Sleuth LLC- Bird's of a Feather

Praise for Etienne Bodies of Work ―Etienne has created an intriguing murder mystery that I enjoyed a great deal.‖ —Literary Nymphs ―I fell in love with the characters and their story. It had me hooked and I didn‘t want to put it down.‖ —Night Owl Reviews

The Path to Forever ―The concept of longevity as it is presented here, with all its details and consequences, is fascinating…‖ —Queer Magazine Online ―I for one enjoyed this book and look forward to reading the next…‖ —Fallen Angels

NOVELS BY ETIENNE THE AVONDALE STORIES Bodies of Work Drag and Drop Break and Enter Sleuth LLC: Birds of a Feather THE FOREVER SERIES The Path to Forever Prognosis: Forever

Published by

DREAMSPINNER PRESS

Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author‘s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Sleuth LLC: Birds of a Feather Copyright © 2011 by Etienne Cover Art by Reese Dante http://www.reesedante.com All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ ISBN: 978-1-61372-013-4 Printed in the United States of America First Edition June 2011 eBook edition available eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-014-1

To Quentin, who inspired me to give free rein to my imagination.

To my long-suffering editor, Jim Kennedy, who patiently picks his way through the land mines (otherwise known as commas) that I strew across the pages with complete abandon, carefully removing the ones that aren‘t needed. To my partner of many years, my first and most earnest critic.

MANY people have written to inquire if the places described in the Avondale stories are real, and I‘m happy to say that they are. Avondale is a very real neighborhood in Jacksonville, situated between Roosevelt Boulevard (US 17) and the St. Johns River. It is bounded on the northeast by McDuff Avenue, which separates it from the neighborhood known as Riverside, and on the southwest by Fishweir Creek. After the great fire of 1901 leveled much of downtown Jacksonville, destroying over two thousand buildings and leaving nearly ten thousand people homeless, the Springfield neighborhood immediately north of downtown was developed. Then the city began to move west and south along the St. Johns River, and first Riverside, then Avondale were born. Said to be the first planned community in Florida, Avondale was developed in the 1920s. Cedar Hills, where Quentin resides and has his office, began to be developed in the ‘50s and is a fairly large neighborhood. The strip along Blanding Boulevard from the Cedar River bridge to 103rd Street is commercial, with a few of the older homes still occupied by doctors, insurance agencies, and in Quentin‘s case, private investigators. The restaurants frequented by our guys are very real and pretty much as described in the stories: • The Cool Moose Café & Bistro, a neighborhood favorite located on Park Street near King Street, offers breakfast and lunch. • The Derby House, formerly Gorgi‘s Derby House, has been an institution in the Five Points shopping district of Riverside for many years. • The Pizza Italian, also in Five Points, was opened by a Greek immigrant in 1976, and he has been dishing out good pizza, wonderful lasagna, and the best meatball subs in town ever since. • Richard‘s Sandwich Shop in Five Points has for more than twenty-five years offered the best camel riders* in town. • The Loop Pizza Grill, home of the best grilled chicken sandwich in town and locally referred to simply as The Loop, began in

Jacksonville in the late eighties and has grown to some twenty locations in three states. The Avondale location, situated on Fishweir Creek, is popular for its deck, where one can sit and watch sea birds foraging in the tidal estuary while eating. The places in North Carolina are also real. • Rocky Waters Motel, at the upper end of Maggie Valley, is exactly as described and has played host to five generations of my family. • J. Arthur‘s offers fine dining in a relaxed atmosphere. • Joey‘s Pancake House is a very popular breakfast spot in the valley. • The Grove Park Inn in Asheville is well-known, and its Sunday brunch is not to be missed. A National Gingerbread House Competition is held there every year, and the entries are on display between Thanksgiving and Christmas. *The term camel rider might sound like a pejorative to some in today‘s politically correct society, but in Jacksonville—which has one of the largest Middle Eastern communities on the East Coast—it‘s the name of a sandwich offered at the numerous sandwich shops around town operated by people whose ancestors fled the economic decline and religious persecution of the Ottoman Empire. Predominately Christian, they came from Syria, Lebanon, and other parts of the Middle East and settled in Jacksonville during the early twentieth century and shortly before. All of the sandwich shops offer sandwiches in a pocket of pita bread. The camel rider is a pita pocket stuffed with lettuce, slices of tomato, cheese, and cold cuts with some mustard and a dash of olive oil. The camel rider is a very simple but amazingly satisfying sandwich.

Jacksonville, FL Thursday afternoon

IT WAS early Thursday afternoon. It had been a slow week, and I was bored. So bored, in fact, that I couldn‘t muster much enthusiasm for my two o‘clock appointment. Why? You may well ask. As a licensed private investigator, my job is to do whatever my clients pay me to do, within legal constraints, of course—and my next visitor was going to get me involved in a divorce case. Yeah, I know, divorce work is my bread and butter, but that doesn‘t mean I have to like it. I managed to stifle a yawn when the noise of a buzzer told me that someone had opened the front door of my office. The buzzer was a poor substitute for a receptionist, but it saved me a ton of money. In lieu of a receptionist, I left the door leading from the outer office to my inner office open to keep a watchful ear on the waiting area. ―Come on in and have a seat,‖ I said, just loudly enough for my new client to hear me over the hum of traffic noises coming from the busy street outside. The guy who walked through the door was in his late thirties, sported the scruffy goatee that was the dernier cri in facial decoration amongst rednecks these days, and was dressed in coveralls displaying an elaborately embroidered logo that I couldn‘t immediately identify. ―Bill Hancock,‖ the man said, extending a hand. ―Quentin Quasar,‖ I said, as I shook it. ―Is that really your name?‖ he said. ―I‘ve never heard of anybody named Quasar before.‖ ―It‘s not the surname I was born with, but I always hated my birth surname, which also began with ‗Q‘, so I had it legally changed when I turned eighteen. If you look at the diplomas and certificates on the wall

behind me, the surname ‗Quasar‘ appears on all of them.‖ ―Yeah, I can see that from here.‖ ―So, Mr. Hancock, have a seat and tell me what can I do for you. In your telephone call you mentioned the possibility of an unfaithful wife.‖ He settled down in a side chair and said without preamble, ―I know that bitch is sleeping with somebody else, and I want you to catch her at it, or at least find me enough proof to use in court.‖ ―I can do that,‖ I said. ―What‘s your wife‘s name, and where do you live?‖ ―Her name is Sybil Hancock.‖ ―With an S or a C?‖ ―S-Y-B-I-L,‖ he spelled. ―Got it. And the address?‖ He gave me an address in Starke, the county seat of Bradford County, about forty-five miles to the south and somewhat to the west of where we sat. I groaned inwardly, because Starke is more or less tied with Lake City for the honor of being the most redneck town in northeast Florida. I asked him a number of pertinent questions, and his answers made it sound as though his wife just might be up to something. ―I‘ll need a picture of her.‖ ―Here you go.‖ He handed me a small studio-type portrait of a good-looking brunette and said, ―You don‘t look like a detective.‖ ―Really? What does a detective look like?‖ ―Geez, I dunno. Different, I guess.‖ ―Mr. Hancock, successful private investigators can‘t afford to look different.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―One of my best assets is the fact that I‘m sort of average in appearance—average height, average build, average looks. That gives me an advantage when I‘m following someone, because I don‘t stand out in a crowd, so to speak. Trust me when I tell you that a good investigator needs to blend in with any group of people.‖

―Yeah, I guess that makes sense. How much do you charge?‖ ―For divorce cases, I charge a daily rate plus expenses, and I require a retainer up front.‖ ―How much per day?‖ I told him, and he said, ―What kind of expenses?‖ ―My out-of-pocket expenses. For example, a mileage charge if I have to either go out of town or follow someone out of town, motel charges if I have to stay overnight, not to mention the costs of any bribes I might have to lay out.‖ ―What kind of bribes?‖ ―If I follow an adulterous couple to a motel, I can often gain the temporary use of a passkey by greasing the palm of whoever is behind the registration desk.‖ ―Okay, I get that. And the retainer?‖ ―The amount depends upon how many days you want me to devote to the case—generally speaking, three or four days paid in advance.‖ ―I can do that.‖ He pulled out a wad of money, carefully counted out twelve onehundred-dollar bills, placed them on the desk in front of me, and said, ―I‘d like a receipt.‖ ―Absolutely.‖ He glanced at his watch as I handed him the receipt. ―I‘ve gotta get to work,‖ he said. ―I‘m working the three-to-eleven shift out at the brewery.‖ So the logo was Anheuser-Busch, then. Now that I knew that, I could read and understand the somewhat flowery initials ―A.B.‖ on his coveralls. I decided to lower my mental barriers for a moment and tune in on my new client, a decision I immediately regretted as I was overwhelmed by a wave of angry emotions…. “If that fucking cunt is screwing that fucking Jack Nelson, I‟ll fucking kill both of them….” There was more in that vein, but I slammed my barriers shut in disgust. Take it from me, now that you know one of my dirty little

secrets—most people have minds like cesspools. If anybody ever says to you that they wish they knew what someone else was thinking, trust me when I tell you that their wish is so far beyond stupid that it‘s off the charts—after all, who wants to go swimming in a cesspool? I‘ve been afflicted with the curse of telepathy all of my life, and it isn‘t a lot of fun. In fact, it very nearly drove me crazy for the first decade of my life, and it wasn‘t until puberty set in that I finally figured out how to build a sort of barricade to shield myself from the thoughts of others. I‘ve never told my secret to a living soul, although my Great-Aunt Ida guessed that there was something ―different‖ about me. She was always the black sheep of the family because she claimed to be psychic and did indeed have occasional flashes of intuition about things—including bits of information that couldn‘t be explained in a rational manner. Aunt Ida had taken me aside when I was very young and explained to me that she knew that I was somehow different and that I would be better served if I never revealed that fact to a living soul. ―Look at me,‖ she had said. ―Everybody in the family thinks I‘m crazy, and all because I made a few claims about being psychic. Take it from me, Quentin, being openly different is not a good thing.‖ It was good advice, and some innate instinct of self-preservation enabled me to heed it. Which was why I kept my mouth shut, even as a child, and that‘s a good thing, as I‘d probably have been locked up in a loony bin by now had I told anybody. I was so distracted by this train of thought that I missed something my client was saying. ―Sorry,‖ I said, ―could you repeat that?‖ ―I was asking when you could start on the job?‖ ―I‘ll drive down to Starke this evening and have dinner at the restaurant where your wife works. Can you recommend an inexpensive motel?‖ ―The Starlight Motel is supposed to be cheap but clean—it‘s right there on 301.‖ ―All right, then. I‘ll have a full report ready for you in a couple of days. Meanwhile, I have your cell phone number if something urgent turns up.‖ ―Okay. I guess I‘d better get to work then.‖

We shook hands and I walked him to the door, after which I put the ―Closed‖ sign in the front door, turned out the lights, and left by the back door after setting the alarm and securing the lock. I walked across the small backyard to the privacy fence, opened the gate, and entered the backyard of my house. My office is in a former residence situated on Blanding Boulevard in the Cedar Hills section of Jacksonville, and I live in a house located on the opposite side of the block facing a street running parallel to Blanding. I had lavished a great deal of time, effort, and money on remodeling the house. The first thing I did was to enclose the double carport and turn it into an actual two-car garage. I also added a master suite upstairs over the garage, moved into it, and gutted the rest of the house right down to and including all of the non-load-bearing interior studs. Then I rebuilt the interior of the house, changing the room sizes and layout to suit myself. It had taken me almost five years to finish the job, and what had once been a small fifties tract house was now an extremely comfortable home. Fresh from the shower, I pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a muscle tee and stepped into a pair of deck shoes. It wasn‘t necessary to pack, as I kept an overnight bag ready at all times, and, with that in hand, I grabbed the case holding my laptop and cameras, retrieved my gun and shoulder holster, and went downstairs to the garage. My one indulgence in life is a ten-year-old pony car—its outward appearance is as plain and nondescript as myself, but under the hood is another matter. The Ford Interceptor engine and drive train were virtually new, very powerful, and immaculately maintained. In a pinch, I could get away from anything in one hell of a hurry if necessary. I made a side trip to the bank to deposit most of those wonderful hundred-dollar bills before I headed over to Normandy Boulevard and followed it to where it intersected US-301 in the tiny hamlet of Maxville. US-301 had once upon a time been a major north-south artery bringing tourists to sunny Florida, but all of that changed with the coming of the interstate highway system. Many of the mom-andpop motels that had once lined the highway had succumbed from the lack of business, but the highway still carried a good flow of traffic, due mostly to the fact that tourists and truckers exited I-95 in

Jacksonville, followed I-10 roughly fifteen miles west to Baldwin, and then picked up US-301, which took them to a connection with I-75 just north of Ocala. It took me almost an hour to make the forty-five mile trip from Jacksonville to Starke, and I observed the speed limit religiously when I got to Lawtey, one of two notorious speed traps on that route. The Florida Department of Transportation recognized the problem and posted signs with yellow flags warning unwary travelers that speed limits were strictly enforced. Someone, I don‘t know who, had even paid for billboards a few miles north and south of the little town, warning motorists of the speed trap ahead.

Starke, FL Thursday afternoon—late

IT WAS a little after four when I checked into the Starlight Motel, left my bag and other equipment in my room, and got back in the car to cruise around the town a bit. Armed with a MapQuest printout, I located my client‘s home on a side street. An elaborate swing set in the backyard confirmed the presence of children—he had told me that their ages were one, seven, and ten, and that the children‘s paternal grandmother looked after them while he and his wife were at work. Then I retraced my steps to US-301, pulled into the parking lot of Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q Restaurant, and went inside. Sybil Hancock was on duty until closing time, and I wanted to get a look at her—if I could do so without being noticed. The hostess determined that I was alone, pulled a menu from a stack, and instructed me to follow her, but when I spotted my quarry working in the section to which I was being led, I expressed an urgent wish to sit in a booth in the adjacent section, and the hostess obligingly led me there instead. I settled down in my seat, pretended to study the menu, and immediately got lucky. Just a few feet on the other side of the low partition from where I sat, my quarry was talking to the customers sitting in a booth. I lowered my shields a bit and focused on Sybil‘s thoughts, which were only peripherally devoted to her customers and were in sharp contrast to her table-side manner.

“I just can‟t wait until tomorrow night.” … ―No, Sir, take your time.‖ … “I wish these idiots would make up their minds and order. Bill‟s working the graveyard shift, and Jack‟s gonna get us a room at the Dixie Motel.” … ―No, Ma‘am, we don‘t.‖ … “Do you see corn on the list of side dishes, you stupid old twat? It‟s perfect… my bitch of a mother-in-law is keeping the kids at her house for the whole weekend—” My concentration on Sybil‘s thoughts was interrupted by a much more powerful thought being broadcast nearby. “Geez, look at the bulge in this guy‟s pants. I wonder how big that thing is and what it would feel like inside me….” Startled, I looked up to my immediate right and into the baby-blue eyes of my waiter. His eyes didn‘t meet mine, however, as they seemed to be aimed directly at my crotch. He was of medium height, kind of skinny, and had a face full of freckles that made him look younger than he probably was, and his head was topped by an unruly thatch of red hair. In sum, kind of cute, but not really my type. Okay, so now you know my other little secret—I‘m gay. And, take it from me, being gay and telepathic isn‘t a lot of fun. How would you like to be in the middle of having sex and be able to hear your partner of the moment thinking things like, “Geez, I wish it was bigger,” or, “Is he ever gonna cum?” or…. Trust me when I tell you that I usually, but not always, keep my shields firmly closed when I‘m doing ―it.‖ He must have seen the movement of my head out of the corner of one eye, because he said, ―Hi, I‘m Jethro, and I‘m going to be your server.‖ ―Hi, Jethro,‖ I said. ―Can I get you something to drink?‖ ―Iced tea, please.‖ ―Sweet or unsweet?‖ ―Unsweet, please.‖ ―I‘ll be right back.‖ He hurried away to get my iced tea, and I sat back, watching his retreating and very enticing bubble-butt. I was thinking, Okay, you

know where your quarry‟s going to be tomorrow night, you haven‟t gotten yourself laid in a while, so why not flirt a little with good old Jethro and see what happens? The kid has an ass just made for fucking. Having made my decision, I launched into flirtation mode every time Jethro returned to my table, and by the time he brought my check, I knew that he was nineteen, attended the local community college, and lived with his grandparents, who, and this was a vital piece of information, allowed him to pretty much come and go as he pleased. As he started to lay my check on the table, I grabbed his hand and held it for a minute. ―Jethro,‖ I said in a low voice, ―what time do you get off work?‖ Following my cue, he sort of whispered, ―Nine.‖ ―I‘m staying at the Starlight Motel. Wanta come over and watch a movie or something? ―You bet. Which room?‖ I gave him my room number, and he moved to another table to wait on a customer, so I took the check up to the cashier and paid it, adding a generous tip to the credit card charge. After I left the restaurant, I drove around for a bit, eventually locating the residence of Jack Nelson, which also had a swing set in the backyard. How depressing: two families about to be split because two people simply could not—or would not—keep their pants zipped. Back in my room, I changed into shorts and a more comfortable T-shirt, opened the bottle of wine I‘d brought with me, and settled down for a boring evening of television. A little after nine, there was a knock on my door, and I let Jethro into the room, carefully locking and chaining the door behind him. ―Hi, Jethro,‖ I said. ―I wasn‘t sure you would come, but I‘m glad you did.‖ He grabbed me and kissed me for a long minute. Then he said, ―I spent the last thirty minutes of my shift helping out in the kitchen, so I‘m hot and sweaty. Do you mind if I take a shower?‖ ―Not if I can join you.‖ His clothes were off and tossed on a chair faster than I would have thought possible. Then he stood naked in the open bathroom door,

watching as I undressed, carefully folded my clothes, and placed them neatly on the chest of drawers. ―I knew you‘d have a big one,‖ he said when I was naked. ―Yeah, but I‘m a shower, not much of a grower, so it doesn‘t get a whole lot bigger.‖ ―It looks mighty fine from here.‖ ―You‘re no slouch yourself, kiddo. Let‘s see if we can fit into that shower together.‖ By the time we emerged from the shower and began toweling ourselves dry, we had thoroughly explored each other‘s bodies, and needless to say, we were both sporting the hardest of wood. When he was dry, Jethro went straight to the bed, lay back on it, legs apart, and said, ―I want that thing inside me now.‖ I stood beside the bed long enough to retrieve a condom from the nightstand, open it, and roll it into place. Knowing that he was already lubricated with soap and well stretched from our foreplay in the shower (I had inserted more than one soapy finger into his willing ass), I knelt between his legs, hoisted his feet to my shoulders, and slowly entered him. ―Oh, my God,‖ he said, sighing. ―You don‘t know how good that feels.‖ Actually, I do, I thought, as I tuned into what he was thinking and, more importantly, what he was feeling. I never get over the sensation of having sex with someone while simultaneously sharing what they‘re feeling—provided they aren‘t complaining about my performance, in which case I shut them out. With Jethro it was especially enjoyable, given that his mind was as uncomplicated as it was uncluttered. He was totally focused on three things: getting an education, earning the money to pay for it (his grandparents provided only room and board), and getting laid. There was no background clutter of distractions in his thoughts at all. While I was pounding his ass, I bent down, took his erection into my mouth, and used the feedback I was getting from his brain to hold him on the edge until he quite literally couldn‘t stand it any longer— and then I finished him off. When he was spent, I focused on my own needs, came, and collapsed on top of him after I lowered his legs to the

bed. We kissed for a long time. ―You‘re a really good kisser,‖ I said a few minutes later. ―You‘re really good at everything. You kept me on the brink forever—how in the world did you do that?‖ ―Years and years of practice.‖ ―You‘re not that old… are you?‖ ―Not really, but when I‘m in bed with someone your age, I sometimes feel it.‖ ―Can we do it again?‖ ―As soon as my batteries are recharged.‖ I felt a hand slip between our bodies and begin to grope and explore. I pulled back from him just enough that I could begin to kiss my way down his torso, starting with his nipples and working my way downward. ―Someone‘s batteries are already recharged,‖ I said after a moment. ―I‘m always ready.‖ That‟s because you‟re only nineteen. Enjoy it while you can. ―Would you like to fuck me instead? I believe in reciprocity.‖ ―No—I get to fuck my friend Donny all the time. In fact, that‘s all he ever wants to do.‖ ―Then your friend Donny would be known in gay circles as a bottom, right?‖ ―Yeah, I guess so.‖ ―I don‘t particularly like those kinds of labels,‖ I said. ―And a little diversity in bed never hurt anyone.‖ He leaned up on his elbows and looked at me. ―Looks like you‘re ready to go again.‖ ―So I am.‖ I fumbled in the nightstand again and prepared my erection for duty. This time it took us quite a bit longer to finish, and by the time we did, we were both sweating like pigs. We lay side by side for a while afterward, talking, cuddling, and kissing. ―Do you mind if I take another shower?‖ he said.

―I‘ll join you.‖ ―Cool. Then I need to get dressed and go home. I‘ve got an early class in the morning.‖ We took a quick shower, after which I lay back on the bed and watched him get dressed. Then I followed him to the door and kissed him before he opened it. ―I‘m glad your room is on the back side of the motel,‖ he said. ―I guess you have to be really careful, living in such a redneck town.‖ ―You have no idea. Can I see you tomorrow night?‖ ―Only if you want to drive to Jacksonville. I‘ll be completing my business in Starke and checking out tomorrow afternoon.‖ Actually, I planned to haul ass out of town just as soon as I took some incriminating photographs, but I wasn‘t about to tell him that. ―Donny and I are going to Jacksonville Saturday afternoon.‖ ―To do what?‖ ―The plan was to go to the mall and then to the movies.‖ ―Which mall?‖ ―Orange Park.‖ ―My office is on Blanding Boulevard in Cedar Hills, and my house is directly behind it facing a back street—it‘s just a few miles north of the mall.‖ ―I know where Cedar Hills is.‖ I handed him my business card and said, ―Give me a call when you get to the mall—I don‘t have anything scheduled for Saturday. On the other hand, I do get calls for rush jobs from time to time.‖ ―What‘ll I do with Donny?‖ ―Bring him with you, of course. I‘ve got a king-size bed.‖ ―Cool. We‘ve never done a threesome.‖ I kissed him one last time and stood behind the door as he left the room—no need for a passerby to see a naked man showing a teenage boy out of a motel room late at night, even if the boy in question was of legal age. I secured the door, poured myself a glass of wine, allowed the alcohol to help me come down off of my sexual high, and crawled

into bed. As I always did when I was in a smaller town, I lay back on the pillow, lowered my shields, cast a tendril of thought in all directions, and found nothing. The background noise of thoughts—think radio static magnified almost beyond endurance—in a city is too much for me, so I couldn‘t attempt to do this at home—I‘d tried, but it just doesn‘t work. In a small town, with most of the population sleeping, it wasn‘t a problem. Somehow, in the back of my mind, there was always a lingering hope that I would one day encounter someone else with my gift (curse?)—with wonderful results. I finally succumbed to sleep wondering yet again why I bothered. I slept late the next morning, but I managed to pull myself together by nine. Then I called my client on his cell phone and asked him if he was free to talk. ―Yeah,‖ he said, ―my wife took the kids over to my mom‘s because they‘re gonna be there all weekend, and because she had a hair appointment. Do you have some news?‖ ―Maybe, but I don‘t want to talk about it over a cell phone. What time do you leave for work today?‖ ―Normally when I‘m gonna work the graveyard shift I don‘t leave the house until about nine thirty in the evening, but today‘s different— I‘m working a double shift for the extra money, so I‘m out of here right after lunch.‖ ―Would your wife run into us if we met at McDonald‘s before you go to work?‖ ―Shit, no. She don‘t much like fast food.‖ ―Why don‘t you meet me there a little before twelve? When you hear what I have to tell you, you might want to run an errand before you go to work.‖ ―What kind of errand?‖ ―Not on the cell phone. McDonald‘s before twelve, okay?‖ ―Sure.‖

Starke, FL Friday

I

WENT to a little café for breakfast; then I killed a couple of hours

exploring the town some more. There was a former county courthouse building that dated to the turn of the previous century and was now occupied by the community college—the new courthouse was on US301, a mile north of the old one. In addition to a short main street that was obviously struggling to survive, there was a really quaint old brick street that ran north from downtown parallel to the railroad. It was lined with mostly old, mainly multi-story houses, so I figured it must be where the power base of this town had once, and might still, live. I arrived at the Golden Arches at a quarter to twelve and found my client already sitting at a corner table in the most out of the way corner of the busy restaurant. I set the tray holding my chicken Caesar salad and iced tea on the table across from him. ―Okay,‖ he said, ―I‘m here.‖ ―Good, because I have news. Just remember one thing though— you absolutely must not go off half-cocked with this, okay?‖ ―Why would I do that?‖ ―If and when I provide you with proof that your wife is having an affair, you might be tempted to get physical with someone.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―And, however satisfying that might be, you won‘t do your children any good if you‘re in jail for beating someone up.‖ ―I know.‖ ―I hope you do, because right now you have the moral high ground. On the other hand, if you do something stupid, that high ground can and will turn into instant quicksand under your feet.‖

―I read you, loud and clear.‖ ―All right, then. I think by this time tomorrow I‘ll have evidence that you can take to court.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yeah. What I need to ask you is this: do you and your wife have joint bank accounts?‖ ―Yeah, checking and savings.‖ ―If you‘re smart, you‘ll stop by the bank on your way to work and move the savings account balance to an account that‘s in your name only.‖ ―Why would I do that?‖ ―If I get the goods on her, she‘ll know it, and she might haul ass. When a spouse decides to leave in a hurry, they frequently raid the bank accounts, so you need to protect your assets.‖ ―Shit… I hadn‘t thought that far ahead.‖ ―Then it‘s time you did. I wouldn‘t mess with the checking account—she‘s liable to make a purchase using a debit card or something—but people don‘t pay that much attention to savings accounts unless they‘re saving for something and the goal is getting close.‖ ―Thanks,‖ he said, ―I‘ll do that. When will you have some information for me?‖ ―You get off at seven in the morning?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Call me when you do. I might want you to stop by my office and pick up some evidence.‖ ―Evidence?‖ ―Digital photos, maybe. Depends on how things go tonight.‖ ―Shit. You know something, don‘t you?‖ ―Nothing I can take to court at this point, but yes, I know something.‖ ―Can you tell me?‖ ―Tomorrow morning, okay? Go to the bank and take care of business, then go work your double shift. You‘re paying me to handle

this, so let me handle it, okay? And remember to keep your cool.‖ ―Okay.‖ ―And this is most important: stay calm and don‘t give your suspicions away to anybody. Be careful what you say at the bank—you don‘t have to explain your actions to them.‖ ―Yeah, and that son of a bitch at the bank knows everybody in town.‖ ―Any chance he might call your wife?‖ ―He doesn‘t like her, so I don‘t think so.‖ ―Good, because I won‘t be able to catch her doing anything if somebody spooks her.‖ ―Yeah.‖ He left to go to the bank, and I finished my lunch. Then I went back to the motel and took a nap. I‟ve got the rest of the day to kill, I thought. Might as well get some rest.

