Into the Crossfire Read Online Free PDF

damage to his body had been the damage to his spirit. Like
    Sam and like Mike, Harry had come through a brutal childhood intact. Whatever
    had happened in Afghanistan--and so far he wasn't talking--had crushed his spirit.
    So Harry taking the piss out of him was new and good.
    Sam sat up, shuffled papers, wiped the smile off his face. "Wasn't smiling,"
    he muttered. He rarely smiled. No one knew that better than his brother.
    "Was, too."
    Sam looked up into his brother's light brown eyes, as fierce as an eagle's
    and just as warm. "Was not."
    "Was, too."
    "Was not." Sam's jaw clenched at how childish they sounded. "Don't you
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    have work to do? Weren't you supposed to prepare the McIntosh report?"
    "Mmm." A corner of Harry's mouth lifted. "Did that last night, while you
    were having fun along the docks."
    A joking Harry was good, but there were limits. "It wasn't fun," Sam
    snapped.
    Harry's slight smile faded. He knew how heavily this two-week wait had
    weighed on Sam and he knew the reason why. Who knew how many girls were
    being hurt while Sam had to wait? "No," Harry said soberly. "I know it wasn't. I
    was just trying to get a rise out of you, God knows why. You've been walking
    around looking like the Grim Reaper lately."
    "Not anymore," Sam said. "Job's done. I notified the client, who's already
    contacted the authorities. I'll write up the report today. It's over."
    "Christ." Harry straightened. He put his crutches under his arms and
    hobbled into the room. "Wow, that's...that's great news. Did you get the evidence
    to back you up?"
    "Damn straight," Sam said with satisfaction. "Photos and digital recordings
    and even some paperwork. Put those fuckers away for the rest of their natural
    lives. Which I suspect will be cut tragically short by a shank between the ribs in
    the prison showers. Nobody likes child rapists."
    "Hey, man. Congrats. I'll call Mike and we can go celebrate tonight. On me.
    Bonus on that sucker'll keep us in tall corn for the next quarter."
    "Can't." Sam's eyes slid to the computer monitor, staring into it. There was
    nothing there he had to see right now, but it kept his face away from Harry's
    intelligent, perceptive eyes. "Busy tonight."
    "So cancel. The three of us need to celebrate."
    Sam didn't share blood with Harry, or with Mike, but they were his brothers
    in every sense of the term. That didn't mean he'd miss his shot at dinner out with
    Nicole Pearce for Harry or Mike. Tonight was off-limits.
    "Can't," he said, bending his head over a piece of paper, pretending to
    scrutinize it like it was a peace treaty between warring tribes. "Not tonight."
    Harry jerked the paper out from under his hands and held it up. "Okay, I get
    it, you can't talk because you're way too busy with"--he glanced at the
    paper--"orders for paper and photocopy toner. Uh-huh. Okay, what's going on
    tonight that's so special?"
    Sam glared at him. His very special Death Glare, guaranteed to terrify
    recruits.
    Harry put his crutches to one side and carefully sat on the corner of the desk
    and looked at him, eyebrows lifted. Sam crossed his arms and set his jaw.
    "Not talking, eh?" A corner of Harry's mouth lifted, Harry body language
    for a full-out grin. "That means I'll have to guess. Okay. I like guessing games. It's
    obviously not work-related, or you'd have told me all about it, so we're talking a
    date with a dame. And just as obviously that dame's someone you don't want to
    blow off, but if you don't want to talk about it, that means it's..." He snapped his
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    fingers. "I know! That looker across the hall! The one you've been mooning over.
    Christ, how'd you swing that one? Who'd you have to kill?"
    Damn! Sam hated it that Harry was so smart. He hunkered down in his
    chair, knowing he couldn't take Harry on. Harry's bones were just now resetting,
    Sam couldn't go breaking any new ones.
    But, shit, he didn't want to talk about this. He'd never been one to blab
    about his sex life, mostly because there'd never