We practically collided with Daniel at the front door to the artists' collective, dressed in his navy police uniform. He jerked back. "What are you doing here?"

"We're in the mood for some art," I said.

Ari cocked an eyebrow. "And you?"

Daniel reddened. "No reason." He stomped off.

My brother watched him leave, a thoughtful look on his face.

"That boy has it bad. Five bucks says he would have told Malik he was just in the neighborhood," I said. ...