Starke, FL Friday evening—late

A LITTLE after nine, I checked out of the Starlight Motel, drove down the street to the Dixie Motel, and parked on a side street. I spotted a car nearby that belonged to the hapless Sybil—my client had described it in some detail, including the tag number. I walked the short distance to the motel and entered the office, where a middle-aged man was watching television behind the front desk. ―Help you?‖ he said, when he finally registered my presence. ―Do you have a Jack Nelson staying here?‖ I said. ―Who wants to know?‖ I handed him my card and said, ―I do. Is he registered under his name?‖ ―I can‘t give out that kind of information.‖ I carefully placed a twenty on the desk. ―There just might be someone by that name in room twenty-

seven, around back. Why do you want to know, Mr. Investigator?‖ ―Because he‘s shacked up with a woman who‘s married to somebody else.‖ ―I can‘t help you there.‖ ―You could let me borrow a passkey for a few minutes.‖ I placed two more twenties on the desk. ―I guess I could do that, but what happens if the chain is on the door?‖ I placed a fifty beside the twenties. ―Mister, for fifty bucks, you can break the door down for all I care. I‘ll fix it and still be money ahead. Can I watch?‖ ―Sure you can, as long as you don‘t get in the way. A witness is always good to have.‖ He retrieved a passkey from under the desk and said, ―Follow me.‖ He placed a sign saying ―Back in ten minutes‖ on the office door and locked it behind us. Signs like that always crack me up, because they seldom say when the ten minutes began, thus rendering them meaningless. He led me to a breezeway that took us to the rear of the motel. It was a slow night; there was one lone car in the rear parking lot, and it was parked right in front of room twenty-seven. We walked to the door of the room and stood for a minute. I reached out with my special senses long enough to determine that Jack and Sybil were lustily rutting away in the room. ―How do you wanta do this?‖ the man said. I took a small digital camera out of my pants pocket, turned it on, and held a finger to my lips. Then I whispered, ―Just unlock the door and step quickly to one side.‖ He did as instructed, and the minute the door hit the chain, I gave it a good kick. The chain pulled out of the doorframe, and the door slammed back against the wall. I stepped into the room, found the light switch, flipped it on, and was able to snap half a dozen pictures before the couple on the bed managed to untangle themselves from one another and the sheets. Luckily for me, they stood facing the door for a full minute before reacting any further, and I got several full-frontal

shots of them. The yelling and screaming began in earnest then, but by the time they were dressed enough to give chase, I was back in my car driving slowly down the side street. Another day, another dollar, I thought. Instead of driving back up US-301, I took SR-16, which carried me east to Camp Blanding, a military reservation that was the headquarters of the Florida National Guard and the site of their summer training sessions. I had often wondered what those ―summer-vacation soldiers‖ did, cooped up in a barracks for two weeks without access to their women. One of these days, I‟m gonna get curious enough to drive down there one evening, park on the side of the road, and do a little mental sleuthing to find out. From SR-16, I followed Blanding Boulevard all the way home. I pulled into my garage, locked the car, and carried my bag into the house. Then I went to my office, where I spent thirty minutes dumping the pictures into my computer and printing them out. Because of the nature of my work, I had invested in a decent-quality photo printer. Job completed, I went home, set the alarm for six thirty, and crawled in bed.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning—early

WHEN my client called at seven fifteen, I was already at my desk writing a report for him. ―You told me to call,‖ he said. ―Yes, Sir, and if you aren‘t too tired to stop by on your way home, I‘ve got everything you need.‖ ―I‘ll be there shortly.‖ He was as good as his word and rang my doorbell less than thirty minutes later. I unlocked the front door and said, ―Come on in.‖ I led him back to my desk and offered him a seat. He sat, looked at me expectantly, and said, ―Well?‖

I handed him a dozen color photos and sat quietly while he digested their contents. ―Son of a bitch,‖ he said. ―Son of a fucking bitch.‖ ―Did you go to the bank yesterday?‖ ―You bet I did. I moved the savings money into an account in my name only. Then I withdrew all but three hundred dollars from the checking account. I also did something else.‖ ―What was that?‖ ―I called my mother and asked her to go visit her sister for the weekend and take the kids with her.‖ ―Where does her sister live?‖ ―When she and her husband retired, they bought a house on a lake down near the Ocala National Forest. As far as I know, Sybil doesn‘t know where it is.‖ ―Mr. Hancock, I have a couple of suggestions for you.‖ ―What?‖ ―First, take a close look at the photos. I actually caught them in the middle of having sex, and as you can see, the guy in the photo is still tumescent, and he isn‘t wearing a condom.‖ ―So?‖ ―Maybe you ought to go by the health department and have some blood drawn just in case. Tell them it‘s for STDs and it won‘t cost you anything.‖ ―Yeah. What else?‖ ―Your youngest child is less than a year old, right?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Was she a surprise?‖ ―Yeah, you can say that again. Sybil was supposed to be on the pill.‖ ―Are you absolutely certain that you‘re her father?‖ ―Oh, shit! I never even thought of that.‖ ―If the affair has been going on for a long time, it‘s possible that she isn‘t yours. Be sure you ask your lawyer to demand a DNA test to

prove paternity—if she isn‘t yours, then you hold all the cards, plus a couple of jokers.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―You still have that moral high ground I mentioned yesterday, provided you don‘t do anything stupid—remember our conversation in McDonald‘s. You need to get these pictures and my report into the hands of your lawyer, and do exactly what he tells you to do.‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense.‖ ―Do you know a lawyer?‖ ―Yeah. We were friends all through high school. After that, he went off to college and I went to work. He moved back home a few years ago and set up his office in downtown Starke.‖ I handed him a sheet of paper and a check, and he said, ―What‘s this?‖ ―My report, along with an itemized bill for two days‘ services plus expenses, and a refund check for the balance of the retainer.‖ He scanned the report; then he glanced at the check and tore it in half. ―Keep the refund; you‘ve damn well earned it.‖ ―Thanks. If your lawyer will send me an e-mail, I‘ll send him digital images of the photos.‖ We were both yawning, and he said, ―I need go to home and get to bed. I feel every one of those sixteen hours that I worked.‖ ―I understand. I had kind of a late night myself, and I‘m gonna go home and take a nap after a bit.‖ He thanked me again, and I walked to the door with him. When his car was out of sight, I hung the ―Closed‖ sign in the door, locked it securely, set the alarm, and went home and to bed for a couple of hours. When I got up, I felt more or less recovered from the late night/early morning. In fact, I was so energized that I gathered up my dirty clothes and took them down to my laundry room and started a load of clothes in the washer. Then I carefully packed my overnight bag so I was once again ready to haul ass on a moment‘s notice. While waiting for the washer to do its job, I went back to the office and settled down at my desk to catch up on my recordkeeping, which carried me through the morning until my clothes were both clean

and dry. All that busy housekeeping-type stuff left me feeling so virtuous that I decided that a nice lunch had been earned, so I drove over to The Loop to indulge myself in the best grilled-chicken sandwich in town. The restaurant has several locations around town, but the nearest one, and my absolute favorite, is located on Fishweir Creek, where St. Johns Avenue intersected with Herschel Street. I took my sandwich and iced tea out onto the deck and sat, watching the sea birds. The tide was out, leaving the little tidal creek nothing more than a series of mud flats and an occasional pool of water, and the birds were busily scavenging for fish that the retreating tide had left trapped in the little pools and eddies. My reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice. ―I told you I recognized that pony car.‖ I looked up and smiled at the speaker. ―Hey, Q,‖ Mike Foster said. ―Mind if we join you?‖ ―Not at all.‖ Mike and his partner, George Martin, set their trays on the table and took their seats. ―Where‘s Robbie?‖ I said. ―He‘s over at Kevin and David‘s house,‖ George said. ―He and Anthony are best buddies, and they sleep over a lot—sometimes with us and other times at their house.‖ Robbie was an orphan whom George and Mike had adopted a year earlier, and Anthony was Kevin‘s nephew, whom he and David had adopted. ―How‘s the detective business?‖ George said. ―Great,‖ I said. ―I just spent a couple of days in Starke on a divorce case. I actually caught my client‘s wife in bed with another guy.‖ ―Really?‖ George said. ―Some money changed hands, and a friendly motel owner opened the door of their room for me.‖ ―Sounds like fun.‖ ―Oh, yeah, surprising people in the middle of sex is always fun.‖ ―What if the guy had a gun?‖ ―He was too busy scrambling for his clothes. Even if he‘d had a gun, I was long gone before he could have used it.‖

―I don‘t suppose killing time in a place like Starke was much fun,‖ George said. ―What in the world would a gay male find to do in Starke, other than working at a boring job?‖ Mike added. ―Well, now that you mention it, there was this nineteen-year-old waiter at Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q with a bubble-butt.‖ ―You didn‘t?‖ Mike said. ―I invited him over to my room after he got off work and had a great time. Two great times, actually.‖ ―Oh, the single life.‖ ―Yeah,‖ George said, ―that sounds like someone I know—back before we became a couple.‖ ―Guilty as charged,‖ Mike said. The conversation switched to other topics, we finished our lunch, and then went our separate ways. I stopped by the Lake Shore Post Office and emptied my post office box. Then I headed back to my office, where I sat down at my desk and went through the mail. I spent an hour catching up on bills and e-mail and completed my weekly computer maintenance. I was truly proud of the fact that I had actually managed to create a more or less paperless office. All of my many documents, files, and images were scanned into the computer and from there were automatically backed up every night to a secure off-site storage facility. The nightly backup consisted only of files that had been added or changed since the last full backup, and I did a full backup every weekend without fail. When I had to go out of town over a weekend, I did the backup as soon as I got home. Secure in the knowledge that the building could burn down that night and no irreplaceable records would be lost, I went back home to take a brief nap. I was awakened some time later by the ringing of my cell phone. ―Hello,‖ I said. ―Hi, Quentin.‖ ―Jethro?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Where are you?‖ ―We‘re at the Orange Park Mall. Can we come by?‖

―Absolutely. Do you need directions?‖ ―Thanks, but I printed them out on MapQuest.‖ ―See you in a few.‖ ―Yeah, bye.‖ When I answered the door twenty minutes later, Jethro and Donny were standing on my small front stoop, so I said, ―Come in, guys.‖ Donny was everything that Jethro was not—stocky instead of skinny; tall rather than average; his face was free of freckles; and his dark hair was as organized as Jethro‘s red hair was unruly. ―Have you guys already been to the movies?‖ I said. ―We decided to come see you instead,‖ Jethro said. ―What if somebody asks about the film?‖ ―Lots of websites have spoilers for any movie you can think of.‖ ―Got it all figured out, don‘t you?‖ I said. ―When you live in a place like Starke, you have to be careful,‖ Donny said. ―No argument there.‖ ―Where‘s your bedroom?‖ Jethro said. ―I‘m ready to try that kingsize bed you talked about.‖ The next two hours were as much fun as they were exhausting— nothing like a pair of horny teenagers to wear you out. At one point, while Jethro used the bathroom, I tuned in on Donny‘s thoughts and almost wished that I hadn‘t. His mind was not nearly as focused on important things as was Jethro‘s, and I learned a couple of things that put me in a moral dilemma. Much later, when I walked to the door with them, I asked Jethro to linger for a moment, and when Donny was out of sight—and earshot—I said, ―Jethro, when you get home and are alone, give me a call.‖ ―Why?‖ ―There‘s something I need to tell you.‖ ―You can‘t tell me now?‖ ―Not with Donny waiting outside—it sort of involves him. Just call me when you‘re home and by yourself, okay?‖

―Sure.‖ He gave me a quick kiss and left. I secured the house; then I took a long hot shower, followed by a short nap, which lasted until the ringing of my cell phone woke me sometime later. ―Quentin?‖ ―You got me.‖ ―This is Jethro.‖ ―I know.‖ ―You‘ve got my curiosity up. What was it you wanted to tell me?‖ ―Are you alone?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―How long have you known Donny?‖ ―Ever since I started going to Santa Fe Community College— about a year and a half ago, why?‖ ―I don‘t know how to say this, Jethro, but Donny isn‘t really your friend.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―Have you told anybody what you and Donny do with each other in your spare time?‖ ―Of course not—other than you, that is. Why?‖ ―Donny has told several people.‖ ―I don‘t believe you. Who?‖ ―Frank, Beth, and Darcy, to name a few.‖ ―How the heck do you know that?‖ ―Jethro, I‘m a detective, and I spent two days in Starke, snooping around, detecting things. People talk, and I listen.‖ ―I don‘t believe it.‖ ―Okay, kiddo, don‘t believe it, but don‘t say I didn‘t warn you.‖ ―Shit. Now you‘ve got me confused.‖ ―Sorry about that, Jethro. Trust me on this, I like you, and I‘m looking out for you by giving you this information. Be careful what

you tell Donny, because he doesn‘t have your best interests at heart.‖ ―Shit.‖ ―That about sums it up… sorry.‖ ―Can I see you again?‖ ―Next time you come to town, as long as I‘m not out on a case. Give me a call.‖ ―Okay, bye.‖ I looked at the clock and realized that I needed to change clothes, because I had a prospective client due in the office in half an hour. I don‘t usually make appointments for Saturdays at all, let alone Saturday evenings, but I‘m never too proud to turn down any prospective business.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday evening

WHEN my visitor arrived, I was at my desk actually wearing a tie, and because it was after hours, I walked to the front door and unlocked it for him. Chauncey Mayberry was forty, short, kind of chubby, and what remained of his hair was worn in a bad comb-over. He introduced himself, handed me a card, and I invited him to have a seat. I looked at the card for a minute and read, West Side Lounge, Chauncey Mayberry, owner. ―So, Mr. Mayberry,‖ I said, ―what can I do for a bar owner?‖ ―Help me catch a thief.‖ ―Tell me about it.‖ ―First, let me ask you something—how much do you know about alcohol sales?‖ ―Very little, actually, but I‘m always willing to acquire new knowledge—you never know when it will come in handy.‖ ―Okay. The thing is, when you‘re selling beer, wine, and stronger alcohol, controlling your cost of goods is vital.‖ ―That certainly makes sense.‖ ―Absolutely, and I have automatic dispensers that measure the shots of hard liquor, as well as timers that control the amount of beer flowing from the taps. Because of the automation, I know within a percentage point or two what our beverage costs should be. For example, I can read the daily totals from the dispensing devices and know how much alcohol was dispensed of each type, that is, beer, wine, or hard liquor. From that, I know what to expect in terms of sales when I look at the totals from the cash register. For that matter, I know

how many empty bottles of wine and hard liquor there should be.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―The problem is this: for the past three months, my liquor costs are running considerably higher than they should be.‖ ―Which means that somebody is skimming from the till, right?‖ ―Yeah, but the amount of cash on hand in the drawer always matches what the daily X readings are for each shift. Do you understand what I mean by X readings?‖ ―Actually, I do. I worked in a restaurant when I was going to college. With most cash registers, you use an X key for a subtotal and a Z key for an end-of-the-day total. When you use the Z key, the numbers in the machine are reset to zero after your reports are printed.‖ ―Exactly, and it‘s been that way for decades. Even though the registers are now actually small computers, the terminology remains the same.‖ ―So, you‘ve got a thief. How many candidates are there for the position?‖ ―What? Oh, you mean how many potential thieves are there?‖ ―Yes, Sir.‖ ―The bottle counts for the day shift are fine—they pretty much match what the reports say, it‘s just the evening shift that has a problem, and we have two bartenders.‖ ―Do they each have their own cash drawer?‖ ―Yes, they do.‖ ―Do you have any busboys in the bar?‖ ―Yeah, one for each shift, why?‖ ―Why don‘t you let me work as a busboy on the evening shift for a few days? Maybe I‘ll spot something.‖ ―With respect, Mr. Quasar, you‘re much too clean-cut and prosperous-looking to pass yourself off as a busboy.‖ I reached into my desk drawer, retrieved an eight-by-ten color photo, and handed it to him. ―If I don‘t shave for a few days, I can look like this.‖ He examined the photograph carefully, looked at my face, then

back at the photograph, and said, ―I can hardly believe this is a picture of you.‖ ―In my line of work, one has to be good at disguises.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―What about your regular busboy? Would he fuss if you gave him a few days off?‖ ―Hardly. He‘s a lazy little son of a bitch—I‘m lucky if he comes to work at all.‖ We discussed the situation for a while; then we haggled a bit over my fee, which included a bonus for success, and he wrote me a nice fat check as a retainer. ―I must say, Mr. Quasar, you‘re a tough negotiator.‖ ―Thanks.‖ Of course, it helps when you have a certain talent and make use of it to learn how far the other party is willing to go. ―When will you begin?‖ he said. ―What are your busiest nights?‖ ―Wednesday through Saturday.‖ ―And what nights are your evening bartenders off duty?‖ ―Sunday and Monday, this week, but the schedule fluctuates.‖ ―I‘ll have enough stubble on my face by Wednesday to begin working as your busboy,‖ I said. ―Meanwhile, I think I‘ll put on a little disguise and go have a couple of drinks at your bar this evening. I want to watch your bartenders at work for a while.‖ ―What kind of disguise?‖ ―Just a fake mustache and a little color in my hair will work wonders.‖ ―All right, then. I‘ll leave it in your hands.‖ As soon as he was gone, I filled out a deposit slip, stuck it and the check in an envelope, and sealed it. Then I closed the office for the night and went home to change into some clothes suitable for Saturday evening barhopping. Opening my little kit of disguises, I selected and applied a full mustache and carefully examined my appearance in the mirror. Oh, yeah, a little salt and pepper effect for the hair would be

good, I thought, so I took care of that detail. When I was behind the wheel of my pony car, I headed for the West Side Lounge, stopping by the bank to drop my envelope in the night deposit slot along the way.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday evening—late

WHEN I walked into the dimly lighted interior of the West Side Lounge, my immediate reaction was, Shit, this place is even more redneck than I thought it would be. I‟ve never seen so many conspicuous tattoos on so many women. However, I girded my loins, metaphorically speaking, and took a seat on a barstool at one end of the bar, where I would have a bird‘s-eye view of the cash register. Over the course of an hour, I carefully pretended to drink two vodka and tonics, all the while surreptitiously depositing most of each sip into my water glass, much of which I had deliberately consumed in preparation for my little bit of deception. By the time I left the bar, I had been hit on by two women and one rather desperate man—What the fuck is a gay man doing cruising in a redneck joint? I wondered—and I knew that both bartenders were skimming, as well as how they were doing it. All that remained was for me to figure out a way to catch them at it, which would: a) take care of my client‘s needs and b) keep my little secret from being discovered. As soon as I got home, I went straight to the shower—current Florida law allowed bars to permit smoking, provided their food sales, if any, didn‘t exceed a certain percentage of total revenue, and the majority of this bar‘s customers were smokers, so I positively reeked of it.

Jacksonville, FL

Sunday—morning

SUNDAY morning, I drove to the Y and swam laps. Then I spent some time in the steam room. Freshly showered and dressed, I drove to the Five Points shopping district and had breakfast at the Derby House, which occupies a point of land where two of the five streets that give Five Points its name came together. There have been restaurants under various names in the building since the 1940s, and the current establishment is a favorite weekend hangout for gays. I settled down at a table with a group of people I knew—some well, some casually—and ate my breakfast while we caught up with each other‘s lives. On the way back to my house, my cell phone rang. Oh shit, I thought when I saw the number in the display. ―Hello,‖ I said. ―Hi, Quentin, this is Jethro.‖ ―I know. I recognized the number. What‘s up?‖ ―You were right about Donny.‖ ―Sorry.‖ ―Don‘t be sorry—I‘m glad I found out. Are you home?‖ ―No, but I will be in ten or fifteen minutes, why?‖ ―I want to come see you.‖ ―Didn‘t you get enough sex yesterday?‖ ―Of course not, but I sort of need a shoulder to cry on, if you know what I mean.‖ ―Like I said, I‘ll be home in ten or fifteen minutes.‖ ―See you in a few, then—I‘m already at the Orange Park Mall.‖ ―Pretty sure of yourself, weren‘t you?‖ ―No, but I had hope.‖ When I got home, I barely had time to brush my teeth before the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Jethro launched himself into my arms with such force that he almost knocked me down. ―Whoa, Jethro,‖ I said. ―Take it easy.‖

―Sorry, I‘m just glad to see you. I‘ve had a rotten day.‖ I locked the door, took him by the hand, led him to the sofa, and said, ―Okay, Jethro, sit down and tell me all about it.‖ It took him a while to get the story out in bits and pieces, and when he was finished, he actually shed a few tears. He‘d actually confronted Donny, and his now former friend had admitted to talking to people. ―I‘m sorry,‖ I said. ―Maybe I shouldn‘t have told you.‖ ―No!‖ he said with considerable vehemence. ―I‘m glad you did, but it isn‘t easy knowing that someone you trusted betrayed you. And in a small town like Starke, it‘s just a matter of time before it becomes common knowledge.‖ ―No, it isn‘t easy at all. Let me ask you something—have you learned anything from the experience?‖ ―Oh, yeah. I‘ve learned to be very careful when it comes to trusting anybody—especially about sexual matters.‖ ―That‘s good. Most people don‘t learn that basic lesson until they‘re a lot older than you are.‖ ―Can we go to bed now?‖ ―Sure, if that‘s what you want.‖ ―Yeah, I want.‖ In bed, Jethro‘s disappointment in his friend morphed into a sort of sexual aggression/dominance, and I was happy to let him take the lead. Later, we lay back on the pillows, drank cans of soda, and talked for a long time. ―I guess it was pretty stupid of me, wasn‘t it?‖ he said. ―Stupid how?‖ ―To think that a gay guy could survive in a place like Starke. I think the fact that my grandma and grandpa were offering free room and board made me overlook the obvious.‖ ―I wouldn‘t call it stupid. Naïve, perhaps, but not stupid. When do you graduate from that community college?‖ ―June.‖

―Well, then, that‘s not too many months off. Then you can go to the University of Florida down in Gainesville and get away from Starke.‖ ―I can‘t afford to live there, and it‘s a long commute from Starke.‖ ―Say what? It can‘t be more than twenty-five miles, and that‘s not much of a commute.‖ ―You think?‖ ―Yeah, I think. In fact, I‘d be willing to bet that you won‘t be the only one driving from Starke to Gainesville on a daily basis—ever hear of car pools?‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe I can find someone to share rides back and forth.‖ ―Feel better now?‖ ―You know I do. Oh, shit! What time is it? I have to work this afternoon.‖ I looked at the bedside clock. ―Eleven thirty. Got time to have lunch?‖ ―Sure. I don‘t have to be at work for three hours.‖ I took him to The Loop, where he really enjoyed sitting out on the deck, eating. ―This is so cool,‖ he said. ―Yeah, it‘s one of my favorite spots.‖ ―Hello, Q,‖ a voice said. ―Is this your son?‖ ―Up yours, Mitch,‖ I said, identifying the owner of the voice, ―and I say that with the deepest respect and affection. I‘ll admit to having been sexually precocious, but I wasn‘t that precocious, not to mention the fact that my friend is quite a bit older than he looks.‖ ―May we join you?‖ ―Certainly. Jethro, this jokester is Mitch Edwards—he‘s an ambulance chaser.‖ ―Is that any way for you to talk about a client?‖ Mitch said. ―My firm has sent quite a bit of business your way.‖ ―Sorry. Jethro, the one who thinks he‘s funny is Mitch Edwards,

respectable attorney-about-town, and the good-looking one is Rion Murphy—he‘s a Realtor. Mitch, Rion, this is my new friend Jethro Granger.‖ The two men set their trays on the table, shook Jethro‘s hand, and sat. ―So, Jethro,‖ Mitch said, ―what do you do?‖ ―I‘m a student at Santa Fe Community College, down in Starke.‖ ―Great. Got a major yet?‖ ―Yes, Sir. I‘m planning to become a registered nurse.‖ ―Good for you,‖ Mitch said. ―How‘d you meet our Quentin?‖ Rion said. ―I waited on him at Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q last week, and he flirted with me.‖ ―Cool,‖ Rion said. ―Were you in the metropolis of Starke on business, Q?‖ ―Divorce case,‖ I said. ―The Hancocks?‖ Jethro said. ―Yeah, how did you know?‖ ―It‘s all over town that Sybil Hancock and Jack Nelson were caught in a motel room together on a Friday night, and it was the night after we met. She works at Sonny‘s and sort of admitted it to some of her co-workers.‖ ―What else do the rumors say?‖ ―Something about pictures of them naked in bed. And there‘s some really juicy gossip that Jack might be the real father of Sybil‘s baby.‖ ―You‘re kidding.‖ ―Nope. Someone went down to the courthouse, read the divorce file, and reported that Sybil‘s husband has demanded a DNA test to prove paternity.‖ ―Don‘t you just love small towns?‖ I said. ―You can‘t even walk out in your backyard and take a leak without the whole town knowing about it.‖ ―How‘d you manage to catch them in bed, Q?‖ Mitch said.

