Chapter 5

Jack spent what was left of the night in his living room going over files on the Misiano case. He'd been assisting the state Attorney General's office on a RICO charge against, Sal Misiano, the notorious the mob boss. They'd been at an impasse a couple of months ago and reached out. After some digging it turned out The People had a man, Christopher Romano, in Riker's awaiting trial on extortion charges, that could be of some use to them. Jack had met earlier in the week with Mr. Romano and his attorney to discuss a plea in return for testifying for the AG.

Jack glanced at his watch, "6 o'clock…." He called the Department of Corrections over two hours ago wanting records of Mr. Romano's visitors since Tuesday.

Leaning back on his sofa he rubbed his stubbled jaw. He was tired, exhausted actually. He wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he was bombarded with images he couldn't shake. The night's incident, as Harper put it, had stirred up a lot in him. When he closed his eyes all he could see were flashes: Harper lying, bleeding on the pavement, drifting in and out of consciousness; Alex bound and bloody in the trunk of that car; Claire lifeless and angelic in her coffin; his mother backed into a corner, cowering from his father's next assault. All the while Harper's whimper/moan played endlessly in his ears. No, sleep would not find him, not yet. The only thing he wanted more than sleep was a drink, but that too would elude him for the time being. He needed to keep his head clear. Get to the bottom on this first, then he'd have a good, stiff drink and a nice, long sleep.

A couple of hours and several cups of coffee later there was a knock at Jack's door.

"Jesus, Jack. You look like hell." Mike Cutter walked into the Upper East Side townhouse Jack had inhabited for the last two years.

"Thanks."

Mike surveyed the files strewn about the place. "Have you slept at all?"

"A little."

A lie and Mike knew it. He'd gotten to know Jack pretty well and was beginning to be able to spot a lie when he heard one. Though given his current condition, anyone would have been able to spot that one. Mike pulled a file from his leather briefcase and waved it in the air.

Jack was suddenly energized, "What'd you find?" He eagerly took the file from Cutter's hands and began thumbing through the papers.

"Romano had five visits between Tuesday and Friday. Three were his attorney, one was his girlfriend, and the last one was a guy named Jimmy DiCillo. That's his wrapsheet there. Mostly petty larceny, a couple of solicitation charges, but," Mike reached over and pointed to a spot on the sheet, "there is one instance of aggravated assault and armed robbery. And look at the weapon, Jack."

"A knife."

Mike shrugged, "I don't know, maybe Romano's trying to get back in Misiano's good graces. It's not much, but it's something. The 2-7 is putting together a book. Maybe this guy, the one needing the light, has a record and Harper can pick him out."

"It's a shot," Jack rose from his seat looking at his watch for the hundredth time, "I'm going to take a shower. We'll head over to Harper's in little bit. There's coffee in the kitchen, help yourself to anything."

An hour later Jack and Mike arrived at Harper's door. Flanked on either side were the officers who had escorted her home a few hours earlier. Connie answered looking a little worse for wear, but not bad considering the night she'd had.

"Is she up?" Jack entered the apartment and looked at his watch, again.

"Yes, she's up," Harper answered as she came in from the kitchen.

Jack looked unexpectedly at her. He didn't think she'd be awake yet. It was 9 a.m. - she couldn't have gotten more than four or five hours of sleep. She was in a light weight robe with pajama bottoms and a tank top underneath. Her hair was piled in a messy bun atop her head and to his surprise she donned a pair of glasses. She looked astonishingly refreshed. In fact, if it weren't for the small cut above her right eye and the nasty bruise on her cheek one might mistake her for a slumber party attendee.

Holding up her large mug she asked, "Coffee?"

She smiled, hoping her battered face wouldn't be too much of a shock. She'd been visibly banged up last night, but in the hours since she'd come home a very large bruise had developed on her right cheek, not to mention the ones around her neck had become a much deeper purple. She was, however, taken aback by Jack's appearance. He looked haggard and weary. She could tell he'd cleaned up and shaved, but that could only do so much. For the first time since she'd known him she thought he looked his age.

"No, I've had enough. You should still be sleeping."

"Mike? There's plenty." She ignored Jack's comment, but his look was persistent. "What? How am I supposed to sleep with Connie waking me up every two hours?" She looked at Connie with faux annoyance and winked. "But hey," she chuckled, "it could be worse, I could be dead." She mentally winced knowing she'd gone too far.

Connie looked at her in shock. How could she say such a thing after what she had told her about Alex?