―Money talks,‖ I said. ―What‘s that mean?‖ ―For twenty bucks, the owner of the Dixie Motel gave me a room number; for forty bucks more, he gave me a passkey; and for another fifty bucks, he gave me his blessing to kick the door in. He even asked if he could watch me do it.‖ ―Wow,‖ Jethro said, ―that sounds exciting.‖ ―And dangerous, I should think,‖ Rion said. ―It can be both at times. That‘s why my pony car was parked on a side street nearby. I was out of there before the guy had his pants back on.‖ ―Why do you guys call him Q?‖ Jethro said. ―What else would you call a gay guy whose initials are Q. Q. Q.?‖ Mitch said. ―Yeah.‖ As we ate, I listened to Jethro interacting with a pair of older guys whom he hardly knew. I had to admit that I was impressed—the kid handled himself very well and showed none of the awkwardness that guys his age typically display around their elders. On the way back to my place, Jethro said, ―That was nice. The restaurant was neat, and I really enjoyed talking to your friends.‖ ―Yeah. They‘re good guys.‖ ―They‘re a couple, right?‖ ―Yep, though I can‘t remember for how long.‖ ―Have you ever had a boyfriend?‖ ―Once or twice, but it never works out.‖ ―Why? If I‘m not being too nosy.‖ ―I work crazy hours, and that‘s hard for some people to get used to. For example, if I‘d made plans to go out to a movie or something and I got an urgent call from a client, the client comes first.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yes, really. I may sit around with nothing to do for several days, so I can‘t afford to turn down a job—after all, I have to eat, just like

everybody else.‖ ―That makes sense.‖ ―Tell that to a jealous lover.‖ ―Why would someone be jealous of your job?‖ ―It‘s not the job, kiddo. They wanted exclusive rights to my time, and my time is what I have for sale.‖ ―Yeah. I guess you must get lonely at times.‖ ―Not when I can go out to restaurants and get hit on by cute waiters with bubble-butts.‖ ―I didn‘t hit on you—you flirted with me.‖ ―Perhaps, but you wanted me to, didn‘t you?‖ ―Guilty.‖ We pulled into my garage, and I said, ―We‘ve got just enough time for a quickie, if you like.‖ ―Oh, I like, I like.‖ We went upstairs and had a quickie; then we took a long shower together. As we were dressing, Jethro said, ―Are you free next weekend?‖ ―I doubt it. I have a job starting Wednesday that will tie me up every night until the following week.‖ ―Can you tell me about it?‖ ―Not a lot to tell. I‘m gonna go without shaving for a few days so I‘ll look kind of scruffy, then I‘m going to spend every evening working as a busboy in a bar.‖ ―Really? Why?‖ ―I‘m gonna keep an eye on the cash register and see if I can figure out who‘s stealing, and how.‖ ―Wow.‖ ―It‘s not all that exciting. In fact, it‘ll mostly be boring, and I hate being around all those people smoking—I‘m sure I come home with even my hair smelling of smoke.‖ ―Yeah.‖

I walked to the door with him, kissed him again, and he left. I was really worried that he might be getting too attached to me, if not actually falling in love or something, but a quick scan of his thoughts assured me that he was not—at least not at the moment. Monday morning, I came within an inch of shaving, then remembered my new assignment. Memo to me, from me: Put a Post-it note reminder on the bathroom mirror. I spent most of Monday and Tuesday wrapping up the loose ends of a couple of recent assignments, and by Wednesday, when I presented myself at the West Side Lounge, I was looking quite spectacularly scruffy.

Jacksonville, FL Wednesday evening ―HELP you?‖ the bouncer guarding the inner door said. ―Mr. Mayberry is expecting me.‖ ―See that hallway to the left of the bar?‖ He turned and pointed through the open door. ―Yeah.‖ ―First door down the hall on the right. Go to the top of the stairs and knock.‖ ―Thanks.‖ Following his instructions, I found the door, climbed the stairs, and knocked on the door. ―Just a minute,‖ came a muffled reply. I heard footsteps, and then Mr. Mayberry opened the door and said, ―Can I help you?‖ ―I‘m the new busboy.‖ ―Holy shit. What a transformation. Come on in and have a seat.‖ ―Thanks.‖ I sat as instructed across the cluttered desk from him, and we worked out a game plan. ―I forgot to ask if you‘d ever worked as a busboy?‖ he said. ―I did all kinds of restaurant jobs when I was in college, and I would imagine that bussing tables is pretty much the same everywhere.‖ ―That it is. What shall I call you?‖ ―Sam Goodman will do.‖ ―And if someone checks up on Sam?‖

―They‘ll find a roommate who‘ll vouch for him. I‘ve done this before.‖ ―Did you learn anything the other night when you were here?‖ ―Nothing I can prove. However, I wondered about the lack of security cameras around the bar area.‖ ―Actually, there are two of them.‖ ―Yes, Sir, but they seen to be pointed across the bar, where a potential robber might stand. They aren‘t pointed at the cash register.‖ ―Wouldn‘t that send the wrong signal to the help?‖ ―Perhaps, but there‘s no reason why a couple of tiny little webcams couldn‘t be installed so that they were pointing directly at either side of the cash register.‖ ―Do you know someone who can do that? And can the webcams be hidden?‖ ―Yes, to both questions. The miniature ones are really small and can be hidden in what looks like a tiny crack or hole in the ceiling tiles.‖ ―Got a name?‖ ―I can do better than that. Here‘s a card—I came prepared.‖ ―What do you expect webcams to show us?‖ ―That one or both of your bartenders are engaging in some sort of counting scheme.‖ ―Counting scheme?‖ ―I talked to a couple of friends of mine who are CPAs, one of whom has a good deal of experience in the hospitality industry. A common method of skimming involves setting aside something like a toothpick or a penny every time they put money in the till but don‘t ring it up. At some point, they count the toothpicks or pennies, and they know how much cash to remove from the drawer to make it balance.‖ ―I‘ve been in this business a long time, but I didn‘t know that.‖ ―Before my friend went into private practice, he worked for one of the big national CPA firms—one whose specialty was the hospitality industry. He learned a lot while he was with that firm.‖

―I‘m beginning to be glad I hired you.‖ ―Let‘s not get carried away—even if that‘s what‘s happening, we have to actually catch somebody at it. Then we can celebrate.‖ ―Agreed. Ready to go to work?‖ ―Absolutely.‖

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning

AFTER three nights of mingling with smokers and catching snatches of drunken conversations, I was really glad when the bar closed at two o‘clock on Saturday morning. On the way home, I called Mr. Mayberry. ―Hello,‖ he said. ―Quentin here, Mr. Mayberry.‖ ―Yes?‖ ―If you can stop by my office later today, I‘ll have a report for you.‖ ―What time?‖ ―I need to get some sleep before I tackle the report. Would eleven be too late?‖ ―I‘ll be there.‖ At the house, I went straight to the bathroom and showered—it took two rounds of soaping and rinsing myself before I felt cleansed of residual smoke odors—and I was so tired that one glass of wine put me right to sleep. When the alarm went off at eight, I forced myself to get up and take a cold shower; then I made a quick run down the street to the nearest McDonald‘s and brought some breakfast back to my desk. By the time my client arrived, I had a two-page report ready for him. He settled down in a side chair and looked at me expectantly. ―Well?‖ ―Your two bartenders weren‘t hired at the same time, were they?‖

―No. Ben was hired first, and some time later, when Jeff was hired, Ben trained him.‖ ―Is there any connection between the two of them?‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―Are they related? Did they know each other before coming to work for you?‖ ―I have no idea, why?‖ ―Ben‘s hiring date—was it around the time your cost percentages began to go south?‖ ―Shit. Now that you mention it, I think it was.‖ ―Here‘s the bottom line—you have not one but two rotten apples in your barrel. Ben comes on board and has a good thing going; then he trains Jeff to do things his way. I think a thorough background check might reveal a connection between them—you just don‘t out of the blue show a total stranger how to steal.‖ ―How are they doing it?‖ ―That‘s another coincidence. They‘re using toothpicks to count drinks not rung up. Obviously, as a busboy, I couldn‘t watch both of them every minute, but I‘ve seen both of them take a bathroom break and surreptitiously take cash out of the till when they come back. The last time it happened, I took a bathroom break myself and found a cache of more than thirty toothpicks in the trash bin among the used paper towels.‖ ―God damn. You don‘t know how stupid that makes me feel.‖ ―Save the feelings for later. Right now, we have to come up with a plan to get enough evidence on them so that we can have them arrested.‖ ―Yeah, you‘re right. What do you suggest?‖ ―One thing‘s for sure—you can‘t go off half-cocked pressing charges and then fail to make a case against them. As it happens, Captain George Martin of the Sheriff‘s Office is a very good friend of mine. With your permission, I‘d like to talk to him about your problem—he‘ll know what we need in the way of evidence to have a successful prosecution. I‘m assuming in all of this that you don‘t want

to just fire them and let them get away with it.‖ ―Hell, no. By all means, call your friend.‖ ―If you‘ve got the time, I‘ll call him right now and put him on the speaker so that we can both talk to him.‖ ―Do it.‖ I pushed the necessary buttons and got lucky—George was home. ―Hey, George, Quentin here.‖ ―What‘s up, Q?‖ ―I‘m at my desk with a client, we‘re on the speaker, and we need your advice.‖ ―In what way?‖ ―He owns a bar, and I can pretty much prove that two of his bartenders are robbing him blind. What we don‘t know is what kind of evidence we need to nail them—he wants them put behind bars for as long as possible.‖ The three of us discussed the situation for several minutes until we agreed that we had a workable plan. Then, of course, we had to discuss manpower. ―Quentin,‖ George finally said, ―do you know Carl Johnson?‖ ―Red hair, mid twenties, that Carl?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―I‘ve met him a couple of times when I had breakfast at the Derby House.‖ ―Good. He‘ll be the point man on this, and he‘ll be escorting Lieutenant Sanchez. She‘s pushing forty but still has a nice figure and is half Cuban, half Irish, so they‘ll make a striking couple.‖ ―George, I‘ve only met Carl a couple of times, and he won‘t recognize me. For that matter, you won‘t recognize me with a week‘s growth of beard on my face. On the other hand, there aren‘t that many redheads around, so I‘ll be certain to recognize him—especially in the company of the lady you just described.‖ ―What will be a good time?‖ ―For the past three nights, I‘ve never seen either of the bartenders

take a break before nine, so I‘m guessing that any night we choose to do the sting won‘t be any different, although we‘d probably gather more evidence on a Friday or Saturday evening.‖ ―What‘s the next night the two bartenders are on duty?‖ ―Wednesday,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―Do you mind if we wait until Friday?‖ George said. ―It‘ll give me more time to make the arrangements, and as Quentin said, on a busier night, we‘ll collect more proof.‖ ―I can wait a few more days,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―Good. They‘ll be in the bar at eight thirty Friday evening. Anything else?‖ ―I can‘t think of anything, can you, Mr. Mayberry?‖ ―Not at all,‖ he said. ―I think the two of you have a handle on the situation.‖ ―Okay, then,‖ George said. ―I need to hang up and make a couple of calls.‖ I pushed the end button, and the phone went silent. ―Your Captain Martin seems like a pretty sharp guy,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―You bet. He was the youngest lieutenant they‘ve ever had, and now he‘s the youngest captain. George is considered by nearly everyone to be the fair-haired boy of that office, and from what I‘ve heard, he‘s earned the title.‖ ―He didn‘t sound all that old on the phone.‖ ―He‘s in his early thirties, I think.‖ ―We didn‘t discuss how you‘re going to summon me downstairs.‖ ―No, we didn‘t. Got any ideas?‖ ―Sure. There‘s a hidden button under the shelf the cash register sits on. When you push it, a buzzer rings in my office.‖ ―Great. As soon as the first guy takes a break, I‘ll slip behind the bar and give it a push.‖ ―Yeah. Well, I guess I‘d better go get things ready in the office, if I‘m going to do my part in all of this.‖

―Great, see you at work.‖

Jacksonville, FL Friday evening

WHEN I got to the bar to begin my shift, I was beginning to feel really glad that this gig was almost over. How the hell do guys stand having all this fuzz on their faces? I wondered. It was driving me crazy. By the time Carl came into the bar with a vaguely exotic-looking older woman on his arm, I had spotted both bartenders putting money in the register numerous times without ringing up a sale. I hurried over to where Carl and his companion stood beside a recently vacated table, carrying my Rubbermaid bin with me. ―Good evening, Sir, and lovely lady,‖ I said. ―Allow me to clear this table for you and wipe it down.‖ I threw Carl a quick wink, and I could see that he caught it. When the table had been cleared of glasses and thoroughly wiped, I made a great show of pulling the chair out for the lady, and as I did, I whispered carefully in her ear, ―Tell Carl he needs to visit the restroom right now.‖ She nodded, and I went on to the next dirty table. The minute I saw Carl look around for the Rest Rooms sign and then head that way, I counted to ten, put my tray down on an empty table, and followed him. I walked into the men‘s room and checked the stalls. ―We‘re alone,‖ Carl said. ―Is that really you, Quentin? I‘d never have recognized you with all that fuzz on your face.‖ ―Yeah, it‘s me, and I hate this shit. It itches and it‘s driving me crazy. Anyhow, I guess George briefed you fully?‖ ―He did.‖ We talked for a few minutes, and I showed him where I had found the toothpicks the night before. ―Just watch both bartenders,‖ I said. ―One of them will take a break in the next thirty minutes. At least, that‘s what they did every night I‘ve been here—they sort of take turns.‖

I went back to bussing tables, and Carl walked back to his table a couple of minutes later and took a seat. He and his companion sat talking and pretending to sip their drinks, and twenty-five minutes later, Ben disappeared down the hallway. The minute he appeared back in the room, Carl headed for the restroom. He returned a minute later, nodding his head, so I walked behind the bar, found the button, and pressed it. ―Hold it, Sam,‖ Ben said. ―You‘re not supposed to be behind the bar.‖ ―Wrong,‖ I said. Carl had by then walked up to where I was standing, and we were effectively blocking both Ben and Jeff so that they couldn‘t leave the bar—Lieutenant Sanchez had moved into position behind us as backup. Mr. Mayberry appeared, carrying two cash boxes, and there were two other guys with him. ―Okay, guys,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―We‘re going to take a couple of X readings on your register, then we‘re all going to go upstairs and count the money.‖ ―Why?‖ Ben said. ―Recognize these?‖ Carl said, holding up a handful of toothpicks. ―I don‘t know what the fuck you‘re talking about,‖ Ben said, more than a little defensively. ―Sure you do,‖ I said, ―and your buddy has his own stash in the pocket of his apron, don‘t you, Jeff?‖ The bartenders habitually wore carpenter‘s aprons because the pouches on them were a convenient place to stash tips. Before he could respond, I searched the pockets of his apron and retrieved a wad of toothpicks. ―I ain‘t going nowhere,‖ Ben said. ―Oh, yes, you are,‖ Lieutenant Sanchez said, flashing her badge, ―unless you want me to arrest you right this minute in front of everyone in the bar.‖ Mr. Mayberry inserted a key in the register, pushed a couple of buttons, and a long strip of paper shot out of the machine. He grabbed the paper and removed the key, then he removed both cash drawers, and said, ―Follow me, gentlemen and lady.‖

The two men with him took over the bar, and we went upstairs, where we found a woman waiting for us in the office whom Mr. Mayberry introduced as his wife. The two of them made short work of counting the cash from the two drawers, while Carl counted the toothpicks he had recovered from the bathroom, and I did the same with the ones I retrieved from the pouch of Jeff‘s apron. Lieutenant Sanchez stood barring the door. ―I count fifty toothpicks,‖ Carl said. ―How interesting,‖ Mrs. Mayberry said. ―At an average of five dollars per drink, that‘s two hundred and fifty dollars. Would anyone like to guess how much cash is in this drawer?‖ ―About two hundred and fifty dollars too much,‖ I said. ―Bingo. Two hundred fifty-one dollars and thirty-two cents too much, to be exact.‖ ―Jeff wasn‘t doing quite so well,‖ I said. ―He‘s only got forty toothpicks on him.‖ ―And his drawer has a little over two hundred dollars too much in it,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―Lieutenant Sanchez,‖ I said, ―does that give you enough probable cause to arrest these two?‖ ―You bet it does,‖ she said. ―Sergeant Johnson, give me a hand here.‖ She and Carl expertly cuffed the two bartenders and read them their rights before leading them downstairs to a waiting police car. ―Well,‖ I said, ―I guess I‘d better get back to my station. Lots of dirty tables to clean before we close. I‘ll have a final report for you folks tomorrow.‖ ―I‘ll call you in the morning,‖ Mr. Mayberry said. ―Good, just not too early, if you please.‖ Mr. and Mrs. Mayberry both laughed at that, and I went back downstairs. The rest of the evening was absolutely quiet by comparison, and I was glad when it was over, so I could go home. Before I showered, I spent some time with a razor, and did it ever feel good. Then I set the alarm for nine, crawled into bed, and slept the sleep of the just.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning

I WAS sitting at my desk, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the final draft of my report, when Mr. Mayberry called. ―Quentin,‖ he said, ―do you have time for my wife and me?‖ ―Absolutely. I just finished my report.‖ ―We‘re at the bar. Be there in a few.‖ When the Mayberrys arrived, I ushered them into my inner office. ―You look so different without the beard,‖ Mrs. Mayberry said. ―Yeah, and you don‘t know how glad I was to shave it off last night. The itching was driving me crazy.‖ We discussed the events of the night before and spent some time talking about how the problem could have been prevented. ―Your best bet,‖ I said finally, ―is to hire someone like me to run a thorough background check on anybody you hire—if they‘re going to have access to the till.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Mr. Mayberry said, ―I see that now.‖ ―Told you so,‖ his wife said. ―I know, dear, I know. You were right all along, and I freely admit it.‖ We haggled a bit over what my fee would be for background checks, Mr. Mayberry wrote me a final check, and they left. Not bad for a few days‟ work, I thought as I looked at the check, which included the agreed-upon bonus for a job successfully completed. Not bad at all. I realized that I was getting hungry, so I closed the office and went home. In the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and began to forage. Shit, anything that had been fresh looked old and wilted, and when I looked at the expiration dates on the milk carton and a package of hot dogs, I realized it was time to throw everything out and almost started to do so. Wait a minute, it would be better to tackle that little chore Sunday evening, just before I put the garbage on the curb for the

Monday morning pickup. All at once, I realized that my body was tired and my muscles were stiff and sore. Time for the cure, I thought, so I changed into shorts and a tee and got into the car. Cure first, food later, I thought, but as I drove up Blanding Boulevard toward town, my stomach rumbled, so I zipped through the drive-through lane at Mickey D‘s and got a grilled chicken snack wrap and a small Sprite, knowing that the little snack wrap would tide me over for a few hours.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday—midmorning

ONCE I was across the river, I headed for Hendricks Avenue and the Club. Well, the Club Baths, if you must know, but I wasn‘t looking for sex, not even close. The baths occupied a building that had originally been built to house a spa, and some of the spa features were still available. I found a place in the crowded parking lot, left my deck shoes in the car, and slipped into a pair of flip-flops. Inside the building, I checked in, paid the fee, surrendered my driver‘s license and membership card, and was handed a towel along with a key on a flexible wristband. I went to the locker area, undressed, stowed my clothes and wallet, wrapped the towel around my waist, and slipped the wristband over my hand after securing the locker. Then I walked down a hallway past a series of rooms and opened a glass door. On the other side of that door was a large enclosed space containing a small but adequate swimming pool, a separate steam room, and my immediate objective—a huge Jacuzzi. It was set into the floor, tiled all the way around, and was at least six feet in diameter. I hung my towel on one of a series of hooks on the nearest wall, slipped out of my flip-flops, descended the steps into the Jacuzzi, and settled down on the tiled bench, situating myself so that a jet of water hit me in the small of my back. Gotta get one of these babies for my back porch, I thought for the hundredth time. I slouched down on the bench, rested my head on the tile, and closed my eyes. Eventually I realized that I had been in the Jacuzzi long enough, so I went to the pool and swam a few laps in the cool water. Then I entered the steam room, being careful to stay away from the deepest and darkest recesses of the room, which was where sex was happening a great deal of the time. Then it was back to the pool to cool

off, then back to the Jacuzzi. I spent the better part of two hours alternating between the warmth of the Jacuzzi or the steam room and the coolness of the pool, by which time I was thoroughly relaxed and my muscles were no longer stiff and sore. I didn‘t talk to anyone or interact with anyone—well, except when a guy slid close to me on the bench in the Jacuzzi and placed a tentative hand on my thigh. I looked at the person to whom the hand was attached and shook my head ―no‖ without saying a word. After my last dip in the pool, I used the open showers next to the pool and thoroughly soaped and rinsed the chlorine from my body. While I was toweling myself dry, a young guy—also in the process of drying off—walked purposefully past me. He couldn‘t have been more than twenty-two, give or take a year, was very slim, and as he moved about, I automatically noted that he had an amazing ass. Then he turned to face me, placed a hand on my penis, and squeezed. ―I‘ve got a room, if you‘re interested.‖ Shit, why not? ―Lead on,‖ I said. We wrapped our towels around our waists, and I followed him upstairs to one of the rooms, where he instantly flopped down on the mattress and spread his legs. ―Condoms over there,‖ he said, pointing at the little stand beside the platform that held the mattress. I opened the foil pack, rolled a condom over my rampant member, knelt between his legs, and said, ―Lube?‖ ―No need. Just do it.‖ I raised his feet to my shoulders, aimed my erection at the appropriate spot, and slipped into him with a plop. Geez, how many guys have already screwed this kid today? All I had to do to find out was lower my shields, but I decided that I didn‘t really want to know. Even through the condom I could tell that he was thoroughly greased— and obviously well stretched. That thought instantly depressed me, and I felt so put off by the information that I almost lost my erection. Or course, it was not to be, for the brain in the little head took instant control of my body, and I began to pound his ass mercilessly. At one point, I reached for his semi-hard penis, but he pushed my hand away.

―I don‘t need that. Just keep on fucking me—the harder, the better.‖ I did as instructed. In fact, I sped things up so it would be over quickly, and as soon as I came, I got up off of the mattress. ―Leave the door open a bit, please,‖ he said. I stood for a moment in the doorway, adjusting the width of the opening as directed, until he said it was okay and flopped over onto his stomach with his ass in the air, an invitation to more anonymous sex with the first guy who came along. I went back down to the showers feeling dirty all over, soaped myself thoroughly, and when I felt rinsed and clean, I spent a few minutes in the pool cooling off before I had one final rinse under the shower and went to get dressed. I drove across the Fuller Warren bridge, and when I‘d cleared the intersection of I-95 and I-10, chose the left-hand lane, headed west, and after a couple of turns wound up at The Loop. Rather than my usual grilled chicken sandwich, I selected a soup and salad combo, carried them out onto the deck, and sat down at the most distant—and isolated—table.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday afternoon

THE tide was once again well on its way out, and the tidal estuary that was Fishweir Creek was slowly turning into mud flats. I watched a couple of teenagers who were attempting to make their way up what was left of the creek in a kayak, surmising that they‘d probably been out on the river and had delayed their return until the last possible minute. One of them finally stepped somewhat gingerly out onto the mud flats and began to push the kayak through a very narrow channel while his friend tried to steer it. ―They‘re kind of young for you, aren‘t they?‖ a voice said. ―Yeah, they look like jailbait to me,‖ another voice replied. I looked to my right and saw Mitch and Rion standing by my

table, holding their trays of food. ―You guys following me?‖ ―Hardly that,‖ Rion said. ―We‘ll leave that job to super-sleuths such as yourself.‖ ―Well,‖ I said, ―don‘t just stand there. Have a seat.‖ ―Only if you‘re certain that we‘re not interrupting something,‖ Rion said. ―Interrupting what? Oh, you mean me and my invisible companion?‖ They settled down at my table and organized their food prior to eating. ―You did have a sort of faraway look about you,‖ Mitch said. ―Yeah, I succumbed to temptation earlier and immediately regretted it.‖ ―Temptation?‖ Rion said. ―Yeah. I paid a visit to the Club so I could use the Jacuzzi, and it was great.‖ ―The Club?‖ Mitch parroted. ―The Tubs, if you prefer. I spent about two hours alternating between the Jacuzzi, the pool, and the steam room, and was about as relaxed as I‘ve ever been.‖ ―Hardly a reason for regret,‖ Mitch said. ―Yeah, well, as I was toweling myself dry, a guy invited me to his room. I‘m a sucker for a great ass, and he had one.‖ ―So you got laid,‖ Rion said, ―so what?‖ I told them the rest of the story. ―Sad, isn‘t it?‖ Rion said. ―We all go through a ‗fuck everything that moves‘ phase, but most of us quickly get much more selective after that. That being said, the guy you described falls into an entirely different category.‖ ―I know a seventy-two-year-old guy,‖ Mitch said, ―who is diabetic and can‘t get it up. He spends as much time as possible sucking dicks and/or being screwed—often in places you wouldn‘t dream of doing ‗it‘. I don‘t know which is sadder—being that way when you start out, or near the end of your life.‖ ―I was no psych major,‖ I said, ―but I have to wonder what that kid gets out of being repeatedly, and anonymously, screwed?‖

―That, I can‘t answer,‖ Mitch said, ―but I‘ve no doubt that psych papers have been written on the subject.‖ ―I agree,‖ Rion said. ―Anyhow,‖ I said, ―I‘ve made a decision.‖ ―You‘re not going go to the tubs anymore?‖ Rion said. ―Better than that. I‘m gonna put some sort of privacy screen around my back porch and get my own Jacuzzi. In lieu of a pool, I can always take a cold shower afterward. And if I want steam and/or a pool, there‘s always the Y.‖ ―Works for me,‖ Mitch said. ―Gonna throw a hot tub party when it‘s installed?‖ Rion said. ―You bet I will. I haven‘t checked prices yet, but I‘ll be looking for a hot tub that will hold at least six guys, and my porch is pretty big—even with a grill at one end and a hot tub at the other, I could accommodate eight or ten people easily—although they might have to take turns in the hot tub.‖ ―No problem there,‖ Mitch said. ―You‘re not supposed to stay in those things too long at a time, anyway. May I make a suggestion?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Hook up some sort of outdoor shower so you won‘t have people traipsing in and out of your house to cool down. All you‘d need is a hose and a nozzle of some sort.‖ ―Good idea,‖ I said. ―Three panels of four-by-eight lattice at the back door ought to provide enough privacy. Besides, there‘s a six-foot privacy fence around the backyard already, and the lot my office occupies butts up against the back of it. You‘re a lawyer, Mitch—how much trouble could I get into if somebody stood on a ladder and looked over that fence from a neighbor‘s yard on either side when there were some naked men on my back porch?‖ ―Run some horizontal panels of translucent Lucite around the porch at waist height,‖ Mitch said, ―and I don‘t think you‘ll have a problem. Lucite comes in four-by-eight panels, so it should be fairly easy to take care of. You need to understand, however, that some people are going to complain no matter what you do.‖

―You haven‘t seen my back porch, have you?‖ ―No, I haven‘t.‖ ―There‘s a nice thick hedge all the way around it.‖ ―How high?‖ ―Four feet, more or less.‖ ―There you go, problem solved.‖ ―Yeah.‖ By the time we‘d finished eating, my spirits had been restored and my mood was definitely brighter. When I got home, I walked straight through the house and out onto the back porch. Well, covered deck, actually. It had begun life as an open deck and was only about six inches above grade, but I‘d installed a screen and a roof and turned it into a screened porch. The porch was surrounded on three sides by a nice ligustrum hedge that I kept trimmed to a height of four feet. With a little encouragement, it would quickly grow quite a bit higher. With privacy on my mind from the beginning, I had used the darkest fiberglass screen I could find, so I didn‘t see any real problems. And given that the downstairs bathroom opened off of the hallway that led to the back porch, I decided that an outside shower probably wasn‘t needed. Yeah, I thought, this will hold a hot tub just fine with no modification to the structure—then I considered bare feet encountering splinters on the rough floors, and decided that it would be a good idea to cover the somewhat rough deck boards with smooth—and solid— flooring. I retrieved a yellow pad, a pen, and a tape measure to make some measurements and sketches. Then I put together a list of materials and went over to the nearest Home Depot to get some prices, and since I was on a roll, I also visited two companies that sold and installed hot tubs. Later, I sat down at my kitchen counter and made enough calculations to determine that I could accomplish what I wanted without dipping too deeply into my reserves. With that happy thought in mind, I cleaned out the refrigerator and put the garbage out for collection and, armed with a shopping list, made a run to the nearest Publix. Chores completed, I crawled into bed thinking that my day had

turned out rather well after all. My cell phone rang just as I was about to turn out the lights and call it a night. ―Hi, Jethro,‖ I said after a quick glance at the display. ―Hi. I didn‘t wake you up, did I?‖ ―Not at all, but you would have done just that if you‘d waited much longer. What‘s up?‖ ―Are you doing anything Wednesday morning?‖ ―Not as far as I know, without going to my office and checking my calendar, why?‖ ―Because I have to drive my grandparents to St. Vincent‘s Hospital first thing Wednesday morning. My grandfather has to have some tests done—the doctors say that because of the aftereffects of the sedation, he won‘t be able to drive home, and Grandma doesn‘t like to drive in the city.‖ ―I‘m sorry to hear that, Jethro. What can I do to help?‖ ―You could help me kill a couple of hours.‖ ―Want me to come pick you up at the hospital?‖ ―No need for that. If you‘re gonna be home, I can come there— the hospital isn‘t that far from your house.‖ ―In that case, I‘ll be here waiting for you.‖ ―What about your calendar?‖ ―If you don‘t get a call from me tomorrow or Tuesday, you can safely assume that Wednesday morning is not only open, but that it will stay that way. Okay?‖ ―Okay. I‘m looking forward to it.‖ We ended the call and I turned out the lights. Today certainly ended on a high note, I thought as I drifted off. I devoted most of Monday to wrapping up a couple of small jobs, and I spent most of Tuesday in full research mode checking out reviews of hot tubs, and by the end of the day, I‘d made a purchase decision.

Jacksonville, FL Wednesday morning

JETHRO appeared on my doorstep a little after nine Wednesday morning, and we went straight upstairs to the bedroom, where we did a fairly quick sixty-nine. ―You were kind of in a hurry, weren‘t you, kiddo?‖ I said. ―Yeah. It‘s been a while.‖ ―You need to find a local replacement for Donny.‖ ―I know, but it isn‘t that easy in a place like Starke.‖ ―This is true, but think about it, in just a few short months you‘ll be in Gainesville every day.‖ ―So?‖ ―Jethro, there are something like thirty thousand students at the University of Florida, and another ten or twenty thousand at Santa Fe Community College, or is it Santa Fe College now? I keep forgetting that most of the former community colleges have gone four-year and changed their names. Anyway, if half of the students are male, and ten percent of the males are gay, that‘s a huge pool of talent just waiting for little old Jethro.‖ ―You think?‖ ―I think.‖ ―Ready to do it again?‖ ―Given sufficient inspiration, I don‘t see why not.‖ He rolled over onto his stomach and wiggled his ass at me. ―That ass of yours is pretty inspiring, all right, but on your back will be better.‖ He rolled over obligingly, spread his legs, looked at me, and said, ―What‘cha waiting for, big guy?‖ ―Just getting ready,‖ I said. ―Gotta suit up and all that.‖ ―Have you ever done it without a condom?‖ ―No, and I‘m not about to start—that would be like playing Russian roulette.‖ ―Yeah, I guess you‘re right.‖

―Listen to me, Jethro. When you start school in Gainesville, don‘t let some fool talk you into having unsafe sex, you hear?‖ ―Okay. Do people really do that?‖ ―Yes, they do, and they‘re damn fools for doing so. The only safe sex is no sex at all.‖ ―Not ever?‖ ―Only if you‘re in a committed relationship and you‘ve been tested a couple of times, and only then if you totally trust your partner.‖ ―Why wouldn‘t you trust someone you were partners with?‖ ―I know at least one couple who were in a committed relationship, but one partner played around on the side and brought HIV home with him.‖ ―That‘s terrible.‖ ―Yeah, that‘s why I said what I did. When you meet someone, fall in love, and are ready to make a commitment, be damn sure you know all of the other guy‘s bad habits.‖ ―Kind of scary, isn‘t it?‖ ―Yes, it is. I‘m ready if you are.‖ ―What took you so long?‖ During our conversation, I had been using first one, then two, then three lubed fingers to prepare him for the main event, so I eased gently inside him. His eyes opened wide after a moment, so I stopped. ―Problem?‖ ―No, it just took me a minute. Go for it.‖ I went for it and began to thrust in and out, faster and faster, and as I had done before with Jethro, I bent down and took his erection in my mouth. This time I made no attempt to prolong things, knowing that his cell phone might ring at any moment, and despite the presence of air conditioning, we were both sweating like crazy when we were finished. ―I think you need to take a quick shower,‖ I said. ―Your grandma will wonder how you got so sweaty.‖ ―Yeah. Join me?‖ ―Not this time—one thing might lead to another, and you don‘t

have a lot of time.‖ ―Darn.‖ As luck would have it, his cell phone rang while he was dressing. I didn‘t listen to the conversation, but I did pick up on, ―I‘ll be there in ten minutes.‖ ―Time to take the old folks home, right?‖ ―Yeah, but I think I‘m gonna take them to lunch first.‖ ―There‘s a Sonny‘s on Lane Avenue.‖ ―Fool. I can take them to Sonny‘s anytime. I‘m gonna take them to The Loop. I think they‘ll like it.‖ ―Good idea. I was sort of planning on going there myself. Shall I pretend to be a total stranger if I see you there?‖ ―Why should you? Remember, I met you when I waited on you at Sonny‘s in Starke.‖ I walked to the door with him, and we kissed long and hard before he went to his car. Danger, Will Robinson, I thought as I watched him drive away. The last thing you need is a somewhat needy nineteenyear-old falling for you. On the other hand, I had once again carefully explored his thoughts while we were in bed together and had found not even a hint of infatuation—Jethro was just a typically horny teenager. With that comforting thought, I went back upstairs, took a shower, and dressed in shorts and a polo shirt. I looked at my watch and noted that it was after eleven—Jethro and I had spent nearly two hours making the proverbial beast with two backs. Time flies when you‟re having fun. I checked the messages on my business phone and found none, so I got in the car and headed for Avondale and The Loop. At the restaurant, I carried my tray out onto the deck. It was a perfect day for eating outside, and the light breeze coming in off the river eliminated any possibility of annoying bugs. I immediately spotted Jethro sitting at a table with an old couple near the end of the deck. He was looking in my direction, and when I started to sit at a nearby table, I heard him say, ―Hey, Quentin.‖ I looked in his direction and said, in the most tentative voice I could muster, ―It‘s Jethro, isn‘t it? Jethro from Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q.‖ ―Yeah. Why don‘t you come sit with us?‖

―I wouldn‘t want to intrude.‖ ―Don‘t be silly. I‘ve been telling my grandparents about the detective I waited on. Come and join us.‖ The old folks were looking at me and nodding their heads, so I sat, and Jethro introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, his paternal grandparents. During the initial conversation, his grandmother asked me what had brought me to Starke in the first place, and I told her. This piqued her curiosity, as she had heard the local gossip. ―Did you really catch them in bed at the Dixie Motel?‖ she said. ―Yes, Ma‘am. While Mr. Hancock was working a double shift at the brewery, his wife was having herself a good time. However, because he‘s a client, I shouldn‘t be talking about it, even if it is a matter of public record now.‖ ―I understand,‖ she said. ―You must lead an exciting life?‖ ―It has its moments. I may sit around with nothing to do for two or three days, then I get called on to work.‖ ―What‘s the last thing you did?‖ Jethro said. ―That is, if you can talk about it.‖ ―I spent three or four days letting my beard grow, sort of as a disguise, then I worked as a busboy in a bar.‖ ―Really? Why?‖ ―Because the owner was absolutely certain that one of the bartenders was dipping into the till, and he hired me to go undercover to catch him.‖ ―Did you?‖ Mr. Granger said. ―Oh, yeah. As it turned out, both bartenders on the evening shift were stealing from him, and we caught them red-handed.‖ ―That must have been fun,‖ Jethro said. ―Are you kidding? I don‘t smoke. In fact, I‘m kind of allergic to smoke, and most of the people that came into that bar were heavy smokers. Sometimes when I got home after a shift, I felt like burning my clothes because they smelled so bad.‖ ―Yeah,‖ he said, ―I guess catching bad guys isn‘t as exciting as it looks on television.‖ ―Not even close.‖

And so it went, as we chatted amiably for the rest of the meal. At one point, I decided to lower my shields and probe first Mr. and then Mrs. Granger. Mr. Granger‘s thoughts were totally focused on what might or might not be wrong with him, and was it cancer—nothing else seemed to matter to him at the moment. Mrs. Granger, however, was another story. “I‟m so glad Jethro might be cultivating a friendship with people away from Starke. It‟s such a dead-end place for a young man. This detective seems nice enough. Anybody would be better than that nasty little twerp, Donny. Jethro has never even looked at a girl… I wonder if he‟s gay? He needs an older man to take him by the hand as a mentor. God knows his father can‟t be bothered….” I slammed my shields shut after that. As we were preparing to leave the table, Jethro asked me if I was working on a case at the moment. ―As it happens, no,‖ I said. ―And that‘s good, because I‘m on my way to purchase a hot tub for my back porch, and I‘ve got a bit of carpentry to do before they can install it.‖ ―I‘ve never been in a hot tub,‖ Jethro said. ―Want to try it some time?‖ ―Sure, when?‖ ―As soon as I get it in place, I‘m going to invite some friends over. We‘ll grill some steaks, use the hot tub, and watch a game on television or something.‖ ―What friends?‖ ―Let‘s see,‖ I said. ―If they can all come, there will be a Realtor, an attorney, an accountant, a couple of cops, and a guy who runs a computer business. All of them professional people, and good guys to know.‖ ―No women?‖ Mrs. Granger said. ―Boys‘ afternoon out, don‘t you know?‖ Mr. Granger said. ―Women don‘t go to cookouts to watch ball games.‖ ―Give me a call—I‘d like to come,‖ Jethro said. ―Sure, what‘s your number?‖ He made a show of giving me his number, his grandparents and I

did the ―nice to have met you‖ thing, and we went our separate ways. I went to the dealer I had decided upon, and although I‘d pretty much decided which hot tub I wanted, I let him lead me through a lengthy discussion concerning the relative merits of various hot tubs— then I made a purchase and arranged for delivery and installation. After that I went back to the house, hooked my little utility trailer to the trailer hitch on the pony car, and went to Home Depot to make a few purchases. When I got home, I changed into work clothes, unloaded the trailer, and started working on the porch. The bottom four feet of the porch were totally shielded by the hedge, so I took the four-by-eight panels of lattice that I‘d purchased and installed them horizontally just above the four-foot level. Then I walked to the most distant corners of the backyard and took a look at the porch from various angles. As far as I could tell, the privacy of anyone standing (or sitting) on the porch was complete. It took almost no time to install nice tongue-and-groove flooring and give it a quick coat of paint using porch and deck enamel. Pleased with my accomplishments, I put my tools away and headed upstairs to the shower. I spent most of Thursday and part of Friday morning on a routine and relatively boring assignment. The hot tub was delivered Friday, and by the time I‘d wrapped up my assignment, the installation was complete. As soon as the installers were out of sight, I cleaned up the porch and hauled the remaining debris to the curb. Then, while the water finished warming up to the desired temperature, I grilled a chicken breast and had a quick dinner. After that I went upstairs and showered, and by the time I was back on the porch, the hot tub was ready, so I climbed in and settled back to enjoy the sensation. My plans for a cookout and hot tub inaugural party had to be put on hold, because Sunday afternoon I drove down to Tampa to begin a week-long assignment.

Tampa, FL Sunday afternoon

LATE Sunday afternoon I checked into a motel on the east side of Tampa at the intersection of I-75 and SR-60. At seven that evening, I drove to a mall located on the other side of the interchange, as I‘d arranged to meet my client at a California Pizza Kitchen for dinner. The client was a commercial tire company based in Jacksonville, and I was meeting with their controller, a middle-aged guy named Paul Johns. Paul was in relatively good shape for a man in his forties, and during our conversation, he mentioned that keeping up with three teenage sons and their various activities provided all the exercise he needed. He was in town to conduct a surprise count of the inventory at the Tampa branch of his company, and I was going to casually stop by and say hello to him Monday morning. I would be introduced as a distant cousin of his who lived over in Lakeland, so I could get a close look at the local employees—I was using my Sam Goodman persona, but without the stubble. Paul was planning to return to Jacksonville on Tuesday, and my assignment was to stay in Tampa for the rest of the week doing some serious investigating of the local branch manager and his subordinates. ―This is a great restaurant,‖ I said, as I munched on my pesto chicken pizza. ―Yes, it is, and this particular location is brand new—they spent a year or so remodeling this side of the mall to add several restaurants. As you probably know, we don‘t have a California Pizza Kitchen in Jacksonville, although I believe one may be on the drawing board for the area between St. Johns Bluff Road and Southside Boulevard. They have a couple of locations in Orlando, however.‖

―Really? Where?‖ ―At the Florida Mall and the Millennia Mall, if memory serves.‖ ―I‘ll file that bit of information away for future reference. Aren‘t you worried that we might be seen together here?‖ ―Not really. Our branch manager lives over in Clearwater, and this place is a little too upscale for the rank and file.‖ ―Fair enough. Can we talk about this week?‖ ―Absolutely.‖ ―Who do you think I should focus most of my attention on? That is, what does your gut tell you?‖ ―The branch manager, and possibly the service manager.‖ ―I can understand your interest in the former, but the latter?‖ ―The service manager is the one who frequently has to come to the shop by himself in the middle of the night, pull a tire or two out of inventory, and turn them over to the driver of the service truck.‖ ―So, he either gets there before the driver shows up and tosses some tires in his own truck,‖ I said, ―or, more likely, he lingers a bit after the driver leaves and helps himself.‖ ―Exactly. A few high-dollar-value tires going out the door in the middle of the night would add up to a significant total.‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense, especially when a new tire for an eighteen-wheeler can cost a couple hundred bucks.‖ ―Make that four hundred bucks, and you‘ll be closer to the mark.‖ ―Really?‖ ―When you‘re talking Michelin, absolutely, and we‘re primarily a Michelin dealer.‖

Tampa, FL Monday morning

I MADE good use of the free breakfast available in my hotel and went

back to my room to get ready for the day. My client‘s local branch was located in a light industrial area situated between I-4 and SR-60, and I pulled into their parking area at ten. Inside the building, the man standing behind the counter looked up from his computer terminal when he heard the door open. The plastic tag pinned to his shirt read ―Service Manager,‖ so I lowered my shields and made good use of my abilities while I waited for him to say something to me. ―Can I help you?‖ he said. ―I‘m looking for Paul Johns.‖ ―He‘s out in the warehouse counting tires. Go right through that door to your left—he‘ll be the one holding the clipboard.‖ ―Thanks.‖ I stepped from the air-conditioned office into a warm, humid warehouse and paused while I pulled a little notebook out of my pocket and wrote a few things down—my mental probing had been fruitful. Then, after wandering about for a minute or two, I spotted Paul and another man busily checking off items on a computer printout in some sort of binder. They sensed my presence when I walked up to them and looked up from what they were doing. ―Hey, Sam,‖ Paul said. ―Good to see you.‖ ―You told me to stop by if I came to Tampa,‖ I said, as we shook hands. He introduced me to the branch manager, a man named Lou Ramirez, whom I already knew to be Puerto Rican. ―Care to help us?‖ Ramirez said. ―Sorry, I‘m on my way to look at a couple of houses on the other side of downtown.‖ ―Houses?‖ Ramirez parroted. ―I buy distressed properties, fix them, and flip them.‖ ―In this market?‖ ―Lots of opportunities out there, what with foreclosures and such—if you‘ve got ready cash, money talks.‖ ―Yeah, I can understand that.‖

I had lowered my shields and probed Ramirez during this exchange, and I struck a near mother lode of information, so much so that I felt an urgent need to get back to the car and make some notes. ―Why don‘t you join us for lunch?‖ Paul said. ―Sure. Just tell me where and when.‖ ―Lou,‖ Paul said, ―you‘re the local restaurant guide.‖ ―Do you guys like Cuban food?‖ Lou said. ―You bet,‖ I said. ―You know I do,‖ Paul said. ―Sam, do you know where Armenia Avenue is?‖ ―Sure.‖ He gave me a name and the nearest cross-street and said, ―You‘ll drive right by it if you‘re not careful—it‘s just a little hole-in-the wall mom-and-pop restaurant. We‘ll be there at one.‖ ―That‘s where you find the best ethnic food,‖ I said. ―See you there.‖ I went back to the car and sat for a minute, making frantic notes. Then I headed to the nearest McDonald‘s, where I went inside, purchased some iced tea, and sat down with my laptop. McDonald‘s had recently begun to offer free Wi-Fi in many locations, and it really came in handy—not that I‘d minded paying $2.95 for twenty-four hours‘ use when needed. That cost came under the heading of expenses, after all, and they were billed to the client. I did some careful searching of the public records of Hillsborough County and three surrounding counties as well, making copious notes in a WordPerfect document as I went. Thank God I brought a little laser printer with me. When I get back to my motel room, it‟s gonna be busy. To keep my cover story authentic, I‘d actually torn a couple of pages from one of the free real estate magazines I‘d picked up when I stopped at a gas station. To kill time, I had a look at the two properties in question, both of which conveniently had flyers available in curbside containers. By the time I headed for the restaurant, I knew enough about the two properties that I could talk intelligently about them. I

worked out a little script in my mind that would lead Mr. Ramirez to thinking more about his own little real estate empire, and I hoped that I‘d be able to remember everything I extracted from his thoughts. While I was in that part of the city, I used MapQuest printouts that I had brought with me to locate a couple of the city‘s gay bars— you never know when you might want to get laid. At the appointed time, I drove down Armenia Avenue and very nearly zipped past the restaurant. Lou hadn‘t been kidding—it was only one tiny storefront wide. The little restaurant had, by my count, twelve tables, most of them full. I spotted Paul and Ramirez sitting at a corner table and walked over to them.

Tampa, FL Monday afternoon ―Have any trouble finding this place?‖ Ramirez said. ―If you hadn‘t warned me, I‘d have driven right on by.‖ ―Have a seat,‖ Paul said. I took a seat, picked up the menu in front of me, and began to scan it. Then I looked up at the small chalkboard on the wall that listed the daily specials. ―So many choices,‖ I said. ―What do you like?‖ Ramirez said. ―I really like picadillo, but I get that all the time. What do you recommend?‖ He rattled off the names of a few dishes, and I finally settled on boliche, a popular Cuban dish consisting of eye round roast stuffed with chorizo sausages simmered in a tomato sauce base, with black beans and white rice. When the waiter had taken our orders, the conversation turned to real estate—with a little prompting from me. ―Did you find what you were looking for?‖ Paul said. ―Sadly, no. Neither property was distressed enough, particularly

when it came to price.‖ ―What do you look for?‖ Ramirez said. ―A house with good bones and a lot of mostly cosmetic problems,‖ I said. ―I‘m good at carpentry and electrical work, so I want to be able to jump in and invest a maximum amount of labor with a minimum amount of cash outlay.‖ ―And you‘ve done this before?‖ ―Many times, in many places.‖ ―What‘s the downside, if any?‖ Paul said. ―I do my best to keep my principal residence rented out and live in any house I‘m working on—so the downside is that I move around a lot and travel pretty lightly.‖ ―Good thing you‘re single.‖ ―Yeah.‖ I asked a lot of pointed questions about real estate in the Tampa Bay area, picking Ramirez‘s brain clean of information as I did, wondering how I was ever going to remember half of the things I learned long enough to write them down, let alone prove them. While Ramirez was in the restroom, I said to Paul, ―I told you where I was staying, didn‘t I?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Can you come by my motel this evening? I‘ve got a bit of show and tell for you.‖ ―Already?‖ ―It‘s just the tip of the iceberg, I think, but yes, already.‖ ―I‘ll be there.‖ We finished our lunch, I thanked Ramirez for the experience, and we went our separate ways. When I was back in my motel room, I settled down with my laptop and began some serious research. The more I delved into the public records of Hillsborough and the surrounding counties, the more intrigued I became. Then I went to the site of the Secretary of State in Tallahassee and did some more digging. By the time my client arrived, my little laser printer was spitting out pages as fast as it could manage—which wasn‘t very fast.