"Harper…" Jack's brow furrowed and he rubbed his jaw in fatigue. "Can you for once take this seriously?!" His tone was raised and harsh enough to wipe the smile from Harper's face.

"Jack…," Connie said disparagingly. She knew Harper was in the wrong, but she'd been through a lot and his severity was excessive.

Harper felt like she'd been kicked in the gut. "Mike? Did you want that coffee?"

"Uh.. Yeah, thanks."

"I'll get it," Connie interjected and headed toward the kitchen.

Without saying a word Mike followed her out of the room. The tension in the room was tangible and he wanted no part of it.

"Harper…"

"Don't." She looked up at Jack her face had lost most of its color and her eyes were wounded. "I'm sorry…"

"I shouldn't -"

"But you've got to understand - this is how I deal with things. I know it's not ideal." She tried to make her voice sound as strong as possible, but feared she was failing. "I'm hanging on by a thread here, Jack," her eyes began to fill with tears and the chuckle in her voice trembled, "you've got to give me something." Harper smiled and the tears in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks.

Her plea made Jack's heart ache. He wanted nothing more than to tell her everything was going to be OK, to assure her that he'd take care of everything and that nothing would stop him from keeping her safe.

"I'm sorry." Ultimately, he was a man of few words.

Harper nodded as she wiped her cheeks dry. "Thank you."

"They want you to go down to the 2-7 and look over some perp books. Do you feel up to it?"

He exuded kindness with no hint of insincerity. For that, Harper was grateful. "Of course. I'll go change." Harper took a couple of steps towards her bedroom before turning to Jack with a wicked grin firmly painted on her pretty face. "You guys can come back in now," she called towards the kitchen. She looked at Jack mischievously and rolled her eyes before heading towards her room.

Mike and Jack brought Connie up to speed on the days planned events. While Harper looked over books at the precinct they would do some investigating into Jimmy DiCillo's past and pay Christopher Romano a visit at Riker's. In the course of their planning Harper's phone rang.

"Can you get that?" she shouted from her bedroom.

Mike reached over and picked up the ringing receiver. "Hello? Yeah, may I ask who's calling?" His eyebrows raised in slight surprise, "OK, let me get her."

Harper opened the door to her room and looked expectantly at him as he pulled the phone from his ear.

"It's your mother." he whispered.

She looked at her company, silently mouthing a few choice obscenities. Harper's head suddenly began to pound. This was not a conversation she wanted to have now. She'd hoped they'd get some things squared away before she had to tell her family of her traumatic happenings.

She took a deep breath before beginning, "Hey Mama."

Her co-workers were surprised by the sudden twang in her voice.

"No, that was Mike. He's a friend." She smiled and winked Mike's way. "No, Mama he's not that kind of friend. We work together." She knew they were getting way too much enjoyment out of this and decided to retreat to her room.

A few minutes later Harper emerged from her room phone still affixed to her ear. She walked directly to Jack, a patient smile on her face. "Yes, ma'am. Uh-huh. Hold on a sec, OK?" Pulling the phone down and covering the receiver with her hand she looked up desperately at Jack. "You've got to talk to her," her southern drawl magically gone.

He smiled amusingly, "What?"

"You have to talk to her." She sighed pushing the receiver his way. "Tell her I'm fine. She doesn't believe me. If you don't she's getting on a plane and coming here… today. And believe me, that's something none of us need right now."

Jack hesitantly took the phone from Harper and cleared his throat. "Mrs. VanMeter? This is Jack McCoy. Yes, ma'am. I assure you, Harper's fine. Well - well, yes, y - yes ma'am."

Harper scoffed. Her mother had an disconcerting quality that even Jack McCoy couldn't withstand.

"Armed police officers, yes ma'am. I promise you," Jack paused and looked at Harper, "we won't let anything happen to her."

It's significance was lost on their friends, but Harper's heart swelled knowing Jack really meant I. She hoped her blushing cheeks would also go unnoticed by them. After saying his goodbyes to Harper's mother he handed her the phone and she did the same.

"OK, Mama. Tell Daddy I love him. OK, I'll call y'all tonight, I promise. Bye-Bye." She turned around to find her friends smiling in pleasure. "Shut up."

"That's quite an accent you have there, Counselor."

Connie reached over and lightly slapped Mike's arm. "Leave her alone, Mike," adding condescendingly, "it's cute."

Jack chuckled "OK, that's enough… y'all." The trio stifled their sniggers as best they could.

Harper looked at Jack disparagingly, "Et tu?"