Tampa, FL Monday evening

PAUL settled down in a chair, declined the glass of wine I offered him, and came straight to the point. ―Well? You said something about show and tell.‖ ―For openers, your Mr. Ramirez is a very wealthy man,‖ I said, handing him a stack of documents. ―Really?‖ ―Oh, yes. He owns, either individually, jointly with his wife, or through two or three holding companies, an enormous amount of real estate.‖ ―How enormous?‖ ―I can‘t give you a dollar amount for his net worth because I don‘t have enough information, but I‘m guessing somewhere in the high sixfigure range, possibly more.‖ ―You‘re kidding?‖ ―Not about something this serious—the final number really depends on how heavily leveraged he is, and it might take a forensic accountant to figure that out. How long has he been working for your company?‖ ―Five or six years.‖ ―Some of his holdings predate his employment with you, then. When he applied for the job, did your application form authorize you to run a credit check on him?‖ ―No.‖ ―Then I‘ll have to do it clandestinely.‖ ―You can do that? How?‖ ―It‘s all in who you know, and you probably don‘t want to know. I‘ll need his social security number, home address, and date of birth, and the same information on your service manager.‖ ―If I may use your laptop, I can log on to our computer system in Jacksonville and get that for you.‖

―Here you go.‖ I got up from my chair and waved him over to it. He settled down at the laptop, and after a few minutes, a couple of documents emerged from the printer. ―Thanks,‖ I said when he handed them to me. ―If you‘ve accomplished this much in one day,‖ he said, ―do you think you‘ll be done in a couple of days?‖ ―That‘s hard to say. I‘m following a paper trail, and I have to go where it leads me until I reach a dead end. In any case, I‘ll call an end to it Friday and head home.‖ ―I‘ve got a bad feeling about this,‖ he said. ―Yeah, so do I.‖ ―Whatever you come up with, it needs to be airtight.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because Ramirez is a close personal friend of the president and CEO of the company. I don‘t want to give him any wiggle room when I lay this in front of him.‖ ―I won‘t give you anything in a written report that you can‘t take to the bank—or to a judge.‖ ―I‘ll accept that. By the way, you spun a really convincing tale over lunch—I was impressed.‖ ―Thanks. It wasn‘t the first time I‘ve assumed that particular role when I was sort of undercover.‖ ―I have to say, you almost had me ready to ask your advice on real estate.‖ ―Actually, I have spent a good deal of time studying the topic of flipping houses.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Absolutely, and the minute I sense an uptick in the housing market, I might just jump into it with both feet.‖ ―Good for you.‖ ―How did your inventory go?‖ ―It came up somewhat short, actually. Right now Mr. Ramirez is playing the blame-the-computer game.‖ ―That‘s hardly original.‖

―Yeah.‖ ―Didn‘t you tell me that the service manager only has access to a small part of the building after hours?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Do you have a good idea of what tires are supposed to be there?‖ ―Oh, yes. He has access to a set number of common sizes, and it seldom varies.‖ ―And you‘ve already counted them today?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―If you can do so without attracting attention, have a quick glance at that section before you go home tomorrow.‖ ―What am I looking for?‖ he said. ―Items that aren‘t officially supposed to be there or that weren‘t there this morning. I mean, those tires for eighteen-wheelers are big enough that you ought to be able to tell how many of them there are at a glance.‖ ―What do you know?‖ ―At the moment, nothing for sure. It was just a suggestion, okay?‖ ―Okay. May I take these printouts with me?‖ ―Sure. I‘d planned to append most of them to my final report, but I can reprint them as needed.‖ He left, and I went back to my research. By the time I went to bed, I had accumulated a massive amount of information, although I wasn‘t quite certain where it would lead me. I spent most of Tuesday poking around various parts of Tampa and Clearwater, taking a closer look at the homes of Ramirez and his service manager. I also called a number that I had used during previous investigations and outsourced some of my research. It was a fairly unproductive day, but my luck changed that night.

Tampa, FL Tuesday evening—late

I DECIDED to sample the Tampa bar scene, visiting three bars in fairly quick succession, and because I was driving, I stuck to tonic water when it was available and Sprite when it wasn‘t. In the last bar, a short and very muscular guy began to seriously hit on me, and I found his ass so enticing that I agreed to follow him home, but not before I gave his brain a quick once-over and found him to be fairly uncomplicated and totally focused on getting fucked. I spent an exhausting but totally satisfying couple of hours in his bed before I headed across town. On the way back to my motel, I spotted a truck with a familiar logo cruising along a thoroughfare that seemed to be devoted to bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. It struck me as an odd place for a service truck specializing in eighteen-wheelers to be, considering the hour, so I followed it discreetly for a few blocks, retrieving my camera from the glove box as I drove. I‘d just placed the camera on the seat beside me when the truck stopped at a red light and a woman hopped out of the cab. I realized immediately from her attire, and the location, that she was a ―lady of the evening,‖ so I snapped a few pictures, managing to get the company logo and vehicle number in the frame with the woman; then I followed the truck all the way to the East-West toll road and watched as it went through the toll booth. Acting on impulse, I decided to drive by the branch office of the tire company, and while there, I had another stroke of luck. I parked some distance away, switched to a telephoto lens, and took a few more pictures. One thing led to another, and I didn‘t get back to my motel room until five o‘clock in the morning. Needless to say, I hung the ―Do Not Disturb‖ sign on my door and slept until midafternoon. Once I was up and reasonably alert, I decided to spend the rest of the week on the night shift, so to speak. I went to the bars late in the evening and stopped by my client‘s branch operation a couple of times during each night. And I got lucky a couple of times, both in the bars and in my irregular surveillance. Friday night was an especially late night, and I requested a late checkout before I retired in the pre-dawn hours. I had assured the night clerk that I would vacate the room by three, and managed to do so—barely. Fortified with enough coffee to

keep me from going to sleep at the wheel, I headed up the interstate. The minute I got home, I went upstairs, crashed without bothering to check my messages or anything, and slept straight through until early Sunday morning.

Jacksonville, FL Sunday morning

I SPENT Sunday morning playing catch-up, but not until I‘d gone to the Y and swum enough laps to get my juices flowing once again. After the Y, I stopped by the usual hangout in Five Points for breakfast, but it was much too early to run into anyone I knew. On the way home, I ran by the post office—my box had overflowed with so much mail that it had been bundled and placed in one of the lock-boxes normally reserved for packages—after a quick detour by Publix to obtain replacements for the perishable items in my fridge, I was ready to get to work. Finally back in my office, I settled down at my desk to work on my report. By the time I was finished, it ran to over twenty pages, not counting exhibits, which included documents from various public records along with dozens of photographs. Paul had asked me to prepare two copies of the report, one for himself and one for the president of his company, but I went one better and printed four copies. Something told me that I was going to be asked to make a presentation, and I wanted to be prepared. When I attempted to send Paul an e-mail with the file attached, I couldn‘t—the many high-resolution pictures had made the file so large that my e-mail program choked on it, so I sent him the report with only a list of the exhibits. After all of that desk and computer work, I needed a break, so I went to the back porch and settled down in the new hot tub, and as my muscles began to relax, I began to plan my hot tub party.

Jacksonville, FL Monday morning

I

HAD barely settled down at my desk Monday morning when Paul

Johns called me to rave about my report. ―Thanks,‖ I said. ―I thought your bill was a little on the high side, however.‖ ―There‘s nothing in my bill that wasn‘t agreed to in advance, and as they say, you get what you pay for.‖ ―True, and I guess you don‘t haggle over fees after the fact.‖ ―Hardly, when they were agreed to up front.‖ ―When can you come over here and make a presentation of your report?‖ ―A presentation to whom?‖ ―Myself, the president of the company, and the vice-president in charge of operations.‖ ―My day is wide open right now.‖ ―How about two thirty this afternoon?‖ ―I‘ll be there, and I‘ll bring four complete copies of the report with me.‖ ―Great, thanks. You know where my office is located in the building, don‘t you?‖ ―Absolutely.‖ A few minutes before two thirty, wearing a dress shirt and tie, I walked into the reception area of the Morgan Tire Company headquarters and asked to see Paul Johns. ―He‘s expecting me,‖ I said. ―Do you know where his office is?‖ ―Yes, Ma‘am.‖

―I think his last visitor just left, but let me check.‖ She punched a few buttons on her phone, announced my presence into the tiny microphone attached to her headset, and said, ―He‘s waiting for you.‖ Paul met me at his door, shook my hand, and said, ―They‘re waiting for us in Dan‘s office.‖ He led me down a short hallway and into a large and richly paneled office. I recognized the man behind the desk as Dan Morgan, founder of the company, because I had seen his portrait in the reception area. He was in his fifties, bald, and portly. The other man in the office was Wiley Jackson, the operations guy, and I guessed his age to be somewhere in the neighborhood of forty. He had a full head of black hair and was thin, almost to the point of being skeletal. Introductions and hand-shaking rituals complete, Paul and I were invited to sit. ―Okay, gentlemen,‖ Dan Morgan said, ―what do you have for us?‖ ―As you know, Mr. Morgan—‖ I began. ―Call me Dan, please,‖ he said. ―Very well. As you know, Dan, I was hired to investigate and find the source of some inventory problems in your Tampa branch.‖ ―Did you find them?‖ ―Yes, Sir. I know what‘s happening to your inventory, and I‘ve discovered a much larger problem as well.‖ ―You have my undivided attention.‖ ―Your service manager is selling tires on the side,‖ I said. ―As you know, he has a dedicated area in your warehouse that he can access at night, but what you don‘t know is that once or twice a week, he manages to slip a couple of extra tires into that area. Then when he comes to the warehouse in the middle of the night to remove a tire from inventory legitimately to hand it over to a service truck driver, he waits until the driver is out of sight and loads a tire or two onto his own truck. I managed to photograph him doing this on two occasions and darn near got arrested in the process.‖ ―Arrested?‖ Morgan said.

―There I was at three in the morning, sitting in my car using a telephoto lens to good effect, when a police car pulled up. He was on patrol and thought that I was behaving suspiciously. When I showed him my credentials, gave him Paul‘s business card, and told him to call Paul if he needed to verify what I was up to, he decided to take my word for it and went on his way without calling anybody.‖ ―My wife would have been seriously ticked off if I‘d gotten a call in the middle of the night,‖ Paul said. ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―but I didn‘t want to waste time being taken to downtown Tampa. Anyhow, I followed your guy home and managed to get a couple of pictures of him stashing tires in his garage.‖ ―Two or three tires times two or three nights a week just about adds up to the shortage I‘ve been looking for,‖ Paul said. ―Good,‖ I said. ―I also got lucky and spotted one of your trucks out and about in the wee hours one morning. I was curious because he didn‘t seem to be rushing to a service call, so I followed him for a while and photographed him dropping a lady of the evening off at a busy intersection. I continued to follow him until he entered a tollbooth for the East-West toll road. If you have SunPass transponders in your trucks, you might want to show him their report and ask him what he was doing in the company truck at that hour.‖ ―That reminds me of something that happened here in Jacksonville,‖ Dan said. ―Remember, Wiley?‖ ―Oh, yeah,‖ Wiley said. ―One of our drivers picked up a lady of the evening and, being a gentleman, stopped by her favorite crack house so she could score. While they were there, the place was raided. Damn cops destroyed the interior of the truck‘s cab looking for drugs.‖ ―Let‘s move on to the meat of your report, Quentin,‖ Paul said. ―Okay,‖ I said, ―and this is where it gets tricky.‖ ―Tricky how?‖ ―Your Mr. Ramirez is definitely crooked,‖ I said, ―but it‘s going to be difficult to prove it.‖ I was watching Dan Morgan carefully, and he had definitely bristled when I used the word ―crooked.‖ ―Explain, please,‖ Paul said.

―He owns a great deal of real estate,‖ I said, ―in Hillsborough, Pinellas, and Pasco counties, but very little of it is held in his own name. Most of the properties are held in the names of several corporations. In my report, you‘ll find printouts from the public records of all three counties, along with details from the Secretary of State‘s corporation division showing the names behind the corporations.‖ ―How much real estate?‖ Dan said, somewhat testily. Clearly, he didn‘t like where this conversation was going. ―Two million dollars‘ worth,‖ I said, ―but that‘s market value per the property appraisers‘ web sites, and not net worth. I‘ve seen his credit report, and it shows the balances on some of the mortgages, but much of the paper is being carried by the former owners of the properties, and the public records only show the original amount of the mortgage, not the balance.‖ ―The terms of the original note are usually a part of the public records,‖ Paul said. ―Armed with that, I can probably come up with a balance—assuming that all of the payments were made on time.‖ ―Are you saying he purchased all that real estate with money he stole from us?‖ Dan said. ―Not all of it, and not directly,‖ I said. ―Many of the purchases predate his employment with you. And there‘s this to consider—do you know if he or his wife ever inherited money from anyone?‖ ―Not to my knowledge,‖ Dan said, ―and I‘ve known him for a very long time.‖ ―So,‖ Paul said, ―where is he getting the money to buy all of this real estate?‖ ―Kickbacks,‖ I said. ―Mr. Ramirez has five or six special accounts that only deal with him, correct?‖ ―That‘s correct,‖ Dan said. ―He sold five hundred tires to one of them three weeks ago, right?‖ ―Yes,‖ Dan said. ―He had to clear it with me, because the customer wanted to pay twenty dollars a tire less than market.‖ ―Just so,‖ I said, ―and Mr. Ramirez got a kickback of half of that twenty dollars in the form of a check for five thousand dollars from the

customer. He gets similar kickbacks from all of his so-called special accounts.‖ ―Damn!‖ Dan said. ―Are you sure?‖ ―I can‘t prove it in a court of law, but I‘m sure.‖ I could see that Morgan was about to go ballistic on us. Evidently, Paul saw it too, because he held up a hand and said, ―Time out, Dan. We need to hear what Quentin has to say, okay?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―I have here a list of deposits to Mr. Ramirez‘s bank account, and the dates they were made. Perhaps you can check them against some of the special deals he made. Bear in mind that the deposits may lag behind the sale by a factor of days, maybe even weeks—it depends on their relationship and the state of the customer‘s cash flow.‖ I handed Paul a sheet of paper and said, ―Dan, you have a decision to make. You can either fire Mr. Ramirez and use your contacts to make sure he never gets another job in your industry, or you can attempt to have him prosecuted. If you choose the latter course of action and it‘s successful, you might even be able to bring a civil suit to recover some money from him—but it will take a while and will certainly involve a great deal of publicity.‖ ―Son of a bitch,‖ Dan said. ―My wife and I have been guests in his home several times, and vice-versa. I don‘t want to believe it.‖ ―That, Sir, is your choice.‖ ―Quentin,‖ Paul said, ―how would we go about prosecuting him?‖ ―That depends upon how much proof a prosecutor would need in order to persuade a judge to issue a subpoena for records.‖ ―Can you point us in the right direction?‖ ―That I can do. Dan, does that telephone have a speaker function?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Put the speaker on and call this number, please.‖ I gave him the number, and when a switchboard operator answered, I said, ―Captain Martin, please.‖ After a pause, George‘s voice came through. ―Captain Martin.‖ ―Hey, George,‖ I said. ―Quentin here.‖

―Hello, Q. What can I do for super-sleuth today? Got some more criminals for me to arrest?‖ ―I‘m in the office of Dan Morgan, president and CEO of Morgan Tire Company. With me are Dan and two of his company officials, and we‘re on the speaker.‖ ―Okay, Q. Now that I know where you are, what‘s up?‖ ―I just spent a week in Tampa,‖ I said, ―and I‘ve uncovered a couple of rotten apples, so to speak, in their Tampa operation. One of them, the branch manager, is taking rather large kickbacks from a few customers.‖ ―Can you prove it?‖ ―Not to the satisfaction of a judge and jury, but I‘m absolutely certain of my facts. What we need to know is how do you convince a prosecutor to take on something like this without absolute proof?‖ ―You need a prosecutor who is young, hungry, and eager to make a name for himself. I can think of two or three right here in Jacksonville.‖ ―Yeah, but we‘re talking about Hillsborough County.‖ ―Understood. Do you know who Katharine Odum is?‖ ―Sure, she‘s the State‘s Attorney, and I voted for her. Why?‖ ―She could put you in contact with her counterpart in Hillsborough County.‖ ―Would she do that?‖ ―I don‘t know if she‘d do it for you, but as it happens, I seem to recall seeing a picture in the Sunday paper a week or so ago.‖ ―A picture?‖ I said. ―There was some sort of charity ball at the San Jose Country Club, and the picture showed Mr. Morgan and his wife sitting at a table with Katharine and her husband. I don‘t think they assign the seating randomly at those events, so I‘m guessing there‘s an underlying friendship there.‖ ―He‘s nodding his head to indicate that there is.‖ ―There you go—she‘ll probably be willing to talk to him and put him in touch with the right people.‖ ―Thanks, George.‖

―Tomorrow is our morning to swim laps at the Y. Care to join us?‖ ―Sure, what time?‖ ―Seven. See you then.‖ The line went dead, and I looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be lost in thought. ―Quentin,‖ Paul said after a moment, ―how do you know about that five-thousand-dollar kickback?‖ ―Mr. Ramirez, like most people,‖ I said, ―is very careless about computer security.‖ ―What the devil does that mean?‖ Dan said. ―When you‘ve been an investigator for a while,‖ I said, choosing my words very carefully, ―you learn how to obtain information clandestinely. I called a number that I‘d been given, and the person at that number directed me somewhere else. That led me to yet another number, and eventually I got a call from a guy who claims to be an expert at hacking into computers and/or computer systems. I don‘t know how he does it, and I don‘t want to know. For that matter, I don‘t even know who he is, because there are several degrees of separation between myself and him. What I do know is that he gained access to Mr. Ramirez‘s home computer and told me about a few things, such as that particular payment.‖ ―How would we learn more,‖ Paul said, ―assuming we decide to go that route?‖ ―I‘ll give you the number of a cell phone. I‘ve been told that it‘s one of those throwaway phones and that it will be kept active for only a couple of weeks, so that‘s your window of opportunity.‖ ―And,‖ Paul said, ―if we call this number, the guy will tell us what?‖ ―He won‘t actually tell you anything, at least not for free. He will, as I understand it, give you an idea of what he has and how much money he wants for the information. If I had to speculate, I‘d guess that he probably has a spreadsheet, or a file from an accounting program, or maybe even a downloaded bank statement or two.‖ ―I wish you had that information,‖ Dan said.

―Sorry, but that‘s a line that I won‘t cross. I will admit to having bribed a motel owner down in Starke a few weeks ago to give me a passkey and allow me to break the chain on one of his rooms so that I could catch a wife in bed with a man other than her husband, but that‘s as far as I‘ll go. I like my job, and I want to keep my license. Understand this, though: we live in the information age, and just about any secret can be had… for a price. All I can do is point you in the right direction—the rest is up to you. You should probably talk to your corporate attorney, because if you decide to prosecute, he might want to take some sort preemptive action to freeze some of Mr. Ramirez‘s assets before his legal bills start to eat them up.‖ The room was silent for a long minute or three. ―Captain Martin alluded to other criminals he‘s arrested for you,‖ Paul said. ―It happens once in a while,‖ I said. ―I recently spent four days undercover as a busboy in a bar, and when I had the goods on two bartenders who were dipping into the till, George sent two officers—a man and a woman posing as a couple. They sat and pretended to drink their drinks until we sprung a trap on the thieves.‖ ―I find it hard to picture you as a busboy,‖ he said. ―Four days‘ worth of stubble and some shabby clothes changes my appearance somewhat.‖ ―Okay, Quentin,‖ Paul said. ―You‘ve given us a great deal to think about, and we can‘t thank you enough.‖ ―A check will do nicely.‖ ―You can pick it up in the morning, if you like.‖ ―Great,‖ I said. Dan and Wiley were too distracted to do more than say ―thank you,‖ and I left the building.

Jacksonville, FL Tuesday morning

I

WAS already in the locker room at the Y pulling on my Speedos Tuesday morning when George and Mike arrived, and I waited until they had done the same, and we went to the showers together. Later, after a mile of laps, we sat in the empty steam room and visited for a bit. ―Thanks for your help yesterday, George,‖ I said. ―Were you attempting to land a big fish?‖ ―The biggest. The manager of their Tampa branch handles several large accounts personally. He asked the president of the company for permission to sell a shipment of five hundred tires at twenty dollars under market and then got a kickback from the customer of ten dollars per tire.‖ ―Holy fucking shit,‖ Mike said, ―that‘s quite a racket.‖ ―Yeah, and it‘s been going on for several years. The guy has amassed a ton of real estate spread across three counties that can‘t be explained by his regular income.‖ ―Are they gonna go after him?‖ George said. ―That‘s a toss-up. The guy happens to be an allegedly close personal friend of the president/CEO, and there‘s a certain amount of pride involved. But after considerable agonizing, I suspect they‘ll go for it.‖ ―Here‘s to another win for the good guys,‖ Mike said, raising an imaginary glass in the air. ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―but back to Jacksonville matters. How does next Sunday afternoon sound?‖

―How does it sound for what?‖ George said. ―Sorry, I got ahead of myself. I‘ve had a hot tub installed on my back porch, and I‘ve put up a privacy screen around the porch. I‘m thinking of having six or eight guys over for grilled steaks to inaugurate it.‖ ―Sounds good to me,‖ George said. ―I take it the mention of privacy screens indicates it will be a naked party,‖ Mike said. ―Yeah,‖ I said. ―I think wearing trunks would sort of spoil the hot tub experience.‖ ―Who‘re you gonna invite?‖ George said. ―Do you know Mitch and Rion?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Them, for sure, and maybe Carl and his partner, but I don‘t have any contact information for them. Also, a playmate of mine from Starke.‖ ―Sounds good. Count us in, and I‘ll send you the contact info.‖ ―Great. I‘ll send you an e-mail later today with the details. Do you think I should offer a choice of steak or salmon?‖ ―That might be a nicety,‖ George said, ―but probably not a necessity. Best to keep it simple.‖ ―That makes sense. Thanks.‖ Showered, refreshed, and dressed, I left the Y. Since it was just a few blocks away, I stopped by the offices of Morgan Tire Company and asked the receptionist if she had a check for me. ―Mr. Johns has it,‖ she said, ―and he wants to ask you a question about something. You can go on back to his office, if you like.‖ ―Good morning, Quentin,‖ Paul said when he saw me standing in his doorway. ―You‘re early.‖ ―I‘m fresh from swimming a mile of laps at the Y,‖ I said, ―and ready to face the day.‖ ―That‘s a lot of laps.‖ ―Yeah, but it keeps me fit.‖

―True, it‘s good exercise. I have a pool at home, but it‘s too short for serious lap swimming. I find having to turn so often very annoying.‖ ―The pool at the Y is twenty-five yards long, which is half of Olympic size, so that‘s not a problem. The receptionist said you had a question for me?‖ ―More of a statement than a question, but I didn‘t want to go into detail with her. Have a seat.‖ I sat and looked expectantly at him. ―First,‖ he said, ―here‘s your well-earned check.‖ ―Thanks.‖ ―We‘ve decided to make every effort we can to prosecute Mr. Ramirez to the fullest.‖ ―I think that‘s wise. If nothing else, the word will get out and perhaps discourage others from cheating you.‖ ―Just so. Also, Dan and I had a conference call with our corporate attorney late yesterday, and he made a suggestion.‖ ―A suggestion?‖ ―He suggested that we hire you to act as a go-between to handle dealing with the information broker, for want of a better word.‖ ―I can do that, but I can‘t see how I would apply a standard daily rate to the job.‖ ―We‘ve thought of that, and want to offer you a flat amount for handling it. Half up front, and half when the data is in hand. Plus, of course, whatever expenses it takes to close the deal.‖ He stated an amount. ―I can certainly live with that. It won‘t be the first time I‘ve done something like that, but when dollar amounts are mentioned, I‘ll need to be in a position to get a very quick answer from you—any perceived hesitation on my part might kill the deal.‖ ―We can do that. Have you any idea what size ballpark we‘re talking about here?‖ ―This is just a guess, but I think it‘s an educated guess—this guy, whoever he is, probably knows how much this episode has already cost

you, and that will surely influence his price.‖ I named a range of dollar amounts. ―Meaning he‘ll assume that the more we‘ve lost, the more we‘re likely to pay?‖ ―Exactly. It‘s a seller‘s market, after all.‖ ―I‘m authorized to go up to ten thousand dollars.‖ ―Mr. Morgan is really angry, isn‘t he?‖ ―You have no idea! I‘ve worked for this company for ten years, and I‘ve never seen him so angry. So, will you do it?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―How do you think the guy will want to collect the money?‖ ―That depends. If he‘s based in Florida, it might involve a meeting and an exchange of cash for data. If he‘s out of state, it might get complicated.‖ ―Complicated how?‖ ―I‘d probably have to travel to him for the meet. In any case, I think you‘ll need to be a bit flexible. If I have to go out of state, it might be a good idea for you to be able to come along, at least as far as whatever hotel I wind up in.‖ ―I can do that. Okay, then, we‘ll be flexible.‖ He handed me another check and said, ―Here‘s your down payment.‖ ―How‘d you know I would take the job?‖ ―I didn‘t, but it wouldn‘t cost me anything to void the check if you‘d said no.‖ ―Smart man.‖ ―Yeah. By the way, using a figure of ten dollars per tire, I was able very quickly to tie all but one of those deposit amounts to a specific sale.‖ ―That doesn‘t surprise me.‖ ―That information tipped the scales in favor of prosecution.‖ ―Yeah, I can see where it would. All right, then, I‘ll call the number when I get back to my office, and we‘ll see what happens.‖

―Thank you.‖ When I stopped by the bank on the way to my office to deposit the two checks, I was smiling—perhaps even grinning, given the size of the checks. At my desk, I spent a few minutes dealing with snail mail, e-mail, and telephone messages; then I made the call. To my surprise, it took only a few minutes to make the necessary arrangements, and there was only one stumbling block. ―You need to come alone,‖ the anonymous voice said. ―The client wants his controller, his money man, if you will, to come with me. They want to hold on to their cash until the last minute.‖ ―You okay with that, Mr. Detective?‖ ―With that much cash involved, I‘d rather not be responsible for it, so, yes.‖ ―Describe him to me.‖ ―Take a look at their website. His name is Paul Johns, and his picture is there, along with the other officers of the company.‖ ―Give me a minute.‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Okay, I‘ve got his picture printed out. Is that picture of you on your website current?‖ ―It was taken just a few months ago.‖ ―Good. Then follow instructions, and no tricks.‖ ―There won‘t be any tricks. Mr. Morgan is pissed as hell that a man he considered to be a friend stole from him for years. They want what you‘ve got to sell, no questions asked.‖ ―Good. See you in Atlanta.‖ I called Paul immediately and told him what was up. ―Okay,‖ he said. ―I‘ll have someone make our reservations while I go to the bank and round up the cash. I didn‘t expect such quick results.‖ ―I didn‘t quite know what to expect, but this sounds okay.‖ ―Good. Stop by here tomorrow, and we can ride to the airport together—I‘ll call you as soon as I know what our flight time will be.‖

―See you then.‖ Knowing that my weekend would be free, I sent e-mails to everyone on my list issuing an invitation to inaugurate the new hot tub. I was able to include Carl and Jim because George had kept his promise and sent me the info as soon as he was at his desk.

Atlanta, GA Hartsfield International Airport—Concourse B Wednesday—noon

FOLLOWING the instructions I‘d been given to the letter, Paul and I made our way from our arrival terminal to the specified restaurant in Concourse B and settled down to have a drink. I immediately lowered my shields and began to probe the brains around us. ―I wonder how long it will take him to contact us?‖ Paul said. ―He‘s watching us now.‖ ―He is?‖ ―He‘s four tables back, in the corner of the restaurant.‖ ―How can you be sure?‖ ―I‘m a detective and I detected him—it‘s what I do.‖ ―So what do we do?‖ ―We wait for him to approach us.‖ ―What‘s he waiting for?‖ ―He‘s trying to decide whether or not we were followed here.‖ ―Really?‖ Really. I took it directly from the guy‟s brain. I wished I could reassure my extremely nervous client, but I couldn‘t. ―Go ahead and open your laptop and boot it,‖ I said. ―Why?‖ ―Because according to the instructions, that‘s what you‘re supposed to be doing, and he‘s probably waiting to make a move.‖ ―Okay.‖

Two minutes later, a man sat down in one of the chairs at our table. He was wearing a lightweight hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled up around his face, and he was wearing shades. He was also carrying a shopping bag bearing the logo of one of the shops in the airport. ―You guys ready to do business?‖ he said. ―Absolutely,‖ I said. ―Got a sample to show us?‖ ―You bet.‖ He slid three pages of printouts across the table, and Paul quickly scanned them. ―Oh, my God,‖ Paul said. ―This is good.‖ ―Lots more where that came from.‖ ―How much more?‖ I said. ―I‘ve got several pages of printouts and a thumb drive for you. Have you got the money?‖ ―In my briefcase,‖ Paul said. ―Put it in that empty chair and open it so only I can see the contents.‖ Paul did as instructed, and the guy reached down and rifled through the contents of the briefcase. ―Looks good to me,‖ he said. ―Here you go.‖ More printouts slid across the table, and there was a thumb drive on top of them. ―Jesus H. Christ,‖ Paul said, ―it‘s a mother lode of data.‖ ―You pay a premium price and you get premium goods, plus a bonus.‖ ―A bonus?‖ I said. ―Remember that e-mail account I asked you to have your client set up?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Starting tomorrow, it‘s gonna be getting a shitload of data.‖ ―You managed to get a key-logging program downloaded onto our target‘s computer, didn‘t you?‖ I said. ―You‘re a smart dick, Mr. Dick.‖

―What‘s a key-logging program?‖ Paul said. ―Every time a key is pressed on that computer, it‘s being recorded, and every time the guy goes online, a clandestine file will be sent to your new e-mail address.‖ ―Holy shit,‖ Paul said. ―It‘s not as good as it sounds. You‘re gonna be overwhelmed with data, and it will take a lot of work to sift through the crap for a few nuggets of information.‖ ―I know somebody who can probably do that for us,‖ I said. ―There you go. Satisfied?‖ ―More than,‖ I said. ―Paul?‖ ―You bet. What do we do now?‖ ―You just sit quietly and play with your computer for twenty minutes or so. I‘ve got a flight to catch. Oh, and about that key-logging program….‖ ―What about it?‖ I said. ―It has a limited life span.‖ ―Meaning?‖ ―The chain of e-mail accounts involved will expire in sixty days, and with it the flow of information. On the other hand, if your target somehow discovers the key-logger, the flow of information may stop sooner.‖ ―Fair enough,‖ I said. ―Are we being watched?‖ Paul said. ―What do you think?‖ The guy quickly transferred the bundles of bills into his shopping bag, snapped the lid of the briefcase shut, left the restaurant, and melted into the crowd. He was smart—it would have been almost impossible to follow him through the busiest airport in the world. I looked at Paul and saw that he was totally engrossed with the papers he was shuffling through. ―Earth to Paul,‖ I said. He snapped out of it and said, ―What?‖ ―Want to order lunch? We have an hour before we board our

return flight.‖ He told me what he wanted, asked me to order for him, and turned his attention back to the papers in front of him. When the food arrived, his sat untouched for quite a while until I said, ―Paul,‖ rather sharply. ―What?‖ ―Your food is getting cold. Want me to spoon-feed you?‖ ―Thanks, I‘ll manage. This stuff is amazing.‖ ―I‘m sure it is, but you need to remember that you can never officially admit to having any of it. The best you can do is look for clues in those printouts that will lead you to some data that can be obtained legally, now that you know it exists.‖ ―Yeah, I understand.‖ He looked disappointed. ―You mentioned that you know someone who might be able to deal with the data that will be coming my way,‖ he said. ―Yes, I do. As it happens, Captain Martin‘s partner owns and operates a highly successful computer networking business right there in Five Points.‖ ―Is it Foster Network Services? That‘s the only company of that type in Five Points that I know of.‖ ―You know him?‖ ―We looked into using him a few years ago but decided to go inhouse instead. Surely this isn‘t something he would want to touch?‖ ―No, but he has a sort of nerdy little guy who works for him, and it‘s right up his alley, provided Mike will allow him to tackle it on the side.‖ ―Now you‘re talking.‖ ―Shall I give him a call?‖ ―Why not?‖ I called Mike and explained the problem to him. ―Does that sound like something Jonny would want to tackle in his spare time?‖ I said. ―You bet. When will you be back in town?‖ I gave him our flight information. ―He‘ll be back in the office by then, can you stop by?‖

―Hold on.‖ To Paul, I said, ―He wants to know if we can stop by his office when we get back to town.‖ ―Sure.‖ ―We‘ll be there.‖ ―Great, see you then.‖ ―One more problem solved, hopefully,‖ I said. ―Hopefully?‖ ―Mike said his helper was out of the office, but he felt sure that he‘d want to tackle the project. It seems the guy loves his electronic toys and is always eager to earn extra money so he can buy more of them.‖ He looked at his watch and said, ―Maybe we ought to head for our departure gate?‖ ―Absolutely.‖ We landed in Jacksonville on time, and half an hour later we pulled up in front of Mike‘s office and went inside. It didn‘t take long to strike a deal with Jonny, who seemed genuinely excited at the prospect of filtering through masses of data. Paul drove to his covered parking spot at the rear of the Morgan Tire Company building, and we got out of his car. ―Thank you, Quentin,‖ he said, ―for another job well done.‖ ―My pleasure.‖ He reached into his breast pocket, extracted a piece of paper, handed it to me, and said, ―Payment as agreed.‖ ―Great. Thanks.‖ ―Ever think of buying a new car?‖ he said, looking pointedly at my pony car. I had to laugh. ―Don‘t let looks fool you. The body may look old, but there‘s a nearly new and very expensive power plant under that hood. When I follow people, I need to be unobtrusive, and this car fills the bill. But if I get in a jam, I can outrun just about anything on the road.‖ ―What kind of power plant?‖ ―See for yourself.‖

I unlocked my car, started the engine, popped the hood, walked around to the front of the car, and raised the hood. ―That looks like an Interceptor engine,‖ he said, clearly impressed, ―and it sounds great.‖ ―Latest and greatest.‖ I gave him the engine‘s stats and added, ―Are you a fan of muscle cars?‖ ―Yeah, but I sort of put that interest on hold when I started a family.‖ ―It can be a time-consuming and expensive hobby, but I can deduct a great deal of my car expenses as a legitimate business expense.‖ ―How often have you had to outrun somebody?‖ ―Twice,‖ I said, ―which more than makes the expense worth it.‖ ―That‘s interesting,‖ he said. ―I guess I should say, ‗never assume‘.‖ ―Yeah. Thanks again.‖ ―It was an interesting experience.‖

Jacksonville, FL Sunday

COMPARED to my brief but exciting trip to Atlanta, the rest of the week was rather boring. I did a couple of small and very routine jobs in between getting my house as clean as it had ever been in preparation for the party. The e-mailed invitations had instructed guests to bring towels and beverages if they wanted anything other than soda, beer, or wine. The first person to arrive was Jethro, who was three hours early, and the minute he opened his mouth, I understood why. ―Can we go upstairs for a bit?‖ he said when I met him at the door. ―Sure.‖ To say that my buddy Jethro was horny and sex-starved would be an understatement, and after an exhausting (but fun-filled) hour, I had to call a halt. ―Jethro,‖ I said, ―I‘ve got to take a quick shower and get downstairs to the kitchen.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because I‘ve got some last-minute things to do.‖ ―Spoilsport.‖ ―Jethro, we‘ve got all night, don‘t we?‖ ―How did you know that?‖ ―How did I know what?‖ ―That my grandparents are in Pensacola visiting my aunt and uncle and won‘t be home until Tuesday.‖ ―I didn‘t actually know about your grandparents, but I knew that you were planning to spend the night.‖ ―How?‖

―I guess I‘m psychic, like my great-aunt.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yeah. Everybody thought the old lady was crazy, but she knew things.‖ This back-and-forth exchange continued while we showered and dressed. Finally, when we were in the living room, he said, ―But how did you know?‖ ―Jethro, go to the front door, take a good look at your car, and tell me what you see.‖ ―Okay.‖ He went to the door, opened it for a moment, and stood— presumably inspecting his car, which was in the driveway. Then he closed the door and walked back to where I was standing. ―I didn‘t see anything.‖ ―Think about it, and you might figure it out,‖ I said. ―This is gonna drive me nuts,‖ he said when we were in the kitchen. ―Well, before you go around the bend, do you want to help me get ready for the party?‖ ―Sure. What can I do?‖ ―Follow me.‖ I led him down the hall and out onto the porch. ―See that picnic table?‖ I said. ―Sure.‖ ―Take some towels from the hall closet and cover the benches on each side of the table.‖ ―Okay, but why?‖ ―Because I don‘t want my guests to get any splinters in their butts.‖ ―How would they do that? Oh, you mean everybody‘s gonna be naked?‖ ―Hot tubs aren‘t much fun with clothes on.‖ ―But your e-mail said to bring a bathing suit.‖

―That was for your grandma‘s benefit, in case you showed her the invitation.‖ ―I don‘t know if I can get naked in front of a bunch of people.‖ ―Haven‘t you ever been in a locker room?‖ ―Sure, but….‖ ―Don‘t worry about it, you‘ve got a nice body and an impressive package, so there‘s nothing to worry about.‖ ―I‘ll get the towels.‖ ―When you finish with that, you can get some bags of ice out of the freezer and put them in the ice chest by the grill.‖ ―Gotcha.‖ ―See those two big wooden salad bowls on the table?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―They need to be filled.‖ ―With salad?‖ ―No, it‘s too early to put out the salad. They need to be full of chips and stuff. Come to the kitchen with me and I‘ll show you.‖ Jethro was a good helper, and by the time the first guests arrived, we were as ready as we could be. ―Hi, guys,‖ I said to George and Mike when they appeared at the door. ―Come on in.‖ ―Nice place, Q,‖ George said. ―Thanks. Follow me.‖ As we walked down the hall to the porch, we passed the spare bedroom, and I said, ―When you get ready for the hot tub, you can leave your clothes in that bedroom—and the bathroom is across the hall.‖ When George saw Jethro sitting in one of the lawn chairs that I had brought onto the porch for the party, he said, ―Gee, Q, I didn‘t know you had a son.‖ ―Very funny. Jethro, meet my friends George and Mike. Guys, this is Jethro, and he‘s come all the way from the metropolis of Starke to be with us today.‖ Hands were shaken and rituals were observed. Mike was looking

at the hot tub. ―That looks awfully inviting, Q,‖ he said, ―May we?‖ ―By all means. After all, that‘s why you‘re here.‖ They disappeared into the house for a couple of minutes. When they returned to the porch, they were naked, and I thought Jethro‘s eyes were going to pop out when he saw their smooth crotches. ―Close your mouth, Jethro,‖ I said, ―you‘ll attract flies.‖ ―I‘ve never seen anybody without pubic hair,‖ he said. ―Mike and I have been smoothies for a long time,‖ George said. ―Long story there.‖ They stepped into the tub and settled down in it while I went to answer the door and greet Carl and Jim. ―Hi,‖ I said. ―George and Mike are already here, but I guess you know that already.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Carl said, ―his city car is hard to miss, even if it is unmarked.‖ I led them back to the porch, introduced them to Jethro, and Carl said, ―Oh, good, another redhead to share the pain.‖ ―What does that mean?‖ I said. ―We‘ve been to a few naked functions,‖ Jim said, ―and some guys seem to be absolutely fascinated by Carl‘s red pubes.‖ ―You could always shave,‖ I said. ―Believe me,‖ Carl said, ―I‘ve thought about it.‖ ―Let‘s go get undressed,‖ Jim said. ―That tub looks inviting.‖ ―Why don‘t you join them, Jethro?‖ I said. ―You and Carl can give each other moral support.‖ Jethro followed Carl and Jim down the hall, and I went to answer the door. ―Hey, Mitch, Rion,‖ I said. ―Our group is complete, now that you‘re here. Follow me.‖ When we arrived on the porch, Jim was stepping into the tub, and Jethro and Carl were waiting their turn. ―Holy redheads, Batman,‖ Rion said. ―I just love red pubes, and here we have two for the price of one.‖

―See what I mean,‖ Carl said. ―Just ignore him, Jethro—he‘ll get over it.‖ ―Is there enough room for two more?‖ Mitch said. ―It‘s supposed to seat seven,‖ I said. ―Maybe eight, if they‘re really close friends.‖ ―Aren‘t you gonna join us?‖ Rion said. ―As soon as I put the potatoes in the oven.‖ I returned to the kitchen to do just that. Then I left my shorts, underwear, and tee in the guest bedroom with all the other clothing and returned to the porch carrying a timer, which I placed on the picnic table. ―Room for one more?‖ I asked when I stood by the tub. ―Sure,‖ George said. Everyone shifted around a bit, and I slid into the warm water. ―Feels good,‖ I said. ―Yeah,‖ Mitch said, ―but we should be careful not to overdo it.‖ ―Twenty minutes in, followed by a shower and a short break for a cold drink before you return ought to do it,‖ Rion said. ―Is anyone hungry?‖ I said. ―Not yet, but getting there,‖ Mike said. ―I‘ve never baked eight potatoes at one time, so the timing of the steaks will be dependent upon them. When they‘re almost ready, I‘ll start grilling the steaks.‖ ―Sounds like a plan,‖ George said. ―And,‖ I said, ―I know how these gatherings somehow get, so if anyone is feeling amorous, feel free to use any empty bedroom.‖ ―Geez, Q,‖ George said, ―you must think we‘re all a bunch of sex-starved kids.‖ ―Not at all,‖ I said, ―but I‘m well aware of the effect that all this nudity sometimes has on gay men, and I‘ve heard about some of those pool parties behind privacy fences in Deerwood and other places.‖ ―That‘s true—Mike and I have been to a couple of them.‖ ―What happens at those parties?‖ Jethro said. ―Sex.‖

―You mean you guys swap boyfriends?‖ ―Hardly that, but once in a while someone puts on a little demonstration, which prompts some couples to find a private place to, well, couple.‖ ―Oh.‖ ―This is a nice place, Q,‖ George said. ―How long have you owned it?‖ ―Let me think… six, no, seven years,‖ I said. ―I bought the house where my office is not too long after I started out, and it took every penny I had to do that. Then, a couple of years later, I got involved in a major kidnapping case and collected a huge reward when I found the missing kid.‖ ―How huge?‖ George said. ―That is, if you don‘t mind telling us.‖ ―It‘s no secret—it was all over the media. The reward was half a million and change.‖ ―No shit?‖ Mike said. ―Yeah. Anyway, after the IRS took their cut, I used the money to pay off the mortgage on my office, and there was enough left over to buy this place, which had just come on the market. It was a somewhat distressed property available at a very good price, so I snapped it up. It took five years of extremely hard work to get it to the state in which you see it, and I had to take out a small mortgage to finish the job.‖ ―George can tell you all about sweat equity,‖ Mike said. ―He spent years getting our house fixed up to his satisfaction.‖ ―Been there, done that, even got da T-shirt,‖ George said. ―So, Jethro,‖ Carl said, ―what does a gay guy find to do in a place like Starke?‖ ―Not much,‖ Jethro said. ―I go to college and I go to work.‖ ―That doesn‘t sound very exciting,‖ Carl said. ―No,‖ I said, ―but when he starts his junior year in Gainesville this fall, he‘ll have a couple of thousand gay guys after him.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Rion said, ―and redheads are in this year, aren‘t they?‖ ―Oh, to be a junior in college again,‖ Mitch said, ―knowing what I know now.‖ ―What do you know now that you didn‘t know then?‖ Jethro said.

―For one thing,‖ Mitch said, ―I didn‘t know that I was gay.‖ ―Really?‖ Jethro said. ―Oh, yeah. As I learned years later, others had already figured me out, but I didn‘t figure myself out until I met Rion.‖ ―Sounds like there‘s a story there,‖ Jethro said. ―You could say that, but it‘s kinda long.‖ ―Excuse us,‖ George said, ―but we were first in, and I think we need to be the first to take a break.‖ He and Mike climbed out of the hot tub as best they could without stepping on anyone‘s feet, grabbed their towels, and headed for the shower. ―You didn‘t follow my suggestion, Q,‖ Mitch said. ―What suggestion was that?‖ I said. ―Oh, you mean an outdoor shower. I thought about it, but then I realized that with tile floors in the house, I might not need to do that. I‘m gonna reserve judgment until I see how things go today.‖ ―That makes sense. On the other hand, that area between the exterior door and the wall of the garage could easily be screened off with some more of that lattice.‖ ―Yeah, I‘ve thought about that. I did most of what you see in one afternoon, and I‘ve been out of town a lot since then. Let‘s call the porch area a work in progress for now.‖ Everyone alternated between time in the tub, showering, and time spent sitting and sipping cold drinks. The timer eventually rang, so I excused myself to go to the kitchen, and when I returned, I was carrying a platter of steaks. ―Okay, guys,‖ I said, ―it‘s decision time. Is medium rare okay for everyone?‖ There was a chorus of okays. ―All right, medium rare it is. I need a couple of volunteers to go to the kitchen—one to take the potatoes out of the oven and the other to fill the salad plates. Everything you need is right there on the counter, and there are two or three kinds of salad dressing in the fridge. By the time you return with the potatoes and salad, the steaks should be done.‖ I went to the grill without waiting to see who volunteered and

began to arrange the steaks on it. ―Better put on an apron, Q,‖ Jim said, ―that grease is liable to hit some sensitive places.‖ ―Good idea,‖ I said, ―and a towel will do. Jethro, can you bring me one?‖ ―Sure,‖ he said. The grill was already at a perfect temperature, the steaks were ready in record time, and the eight of us filled the benches on both sides of the picnic table. ―This is so cool,‖ Jethro said. ―What is?‖ Carl said. ―Eating naked.‖ ―You should go to Camp David some time,‖ Mitch said. ―What‘s Camp David?‖ ―It‘s a clothing-optional campground for men down in central Florida.‖ ―Sounds like fun.‖ ―It is. Right after we met, Rion took me down there for a weekend.‖ ―Did you actually camp out?‖ I said. ―No. Some friends of his from Orlando were there, and they had a good-sized travel trailer. We were naked from the time we got there Friday until Sunday afternoon when we left.‖ ―Lots of good-looking men?‖ Jethro said. ―Not really. It was mostly an older crowd. They have a huge Jacuzzi, a small swimming pool, and other amenities.‖ ―You left out the movie room,‖ Rion said. ―Yeah,‖ Mitch said. ―There‘s a long and narrow room where porno films are shown on a TV set all day long. Anyhow, that‘s why I became a smoothie—it‘s the only way to get an all-over suntan.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Rion said, ―you see a lot of that at clothing-optional venues.‖ The conversation shifted to a variety of topics. At one point during a lull, Jethro said, ―Quentin, you never did tell me how you

knew.‖ ―How I knew what?‖ ―That I came prepared to spend the night.‖ ―I told you I was psychic, like my Great-Aunt Ida.‖ ―Don‘t make a joke, and tell me how you knew. It‘s driving me crazy.‖ ―Think about your arrival,‖ I said. ―So?‖ ―I heard you drive up and went to the door. Remember, I was standing in the open door when you got out of your car?‖ ―So?‖ ―Think about what you did.‖ ―I got out of the car; then I went around to the passenger side and took my towel off of the front seat.‖ ―You did something else.‖ ―What?‖ ―The towel was sitting under something, wasn‘t it?‖ ―Yeah, my gym bag. I had to pick it up to get at the towel.‖ ―And when you did, I saw it.‖ ―Oh—so, all that psychic business was nonsense.‖ ―Not at all. I did have a Great-Aunt Ida who claimed to be psychic, and she told me she sensed that I was, also.‖ ―Are you?‖ ―I‘ll never tell.‖ When the food was gone and table cleared, we all tried the hot tub once again. After that, the party began to break up. ―We really hate to get dressed and leave,‖ George said, ―but Robbie is over at Anthony‘s, and we need to pick him up.‖ ―No problem,‖ I said, ―it‘s been a great afternoon.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Mike said, ―and if you‘ll invite us again, we‘ll all chip in and bring the food.‖ ―You‘ve got a deal,‖ I said. As the last guests were leaving, I said, ―Jethro, why don‘t you go

get your gym bag?‖ ―I can do that.‖ He retrieved the bag from his car, and I secured the house for the evening, although it was still fairly early. ―Well,‖ I said, ―whatever shall we do now?‖ ―I‘ll race you to the bed.‖ ―Okay.‖

Jacksonville, FL Sunday evening

JETHRO and I had a fun time in the master bedroom; then we went back downstairs, out to the porch, and climbed into the hot tub. ―This is great,‖ he said as he settled down in the tub, ―especially now that there‘s so much room.‖ ―It is that.‖ ―I really liked your friends.‖ ―They‘re a good group of guys,‖ I said. ―And they‘re so… so….‖ ―Normal-acting?‖ ―Yeah, normal-acting.‖ ―Jethro, when you start school at the university, you‘re going to find out very quickly that stereotypes exist because there is at least some truth to them. Gay men come in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and patterns of behavior.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―You‘re going to have to learn to deal with them all of them, and every time you feel tempted to betray too much of yourself, remember Donny.‖ ―Oh, yeah. I‘ll never forget that lesson.‖ ―I sincerely hope, for your sake, that you don‘t.‖ ―You make it sound like I‘m never gonna see you again.‖ ―Not at all. I‘m sure we‘ll see each other from time to time, but when you get involved with campus life, you‘re gonna find people your age—people that have a lot more in common with you.‖ ―You and I have a lot in common.‖

―Jethro, the only thing we really have in common is that we like to suck dick.‖ ―Maybe.‖ ―All I‘m saying is that in a few months time you‘re gonna be much too busy to spare the time of day for a broken-down old detective like me.‖ ―You‘re not broken down, and you certainly aren‘t old.‖ ―Perhaps not, but at thirty plus, I feel old around someone as young as you.‖ ―I can‘t help being nineteen.‖ ―No, you can‘t, and that‘s my point. You‘re nineteen and you‘ve got a lot more to look forward to than I do, so enjoy it while you can.‖ ―What do you mean by that?‖ ―I‘m saying enjoy your life while you can, because eventually you‘ll be out there in the real world, earning a living, incurring obligations, etcetera. Your early twenties are ahead of you, and you need to enjoy them to the fullest.‖ ―Is that what you did?‖ ―Not nearly as much as I would have liked. Not even close.‖ The next morning, I made breakfast for Jethro, after which he left in time to make his first class. The minute the door closed behind him, I crawled back in bed and slept a couple of hours.

Lake City, FL Tuesday evening

JUST my luck. Yet another divorce case in yet another redneck town. I know a guy who has taught for more than a dozen years in a high school in West Jacksonville—a school whose student body is about ninety percent black. He has told me more than once that when his school‘s football team plays a game against the high school in Lake City—and wins—they have to be escorted out of town by state troopers for their own safety.

I was in a Microtel on I-75 and had a midmorning meeting scheduled with my client, so I crawled in bed around eleven and composed myself for sleep. As usual when I was in a small town, I lowered my shields, cast my mental net, and caught nothing. Ah well, maybe one of these days. My client was a married woman named Betty Alderman who would soon be taking her children out of town for several days to visit her parents. She called me from her house thirty minutes after her husband left for work, telling me that it was safe to come see her. As I drove down her street, I looked carefully at the other houses nearby, making mental notes as I went. Mrs. Alderman, a statuesque blonde, was at the door waiting for me when I pulled into her driveway, and she motioned me quickly inside the minute I emerged from my car carrying a large briefcase. Once the door was closed, I said, ―Mrs. Alderman, I‘m Quentin Quasar.‖ ―Yes, I know. You look just like the picture on your website.‖ ―How much time do we have?‖ I said. ―Bobby Joe will be coming home for lunch around one.‖ ―Then I‘d better get busy.‖ She was convinced that her husband had entertained a female guest the last time she‘d taken the children to her mother‘s for an extended visit and wanted very badly to get the goods on him this time. Working as quickly as I could, I installed two very special wireless webcams in the master bedroom, aimed at the king-size bed from different directions, and an additional webcam in the master bathroom. Then she led me to the den and showed me their computer setup. ―This is ideal,‖ I said after I examined the equipment. ―The wireless router is connected directly to the cable modem, so it‘s still active when the desktop computer is shut down.‖ ―Yeah,‖ she said, ―both kids have laptops for school, and they use them in their rooms at all hours.‖ ―Don‘t forget to retrieve these little gadgets when it‘s over,‖ I said. ―They‘re not cheap, and I can give you some credit on your bill when I get them back.‖

―I‘ll take good care of them.‖ Thirty minutes later, the job was done. Using my laptop, I configured the router in such a way that I could tap into it remotely, either from my laptop or from the desktop computer in my office. I offered to go back to Jacksonville to monitor the signals, but she said no. ―I don‘t care if it costs more,‖ she said, ―I‘m gonna give you a key and the alarm code. If something happens to one of those cameras before you get anything useful, I want you to come back here and fix it.‖ It wasn‘t my favorite thing to do, but I agreed and returned to my lonely motel room to await developments. I set my laptop on the desk in my room, booted it, and connected to the webcams just in time to see my client emerge naked from her shower. I think I‟ll leave that image out of the final report; after all, I wouldn‟t want to embarrass my client. One thing‟s for sure—she‟s a real blonde, assuming she doesn‟t use peroxide on her twat. Those thoughts had just crossed my mind when she looked directly at the camera, smiled, waved, and cupped her generous mammary glands in her hands, knowing full well that I was watching. Women never cease to amaze me. I checked out of the motel Saturday afternoon, drove the seventy or so miles to my office, and connected once again to the router in the Alderman residence. By the time Mrs. Alderman and the children returned home Sunday afternoon, I had several hours‘ worth of Mr. Alderman cavorting—in and out of bed—with two different women, one of whom looked to be barely legal. My client called me Monday morning as soon as her husband had gone to work, and I gave her a verbal report. ―That son of a bitch,‖ she said after I had finished laying it out for her. ―Yes, Ma‘am,‖ I said. ―It‘s all on a DVD for you; when would you like to pick it up?‖ ―A friend of mine has referred me to a good divorce lawyer in Jacksonville, and I‘ve already spoken to him once. Let me find out

when I can come see him, and I‘ll stop by your office on the way.‖ ―Okay, I‘ll be waiting for your call.‖ Three days later, she came by my office to bring me the webcams and pick up the DVD, which she insisted on looking at before she left. I skimmed through the video with her, fast-forwarding wherever possible to save time. ―That‘s my best friend, Darlene,‖ she said, when a rather voluptuous redhead undressed and crawled in bed with her husband. I fast-forwarded some more. ―Oh, my God,‖ she said, ―that‘s the older sister of my daughter‘s best friend.‖ ―Is she legal?‖ ―Barely, I think.‖ I stopped the machine, popped the DVD out of it, and placed it in its case. ―Here you go,‖ I said, handing her the DVD, my report, and the all-important invoice which showed that she owed me quite a bit over and above the retainer she‘d given me. She glanced at the invoice, retrieved a wallet from her purse, and pulled some bills from it. ―Here you are,‖ she said, ―and I can‘t thank you enough.‖ ―All in a day‘s work,‖ I said.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning

I SPENT most of Saturday rigging an outdoor shower just outside the door to the back porch. It was easy to screen the shower with some lattice, and I purchased and planted a couple of good-sized flowering vines that I knew to be of the fast-growing variety. I also fastened a huge sheet of translucent plastic to the inside of the lattice, thinking that it would suffice until the vines grew large enough to do the job. Mitch was right—all I had to do was extend the lattice about four feet from

the porch to create sufficient privacy. The rear wall of the house screened the shower on one side, and the garage protruded a good fifteen feet from that wall, thus providing privacy on the remaining side. The final touch was covering an area about four feet on a side with concrete paving stones so people wouldn‘t get their feet muddy while showering. Over the course of the next three weeks, I traveled literally from one end of the state to the other looking for missing heirs. Mitch‘s law firm had hired me to do the job, which involved an extremely wealthy old lady who had died intestate—in order words, without having made a will. She had never been married and had no children, so a genealogist had been hired to construct a family tree. Yours truly was charged with the task of making contact with the people on each and every branch—at least, the ones who had failed to respond to letters from Mitch—so the money could be divvied up as equitably as possible. I had actually started my search in Pensacola and worked my way down the Gulf coast all the way to Naples—and that‘s a hell of a long way. From Naples, I had made my way up through the middle of the state, over to the East Coast, and then inland from there until I arrived at my final destination.

Silver Springs, FL Tuesday afternoon—late

ALTHOUGH I would be spending some time searching records in the Marion County Courthouse, which was situated on the western edge of downtown Ocala, I had elected to stay in Silver Springs, six miles to the east. This was because preliminary research online had led me to believe that my quarry would probably be located near the Ocala National Forest, which occupied roughly the eastern third of the county and parts of three adjacent counties. According to my research, the Ocala National Forest, at six hundred plus square miles, was the second-largest national forest in the

country, and it was the oldest national forest located east of the Mississippi River, as well as the southernmost national forest in the country. So I checked into a new-looking Holiday Inn Express on SR-40 in Silver Springs and settled down for yet another boring evening in yet another town. I was already tired enough from three weeks of constant travel that I didn‘t even consume my usual glass or two of wine as an aid to sleep. Instead, I turned out the lights in my room, settled back on my pillow, and as I had done in countless hotels over the previous three weeks, lowered my shields to probe. There was too much mental static, for want of a better term, to the west of me, as would be expected from a city whose metro area had a population of nearly two hundred thousand, so I concentrated on the area to the east, which, because of the presence of the national forest just a few miles away, was very sparsely inhabited. Needless to say, I had no idea how my gift worked, let alone how to control and focus it, as I probed to the east and north of where I lay. All at once, something latched onto my little tendril of thought, and I had a contact. “Help! Somebody help me, please!” “What‟s the matter?” I sent. “Who are you?” came a clear and insistent demand. “Who are you, and where are you?” I sent back. “My name is Nate Braddock, and I‟m being held prisoner somewhere in the forest.” “Held prisoner?” “My mom and my stepfather belong to a really nasty charismatic cult, and they think I‟m possessed by the devil, so they had me kidnapped and brought here for reprogramming.” “Why would they think that?” “Because I‟ve gotten careless a few times.” “Careless?” “You know, revealing that I know things when I can‟t explain how I know them. Thank God they never suspected that I‟m gay or things would be even worse—if that‟s possible. People in those cults really hate gays.”

“I know.” “You do? How?” “Because I‟m gay too.” “You never told me who you are.” “My name is Quentin, and I‟m in the area on business.” This entire exchange had taken only a few seconds, and my mind was reeling from the effect—and the excitement. “Please, you‟ve gotta rescue me.” “How will I know where you are?” “I was drugged and blindfolded when they brought me here, but I can get the information you need out of one these guys‟ brains.” “How many of them are there?” “At the moment, two. I‟m in one tent, pretty much tied up hand and foot, and they‟re in a couple of tents nearby. Give me a minute.” I had been quickly dressing during this exchange, and I grabbed the notepad and pen provided by the motel when I finished. Without warning, a series of images began to hit me, so I began to frantically make notes. I was overwhelmed that I could receive actual images from another telepath, but I somehow managed to write down the directions he‘d lifted from one of the kidnapper‘s minds. I asked him to send it again just to be sure. “Nate, how long have you been in that tent?” “Since Saturday afternoon.” “Are you hurt?” “Only a few bruises so far. They won‟t start in earnest until the rest of their group arrives this weekend.” “Their group?” “The cult has a group of people whose specialty is reprogramming people like me.” “How old are you, anyway?” “Twenty-three. I‟m supposed to start graduate school this fall.” “Do the two guys have guns?” “Yes.” “What do you look like?”

“Why?” “How will I know if I‟m rescuing the right person?” He started to describe himself, but I stopped him. “It would be easier if you remembered looking at yourself in a mirror.” An image of a young guy, naked from the waist up, landed in my head. His hair was ―dirty blond,‖ and he had a sort of swimmer‘s build. I still couldn‘t get over the fact that I was receiving actual images from him. “Whoa! I didn‟t need to see you naked, but thanks, and by the way, you‟re kind of cute.” “Thanks. In the bathroom is the only time I ever see myself in the mirror—I‟m not allowed to have one in my room. What do you look like?” I sent him an image of myself—fully clothed, of course. “Don‟t say it, I know I look sort of average.” “You look okay to me.” “Are your captors asleep yet?” “Let me check…. Not quite, but they‟re getting there.” “Give me a minute to open my laptop and take a look at MapQuest, okay?” “Sure.” I had brought my trusty low-end laser printer with me, and using the free Wi-Fi, I accessed the Internet to print a few pages. “I‟m trying to send you an image of what I‟m doing right now, is it working?” “You bet. This is neat, isn‟t it—sort of like looking over your shoulder? All my life I‟ve been scared to death that I was the only one.” “Me too, but this is hardly the time to get into that kind of discussion.” “True.” “Okay. It looks like you‟re just south of the road a couple of miles east of an intersection with another road.”

“Yeah, one of the kidnappers was following precise instructions as to how far he had to drive from each point of reference along the way.” I shut down the laptop and prepared to leave. “I‟m leaving my hotel room now and may not be able to maintain steady contact until I get downstairs to my car.” “What hotel?” “I‟m in a hotel in Silver Springs, and according to MapQuest, I‟ve gotta drive ten miles or so east before I get close to you.” “Now that I know you‟re coming, I can be patient.” “I hope so, because I‟m gonna take a quick detour to Walmart— it‟s only a couple of blocks away—to purchase some gear.” “Gear?” “Heavy-duty flashlights and stuff. I‟ll do my best to stay in contact so you can see what I‟m doing.” “Cool. Can you buy me some shoes?” “Why?” “Because they took mine.” “Sure, what size?” “Ten D.” “Anything else you need?” “Out of here.” I drove the three blocks to Wally World, made my purchases, and headed east on SR-40. Once I passed the entrance to the actual Silver Springs tourist attraction, my headlights picked up nothing but woods. After a few miles, a sign announced ―Ocklawaha River,‖ and the highway rose steeply and went over a high-rise bridge that had been built in anticipation of the construction of the now-defunct CrossFlorida Barge Canal. Nate and I managed to carry on a conversation throughout most of the time I was driving—in fact, the more practice we got, the easier it became. “Nate, do you know if there are any other people camping nearby?” “Based on what I overheard these two guys saying, I think we‟re

in a pretty isolated spot. Why?” “I was just wondering if there would be anyone nearby who could help.” “Oh.” I turned left off of SR-40 onto CR-314 toward Salt Springs, which was a small community pretty much surrounded by the national forest. The occasional houses along the road grew fewer, and ten minutes later there was nothing on either side of the blacktop but shortleafed pine trees. Had it not been for the full moon, I would have driven right past my turnoff, which was little more than a track of two shallow ruts that led into the woods. I left the blacktop and drove somewhat cautiously down the track, extremely conscious of the fact that the big engine in my car, although muffled, did produce a bit of a rumble. Eventually, I came to a sort of clearing and was able to pull the car off of the track and into the woods, but not before I determined that the thick carpet of pine needles would keep me from sinking into the soft sand. I spent a few minutes carefully maneuvering the car until it was pointed in the direction from which I‘d come—the thought of a quick getaway had flashed through my head a few times. “Okay, Nate, I‟m going to be on foot the rest of the way, and I have no idea how long it‟ll take me to get there.” “That‟s okay, I‟m not going anywhere.” “It‟s good that you can see humor in the situation.” “What else am I gonna do?” “True. By the way, can you tell me what these guys are driving?” “Yeah. Every time they take me to the latrine, I see the car—it‟s an older Jeep Cherokee, sort of a beige color.” “Good to know.” I concentrated on following the ruts of white sand that were sort of gleaming in the places where moonlight filtered through the trees, and tried not to think about things like critters in general and snakes and bears in particular. I almost walked right into the rear end of the Cherokee before I saw it, the SUV loomed out of the darkness so quickly. Then I stood quietly and listened for a moment before I extended my senses. Satisfied that I‘d pinpointed the locations of both

Nate and his captors, I bent down and used a very sharp knife to disable the rear tires of the Cherokee. I also took a picture of the license plate, hoping that the flash wouldn‘t be noticed. Then I quietly slipped around the two tents that were situated in front of the Jeep and made my way to the rear of the third tent, where I knew Nate to be. “I‟m gonna cut a hole in the back of the tent.” “Why not just come through the front flap?” “Because when these guys wake up in the morning, they won‟t notice a hole in the rear of the tent. It might buy us some extra time.” “Yeah.” I cut a sizeable opening in the back of the tent and crawled through it. Nate hadn‘t been kidding—he was lying on his side with his hands and feet tied behind him. Not only were his hands and feet securely tied, there was also a loop of rope from the bindings around his feet to those around his hands. The term ―hogtied‖ came instantly to mind. Taking what I deemed to be a calculated risk, I took a couple of quick photographs, again hoping that the flash wouldn‘t be noticed. My extrasensory abilities assured me that the bad guys were sound asleep, but you can‘t be too careful. Then I took my knife to Nate‘s bonds, and when he was free, I gave him the pair of sneakers I had purchased in Walmart, which he quickly pulled on. “Ready?” “Yeah. Let‟s get out of here.” “Okay, but let‟s do it very slowly and very quietly.” “Sure.” Taking Nate by the hand, I led him quickly around the tent. Then I stopped long enough to fish a couple of my purchases out of my backpack. “What are you doing?” “Remember the jars of honey I purchased in Walmart? You were watching me at the time.” “Yeah, and I asked you why, but you wouldn‟t tell me.” “We‟re gonna pour honey all over the entrance flaps of these tents.” “Why?”

“Who knows what it might attract in these woods? At the very least, the tents will be covered in ants by morning. If we‟re lucky, maybe a foraging black bear will pick up the scent.” “Clever.” In a couple of minutes, the door-flaps of both tents were saturated with honey, and I put the lids back on the empty jars and placed them back in my backpack. “Why not leave the jars behind?” “Fingerprints.” “Oh.” “Give me your hand again.” “Okay.” I led him past the Jeep and down the track quite a distance before I sent, “Nate, do you feel up to moving a little faster?” “I‟m not as stiff as I was, so I think so.” “Good, let‟s jog the rest of the way to my car.” Compared to my earlier rather slow walk, it took only a short time to reach my car, get in, and head for the highway. When we reached the blacktop, I stopped for a minute. ―Why did you stop?‖ Nate said. ―You have a nice voice.‖ ―So do you, but why did you stop?‖ ―We have a decision to make.‖ ―What?‖ ―Do we call the law, or not?‖ ―No, we don‘t.‖ ―If you want to prosecute, it‘ll be your word and my word against the world.‖ ―I just wanta get away right now, okay? Besides, how in the world would we explain how you found me?‖ ―You have a point, and it‘s one that had crossed my mind earlier. Okay, we‘ll haul ass back to my hotel.‖ ―Thank you.‖ ―For what?‖

―Everything.‖ ―You‘re welcome. Actually, it was my pleasure.‖ When we reached Silver Springs, something occurred to me. ―Nate,‖ I said. ―What?‖ ―That Walmart is open twenty-four/seven, and you‘re gonna need some clothes.‖ ―Can we do that later? Right now I just want to take a shower, shave off this annoying stubble, and go to sleep.‖ ―That‘s fine with me, if you don‘t mind sharing a king-size bed.‖ ―Actually, I‘m looking forward to it.‖ Well, I guess that settles that. “I heard that, you know.” “I sort of meant for you to hear it.” “You did?” “Nate, I‟ve been looking for someone like you for a very long time, so I‟m not about to let you get away. The fact that you‟re cute is merely frosting on the cake.”

Silver Springs, FL Wednesday morning—early

IN MY room, we took a long shower together. Then Nate borrowed my razor and made good use of it. Since it was only a couple of hours earlier than my normal time to shower and shave in the morning, I shaved also. Then we crawled naked into the king-size bed and lay belly to belly for a while, kissing and exploring. What followed was so astonishingly amazing that I can scarcely begin to describe it. Nate and I were in total rapport—I felt everything that he felt and vice-versa as we shifted positions and began to explore each other‘s bodies orally. Had we not both already been exhausted, I truly think we could have kept each other on the edge for hours. Instead, we finished each other off rather quickly, reversed positions so that we were once again belly to belly, and fell asleep in each other‘s arms. Several hours later, I was awaked by a knock on the door and a voice saying, ―Housekeeping.‖ I quickly extricated myself from Nate, jumped up, ran to the door, opened it a crack, and told them to come back later. Then I opened the door just enough to slip the ―Do Not Disturb‖ sign into place before closing it again. I went back to bed and snuggled up against Nate, who apparently hadn‘t been disturbed by the knock. I probed gently with my special senses and determined that he was indeed fast asleep, but as I lay there trying to go back to sleep, I began to reflect on what we had experienced a few hours earlier, as well as what it might mean for the future. The mental activity served only to render me wide awake, and I realized that I was hungry. It was too late for the free breakfast downstairs, so I quietly dressed, left a note on the nightstand for Nate,

and went in search of food. Before I‘d checked in the previous afternoon, I‘d done a bit of exploring and had located both a Burger King and a McDonald‘s on SR-40 west of the hotel, and I barely managed to make it to the latter before they stopped serving breakfast. On the way back to the hotel with two bags of food on the front seat of the car, I received a distress call. “Quentin! Where are you? I got up to go to the bathroom and you weren‟t in the room.” “I went to get us some breakfast—there‟s a note on the nightstand.” “Sorry, I didn‟t see it.” “I‟m only a couple of blocks away.” The minute I set the bags of food on the table in the room, Nate launched himself into my arms. ―I was so scared when I woke up and you were gone.‖ ―I‘m here now. Looks like my underwear fits you okay.‖ ―Yeah,‖ he said somewhat sheepishly. ―Hope you don‘t mind.‖ ―We talked about that on the way back from the forest last night, don‘t you remember?‖ ―Only vaguely. Oh, yes, now I do—sort of. We‘re pretty much the same size, aren‘t we?‖ ―Yep.‖ ―Quentin, what am I gonna do?‖ ―About?‖ ―Everything. I have no money and no place to go.‖ ―Sure you do, you‘re gonna go home with me.‖ ―With you?‖ ―Nate, as I told you earlier—I‘ve been looking for you all my life. So do you honestly think I‘m gonna let you out of my sight now that I‘ve found you? Especially after what we experienced together in that bed a few hours ago?‖ He giggled a bit. ―Yeah, it was truly awesome, wasn‘t it?‖ ―Absolutely. Now sit down and eat.‖ We sat quietly munching on our ―Big Breakfasts,‖ and I booted

my laptop while we ate. Once it had latched onto the hotel‘s wireless signal, I began to search. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―what‘s your home address?‖ He gave it to me and asked why I wanted to know. ―Move that chair around beside me and look at this,‖ I said. ―What am I looking at?‖ he said once we were side by side. ―The Orange County Property Appraiser‘s website. It looks like your house isn‘t owned by your mother and stepfather.‖ ―It isn‘t?‖ ―See for yourself—it‘s owned by some sort of trust for your late father. How long has he been dead?‖ ―Ten years. But what does this mean?‖ ―It means that as soon as I finish the job I came to this area to do, we‘re gonna go to Orlando.‖ ―I don‘t ever want to go back to Orlando.‖ ―That‘s understandable, but I want to take a look at the probate file in the Orange County Courthouse.‖ ―I don‘t understand.‖ ―I have a suspicious mind, and I find what I‘m looking at very odd. Most married couples buy a house in their joint names—more to the point, they buy a house as joint tenants with right of survivorship, which means that when one of them dies, the house goes to the other. If there are minor children, Florida‘s homestead law kicks in, but that‘s another story. So the question is, why wasn‘t the house in both names?‖ ―I have no idea.‖ ―Do you have any idea how long ago your father acquired the house?‖ ―As long ago as I can remember.‖ ―Okay, let me print out this record, then we‘ll look at some official records. Fortunately, the property appraiser‘s site has clickable links to property records.‖ ―I have no idea what you‘re talking about.‖ ―Don‘t worry about it, then. As an investigator, I have more than a passing acquaintance with searching public records.‖

It took a while, but I eventually found what I was looking for and said, ―Look at this. It looks like your grandfather gave the house to your father as a wedding present, but he put it in some sort of trust.‖ ―That‘s my paternal grandfather,‖ Nate said when he looked at the names on the document displayed on the screen. ―Is he alive or dead?‖ ―He and my grandmother were really old when I was born, and they‘ve both been dead for years.‖ ―Were you the only grandchild?‖ ―Yeah. I‘m an only child, and Dad didn‘t have any brothers or sisters.‖ ―I think we‘ll have a look at your grandparents‘ estates as well, while we‘re in Orlando. On second thought, maybe we won‘t have to go to Orlando—at least not right away.‖ ―Why not?‖ ―Watch and learn.‖ I opened a WordPerfect document and quickly typed a summary of everything I‘d just learned, including links to the documents. Then I wrote a lengthy note to Mitch, telling him about my rescue of Nate— amending it, of course, to hint that I had seen some suspicious guys in a Cherokee and had followed them. Document completed to my satisfaction, I opened my e-mail program, copied the document into a message, and clicked ―send.‖ ―Do you think he can do that?‖ Nate said. ―Do what?‖ ―Order copies of probate files from Orange County.‖ ―Probably—there has to be some sort of setup for that, otherwise lawyers would be wasting their very expensive time driving all over the state. I know for a fact that they can file lawsuits by mail, so why not this?‖ ―What do we do now?‖ ―Now we get dressed and go to the Marion County Courthouse, so I can accomplish the mission I was sent here to do. Unless, of course, you‘d like to test that bed again.‖ ―You mean…?‖

―It‘ll have to be a quickie, but yes.‖ Later, after we had showered and toweled ourselves dry, we discovered that my short-sleeved shirts and khaki pants fit Nate perfectly, as did my spare pair of deck shoes. ―Okay,‖ I said, as we admired ourselves in the mirror, ―let‘s go do the job I was hired to do.‖ We spent part of the afternoon in the courthouse; then we headed west toward I-75 on SR-200, which was known locally as College Road. Many of the chain restaurants in Ocala were clustered on that strip of highway, as were the Paddock Mall and Central Florida Community College, now Central Florida College, although they hadn‘t yet changed their sign. My immediate goal was Panera Bread, so we could have an early dinner and I could take advantage of their free wireless service. When our orders were placed and paid for, I left Nate in charge of getting our beverages while I found a booth and booted my laptop. ―Any news?‖ Nate asked as he set our drinks on the table before sliding into the booth. ―See for yourself.‖ I slid the laptop around so that he could read the e-mail from Mitch that I‘d received. ―Are you gonna do it?‖ he said. ―That‘s up to you to decide. Shall we go to Orlando from here, obtain the documents, and take them to Mitch, or shall we let your mother and stepfather stew about things for the two weeks it‘ll take for Mitch to get them through channels?‖ Before he could answer, the pager vibrated to let us know that our food was ready. ―I‘ll go get it,‖ he said. While he did that, I sent a quick reply to Mitch, saying that we would make a decision and let him know. I also let him know that I was in the middle of doing what he had sent me here to do, which was track down and interview missing heirs. Nate returned to the booth carrying our trays and sat down. ―I know what I need to do,‖ he said. ―What?‖

―As soon as we get back to the hotel, I‘m gonna call my grandparents—my maternal grandparents.‖ ―But….‖ ―Don‘t worry, they‘ve really been upset with Mom ever since she got involved in that crazy religion, and they can‘t stand my stepfather.‖ ―Where do they live?‖ ―Chattanooga.‖ ―Okay, then, that‘s what we‘ll do. By the way, what happened to your cell phone?‖ ―The bastards took it away from me so I couldn‘t call anybody.‖ ―I‘m surprised they left you with your wallet.‖ ―I was wearing cargo pants, and my wallet and keys were in the side pouches above my knees—I think they were in a hurry and missed them.‖ ―That makes sense. Listen, Nate, you need a new cell phone.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―I can get you added to my account.‖ ―You‘d do that for me?‖ ―Babe, consider what we‘ve shared—when we‘re in rapport, we see into the depths of each other‘s souls where nothing can be hidden. Did you sense me holding back anything?‖ ―That‘s true, and it‘s pretty wonderful.‖ ―So?‖ ―Okay. I can get a job for what‘s left of the summer, so I can pay you back.‖ ―Let‘s don‘t rush out and do that yet—I‘ve got a strong feeling about your father‘s estate and that trust.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―People don‘t set up trusts unless there‘s money involved.‖ ―You think?‖ ―I think.‖ I turned back to the laptop and located the nearest outlet of my cell phone company. ―We‘re in luck,‖ I said. ―They have a store on the street that runs behind the restaurant.‖

We finished our meal, and I found my way to the cell phone store with no difficulty. The back street ran past a couple of strip centers, which were themselves in front of a Walmart Supercenter. After a short wait, we obtained a cell phone for Nate; then we headed for the hotel. On the way back to Silver Springs, we drove past the downtown square, and Nate spotted the public art. ―Look at all of those life-sized horse statues,‖ he said. ―Aren‘t they neat?‖ ―Marion County considers itself to be the thoroughbred horse capital of the country, and those horses were part of a public art project a few years ago—there are over fifty of them scattered around the county. There‘s a poster in the lobby of the hotel with pictures of all of them.‖ ―Cool, and they look like they‘ve been painted by artists.‖ ―Yeah, that‘s what the poster said.‖ Back in our room, we settled down at the table, and Nate called his grandparents. At my suggestion, the phone was flat on the table and the speaker was on. We heard the usual ringing, then, ―Hello.‖ ―Hi, Granddad.‖ ―Nate! Are you all right?‖ ―Yes, Sir. Why don‘t you ask Grandma to get on the extension so I won‘t have to go through this twice?‖ ―Give me a minute.‖ Then we heard him holler, ―Nancy, Nate‘s on the phone. Pick it up.‖ There was a pause. Grandma: ―Nate, honey. How are you? Where are you? We‘ve been so worried. ‖ Nate: ―I‘m okay. Why would you think otherwise?‖ Granddad: ―Your mother told us you had left home and she didn‘t know where you were.‖ Nate: ―Granddad, I hate to be crude, but your daughter is a lying bitch.‖ Grandma: ―Nate! She‘s your mother.‖ Nate: ―Yeah, and she and Reggie had some people from their

church kidnap me.‖ Granddad: ―Surely not.‖ Nate: ―Granddad, they snatched me off a mall parking lot, shoved me in a van, and injected me with something.‖ Granddad: ―But why?‖ Nate: ―They took me to a remote spot in the Ocala National Forest—‖ Granddad: ―The what?‖ Nate: ―It‘s a huge national forest sixty or seventy miles northeast of Orlando. I was tied up hand and foot, and their job was to make me see the light.‖ Grandma: ―See the light?‖ Nate: ―Mom and Reggie and some of her co-religionists had decided that I‘m possessed by the devil. Their solution was to beat it out of me.‖ Granddad: ―If you were tied up hand and foot, how in the world did you get away?‖ Nate: ―I was rescued.‖ Granddad: ―Really?‖ Nate: ―Yeah, a private investigator from Jacksonville was in the area working on a case, saw something suspicious about the bad guys, and followed them. To make a long story short, he slipped into the campground in the middle of the night and rescued me.‖ Grandma: ―And you‘re sure that you‘re all right?‖ Nate: ―Yes, Ma‘am. I‘m fine, now that I‘m free.‖ Grandma: ―You never said where you are.‖ Nate: ―I‘m in the city of Ocala.‖ Granddad: ―Horse country.‖ Nate: ―Yeah. Listen, the detective who rescued me has already put me in touch with a lawyer in Jacksonville, and the lawyer needs some information, so I have some questions for you.‖ Granddad: ―Questions about what?‖ Nate: ―For one thing, why is our house in Orlando still in Dad‘s estate? We‘ve been checking the records online.‖

Granddad: ―That‘s easy. Your Grandfather Braddock had money, and he neither liked nor trusted your mother. As I understand it, the house was tied up in a trust for your father and his heirs.‖ Nate: ―Nobody ever told me that.‖ Granddad: ―I guess we always assumed that you knew.‖ Grandma: ―Nate, honey, as far as we know, that house is yours and yours alone, and has been ever since your father died—rest his soul.‖ Nate: ―Good, then maybe my new lawyer can evict Mom and Reggie.‖ Grandma: ―You‘d kick your own mother out on the street? Shame on you.‖ Nate: ―Why shouldn‘t I? She and Reggie saw fit to have me kidnapped and beaten. Anyhow, she‘s got a husband, and it‘s his responsibility to provide her with a place to live.‖ Granddad: ―I certainly can‘t argue with that.‖ Nate: ―Wait a minute, if there was money and a trust involved, shouldn‘t I have been getting some of it? I‘ve been an adult for five years now, and the only money I know about is the education savings account Dad set up in his name and mine.‖ Granddad: ―I was never privy to the details, but it wouldn‘t surprise me to learn that there‘s a lot of money involved.‖ Nate: ―I‘m gonna have a lot to tell that lawyer when I see him.‖ Grandma: ―Nate, honey, are you sure you‘re all right?‖ Nate: ―Yes, Ma‘am. I‘m fine, and now I‘m getting a little bit angry.‖ Granddad: ―Nate, do you need some cash?‖ Nate: ―I certainly wouldn‘t turn it down.‖ Granddad: ―Tell us where to mail it and we‘ll send you a check.‖ I had anticipated this and had written my address on a pad. Nate gave them the address and waited while they read it back to him. Grandma: ―So, you‘re staying with this detective?‖ Nate: ―Not yet, but I will be when we get to Jacksonville. He says he‘s got two spare bedrooms. As far as I‘m concerned, he saved my

life, and I feel safe with him around. By the way, and this is extremely important—please don‘t tell Mom or Reggie that you‘ve heard from me. I‘m going to let the lawyer handle that.‖ As soon as Nate ended the call, I sent an e-mail to Mitch asking for his advice; he replied a few minutes later. ―Look at this,‖ I said. ―Mitch thinks that we should go to Orlando tomorrow, just as soon as I‘ve interviewed the people I came to see.‖ ―Sounds like a plan.‖

Silver Springs, FL Thursday morning

WHEN we went downstairs for our free breakfast Thursday morning, the headline on a discarded copy of the local newspaper caught my eye. I skimmed the article and told Nate I was going to the front desk for a minute, I left and returned with two copies of the Ocala Star-Banner. ―Why did you buy two newspapers?‖ Nate said. ―Someone left one on the table already.‖ ―Look at this headline,‖ I said. ―‗Black bears maul two campers‘,‖ he read aloud. ―‗Two men were arrested for illegal possession of firearms in the Ocala National Forest after they shot and killed two black bears that they claimed had attacked them‘.‖ ―Isn‘t that interesting?‖ I said. ―It seems that they had carelessly spilled honey all over their tents, and the honey attracted the bears.‖ ―Yeah, and it couldn‘t have happened to two more deserving guys.‖ I put on a dress shirt and tie for my morning interview and was able to provide Nate with similar attire. It wasn‘t really a problem, given that I‘d been on the road for three weeks and had packed plenty of clothes—I hated using coin laundries on the road but had finally been forced to do so a few days earlier. We arrived at the home of Shirley Landers promptly at ten. Mrs. Landers turned out to be a typical little old lady, and she invited us into her modest home—but only after I presented my credentials. ―What‘s this about?‖ she asked when we were settled in the small but tidy living room. ―Do you remember getting a letter from a lawyer in Jacksonville a

few months ago?‖ ―Sort of. I probably threw it away, thinking it was some sort of scam.‖ ―Mrs. Landers, I‘m here to assure you that it is no scam—a distant cousin of yours died last year, and the lawyers are looking for her relatives because she had never had any children.‖ ―What was her name?‖ I told her. ―Never heard of her.‖ ―I‘m not surprised, given that she was a very distant cousin. The thing is, she died intestate; do you know what that means?‖ ―No will, right?‖ ―Yes, Ma‘am. To further complicate matters, she was an only child, so the lawyers had to go back a couple of generations to locate relatives. Take a look at this family tree and see if you recognize any names.‖ That was Nate‘s cue to hand her a document; she took it, studied it carefully, and said, ―My great-grandparents are on here.‖ ―Yes, Ma‘am. That‘s why you‘ve been contacted, and it‘s why I‘m going to ask you to pass the word along to your brother and sister.‖ ―How much money do you think we—that is, my brother and sister and I—will get?‖ ―Ma‘am, I have no idea. There are nearly a hundred heirs, and of course the lawyers will get paid. At this point, there‘s nothing to do but wait until the final distribution of the estate. All I know is that checks will be mailed to everyone when that happens.‖ ―This is kind of exciting; it‘s like winning the lottery.‖ ―Perhaps, but I wouldn‘t go out and buy anything until you have the money in hand.‖ ―Oh, my goodness, no. My late husband and I never spent a dime unless we were sure we could replace it quickly and easily.‖ ―Too bad more people aren‘t like that.‖ A few minutes later, we had her signature confirming that she was indeed an heir and her promise to obtain signatures from her siblings on the documents I left with her, along with postage-paid envelopes

addressed to Mitch‘s firm. ―That was kind of interesting,‖ Nate said when we were in the car. ―Yeah, and I‘ve spent three weeks driving from Pensacola to Naples and many points east, having conversations like that.‖ ―You travel a lot, don‘t you?‖ ―Yeah, but it‘s the unpredictability of it that bothers people.‖ ―Bothers people?‖ ―Boyfriends tend to get upset when I break dates to rush out of town on a case.‖ ―But it‘s your livelihood.‖ ―I hope you‘re that understanding the next time it happens.‖ ―Does that mean we‘re gonna be boyfriends?‖ ―God, I hope so.‖ ―Me too.‖ We checked out of the hotel, and two hours later we checked into a Hampton Inn on I-4 in Orlando.

Orlando, FL Thursday afternoon ―READY to go to the courthouse?‖ I said. ―Why now?‖ ―You read the e-mail from Mitch. We‘re gonna order a ton of copies of documents and may have to come back tomorrow to pick them up. If we wait until tomorrow to order them, we might be delayed another day.‖ ―What are we waiting for, then?‖ It took the rest of the day to examine the probate files of the two estates, as well as the file on the trust, and order copies. We were assured that we could pick them up Friday morning no earlier than ten. As we left the courthouse, I said, ―Nate, don‘t you have a car?‖

―Sure.‖ ―Is it in your name?‖ ―You bet. I worked my ass off to pay for it.‖ ―Where is it?‖ ―It should still be in the mall parking lot, if it hasn‘t been towed.‖ ―Do you have the keys?‖ ―Yeah, and even if I didn‘t, there‘s a hide-a-key.‖ ―Which mall?‖ ―The Florida Mall.‖ ―You‘re the local guy—navigate.‖ He directed me down Orange Avenue and instructed me to turn at a cross street that would lead us to the mall. Once in the mall parking lot, it took him a minute to get his bearings, but finally we found his car—an old Camry. ―That looks like some sort of warning sticker on the windshield,‖ I said. ―Yeah, I think they do that after so many days.‖ ―Before you crank it, let me check it over.‖ ―Why?‖ ―To make sure there are no unpleasant surprises waiting for you.‖ I retrieved a small electronic device from the toolbox in my trunk and went over the car carefully. When I was satisfied that there were no tracking devices affixed to the car, I said, ―Have a go at it.‖ He unlocked the car, slid behind the wheel, and the motor fired on the first try. ―Good,‖ I said. ―Let‘s let it idle for a minute or two. If we have dinner here, would you be likely to run into anybody you know, your mom, for example?‖ ―No. She doesn‘t like this mall—the Millennia Mall is her favorite.‖ ―Good, because a client told me that there‘s a California Pizza Kitchen here.‖ ―Yeah, it‘s on the other side of the mall.‖ ―Lead me there, and that‘s where we‘ll have our dinner.‖

―It‘s one of my favorites.‖

Orlando, FL Friday morning

WE ARRIVED at the courthouse promptly at ten and left with a huge bundle of printouts. ―I‘m sorry you had to pay so much for those copies,‖ Nate said when we were back in the car. ―I‘ll pay you back as soon as I can.‖ ―What‘s mine is yours, babe. Besides, Mitch will bill the estate for all expenses, including these copies.‖ ―Oh.‖ I checked us out of the motel, and we caravanned to Jacksonville as quickly as speed limits would allow. I led Nate straight downtown to the skyscraper containing Mitch‘s law firm, and we found adjacent spots in the parking garage. ―Is he gonna be able to see us?‖ Nate said. ―I called him when we were about forty miles out, and he‘s cleared the deck for us. Based on what we‘ve already told him, he‘ll have a couple of documents for you to sign.‖ ―Such as?‖ ―The stuff we talked about: a petition for a restraining order against your parents and the members of their church; petitions to the court for an accounting of all funds handled by the estates and the trust; and whatever else his clever mind can come up with. Mitch is very sharp.‖ We were ushered into Mitch‘s office without delay, and I introduced him to Nate and said, ―I think this is what you need,‖ as I placed the huge package of paperwork on his desk. ―Damn, Q,‖ Mitch said. ―Did you copy every page of every file?‖ ―Not quite every page, but I‘m not knowledgeable enough to determine what‘s important, so I tended to err on the side of caution. The bill is on top of the heap.‖

―It‘ll take me a while to go through all this, but you did good.‖ ―By the way,‖ I said, ―we retrieved Nate‘s car from the mall parking lot where he had left it before he was snatched.‖ ―Is the car in your name, Nate?‖ Mitch said. ―You bet. I bought it when I graduated from high school.‖ ―If you‘re going to change the address on the registration, I‘d suggest you use something other than Q‘s address.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Do you want the crazies tracking you down?‖ ―No, Sir. Can I use Quentin‘s PO box address?‖ ―Not after this year, because of a change in the registration laws. Give them this address.‖ He scribbled something on a card and handed it to Nate, who showed it to me. ―In care of you and the law firm?‖ I said. ―Sure,‖ Mitch said. ―He‘s a client now. It‘s perfectly legit.‖ ―Works for me,‖ I said. ―Can you explain to me in a few words what actions you‘re going to take?‖ Nate said. ―Absolutely,‖ Mitch said. ―You are petitioning the court for what is known as a Civil Harassment Restraining Order against your mother, your stepfather, and everybody in her church whose name you can remember. I‘ll try to include every member of the group without naming them, but the judge will probably require me to stick to members whose names you can provide. You are likewise petitioning the probate court for a complete accounting with respect to your father‘s estate and your grandfather‘s estate—your grandmother died before he did, and her estate went to him and we don‘t have to worry about that; ditto, the trust. The petition for a restraining order can by law be filed here in Duval County, and that‘s important, because it will save you a ton of fees. I think the petitions regarding the estates and the trust should begin with a request to have the cases transferred to Duval County, where you now reside. Have you decided to evict your parents from your house?‖ ―I‘m thinking about it, but it‘s hard.‖ ―What if they were compelled to pay rent?‖ I said. ―Preferably at

the market rate, perhaps even retroactively?‖ ―That‘s a very good idea,‖ Mitch said. ―Nate? It‘s up to you.‖ ―It sounds harsh,‖ Nate said. ―It‘s like a bargaining session,‖ Mitch said. ―Ask for more than you really want—that gives you some room to maneuver later.‖ ―Okay,‖ Nate said, ―let‘s do it.‖ Mitch took a long look at Nate and me and said, ―Rion will be happy to learn that our Q has finally found his man.‖ ―Does it show?‖ I said. ―Only to those of us who know and love you. Have you told your little playmate in Starke?‖ ―Mitch, as you well know, I‘ve been all over the state for the past three weeks on your behalf. That being said, I‘m gonna take Nate down to Starke in a couple of days, and we‘ll have dinner at Sonny‘s.‖ ―Good,‖ Mitch said. ―Best not to leave loose ends when it comes to these things. Remember what happened to me.‖ ―What happened to you?‖ Nate said. ―I‘ll tell you later,‖ I said. ―One thing you need to know about lawyers and CPAs—when they‘re sitting behind their desks talking to you, their meters are running. It‘s called billable hours.‖ ―I resemble that remark,‖ Mitch said, grinning. ―You have my preliminary report on the project I‘ve been working on for the last three weeks,‖ I said, ―and the final report will be on your desk Monday afternoon.‖ ―Great.‖ We cleared the downtown area just in time to beat the worst of the five o‘clock traffic. When we got to my house, I parked in the driveway and directed Nate into the garage. ―Where are you gonna park?‖ he said when he walked out of the garage. ―We can clear the junk out of the second bay first thing in the morning.‖ ―Okay.‖ Nate and I carried my bags into the house, and I gave him the

fifty-cent tour, which wound up in the master bedroom and in the master bed—big surprise. Afterward, when we were cuddling, we had an interesting exchange. “You haven‟t tried to fuck me, Quentin. Why not? I know you like to do it.” “Because I want our first time to be special.” “Special how?” “If we‟re gonna be in a committed relationship, I want us to get tested. Then the first time we have anal sex we won‟t need condoms.” “Oh, I like the sound of that.” “It‟s too late to go to the health department today, so how about Monday when I take my report to Mitch?” “Great. By the way, what was Mitch talking about when he said, „remember what happened to me‟?” “Mitch wasn‟t sure he was gay and had never actually done it with a guy. There was this psycho bitch he was dating at the time—of course, he didn‟t find out about the psycho-bitch part until later. He had just about stopped dating her when she went out of town on an extended business trip. That‟s when he decided to hit the bars and find out who he was.” “And?” “He had sex with several guys, including Rion, and loved it. When the psycho bitch came back to town, he tried to end the relationship, and she began to stalk him. Eventually, she tried to kill him.” “How?” “Stabbed him in the back a few times.” “Ouch.” “Ouch, indeed. The doctors told him one of the stab wounds came within a hair of his heart.” “So what happened to her?” “She‟s serving a life sentence with no chance of parole, I think.” “Good.” “Yeah.”

“So we‟re going to Starke?” “Yeah. I‟ll introduce you to Jethro.” “Is he gonna stalk you?” “I doubt it. I‟ve probed very deeply a few times, and he seems totally focused on getting an education and getting laid. If there‟s anything stronger there, he‟s managed to hide it very well.” Somebody‘s stomach indicated a need for food, so I said, ―I think it‘s time I introduced you to a Friday-night institution.‖ ―What‘s that?‖ ―The Pizza Italian at Five Points.‖ ―You‘re the tour guide.‖ ―So I am.‖ We took a quick shower, jumped in the pony car, and headed to Five Points. On the way to the restaurant, I gave Nate a synopsis of its history. ―It was started by a Greek immigrant named Gus back around 1976,‖ I said, ―and it‘s been a neighborhood institution ever since. Best meatball sub in town, best lasagna, and pretty good pizza.‖ ―Sounds good.‖ When Blanding Boulevard crossed US-17 and became Park Street, I told him about the Riverside and Avondale neighborhoods and the fact that many gays lived in those neighborhoods. ―Here we are,‖ I said, as I pulled into the only available parking spot on the street in front of the restaurant, after waiting a minute or two for its occupant to back out of it. ―You‘re right, it doesn‘t look like much from the outside.‖ ―Actually, it doesn‘t look like much on the inside, either, but the food is an entirely different story.‖ The first faces I saw when we entered the little restaurant were familiar ones—George, Mike, and their adopted son Robbie. Mike was facing the door and immediately waved us over. ―Hello, Q,‖ Mike said, ―why don‘t you join us?‖ ―Certainly. George, Mike, and, of course, Robbie, this is my friend Nate.‖ Hands were shaken, we sat down, and I said, ―Did you guys just

get here?‖ ―Two minutes ago,‖ George said. ―We haven‘t seen you around for a while—where have you been hiding?‖ ―All over Florida,‖ I said, and I gave them a brief account of my travels. ―Small wonder you don‘t have a boyfriend,‖ Mike said. ―Who could put up with that kind of schedule in a partner?‖ ―I intend to,‖ Nate said. “Well said, Nate.” “Thanks.” ―When did this happen?‖ George said. ―And why didn‘t we know about it?‖ ―Tuesday night in the Ocala National Forest, when I rescued Nate from kidnappers,‖ I said. ―Holy moley,‖ Mike said. ―I sense one heck of a story.‖ ―You have no idea.‖ Nate and I took turns telling the story of his kidnapping and rescue, sticking to the now-established (in our minds) story that I‘d merely stumbled upon the kidnappers. ―And you didn‘t do anything about the kidnappers?‖ George said. ―I wanted to, but Nate just wanted to get away. I have a pretty good picture of the license tag of their Cherokee and a couple of shots showing Nate as I found him—bound and gagged.‖ ―Will you take a suggestion?‖ ―Sure, George.‖ ―Report it to the FBI and ask them to create a file.‖ ―What good would that do?‖ ―Perhaps nothing today, but there‘s no statute of limitations on kidnapping, and an outstanding case file might give you leverage elsewhere.‖ ―Sounds good to me. Nate?‖ ―Sure, but how do we do that?‖ ―The SAC—that‘s Special Agent in Charge—of the Jacksonville office is a buddy of mine,‖ George said. ―I‘ll put you in touch with him

first thing Monday. If nothing else, a case file will create ammunition. Those crazies have probably done this before, and will again.‖ ―Yes, they have,‖ Nate said. ―I always refused to get involved in that cult, but living in that house, I couldn‘t help but be aware of things.‖ ―Are you really gonna evict your mom and stepfather?‖ Mike said. ―Don‘t you think they deserve it?‖ Nate said. ―Yes.‖ ―He‘s hoping that the threat of eviction will prompt them to pay rent, both current and retroactive.‖ ―That makes sense.‖ Robbie, who had sat quietly and somewhat wide-eyed during the telling of the story, said, ―The bad guys really tied you up and everything?‖ ―You bet they did,‖ Nate said, ―and Quentin has the pictures to prove it.‖ Robbie, who was sitting beside Mike and facing the door, said, ―Look, it‘s Uncle Mitch and Uncle Rion.‖ The new arrivals sat down at an adjacent table, and I introduced Nate to Rion. ―So you‘re the one,‖ Rion said as he shook Nate‘s hand. ―The one what?‖ Nate said. ―The one who‘s got Mitch‘s curiosity so fired up that he brought home a huge stack of documents. If I know him, he‘ll closet himself in our library all day tomorrow.‖ ―Sorry,‖ Nate said. ―I didn‘t ask him to do that.‖ ―No, you didn‘t,‖ Mitch said, ―but when I learn that people are being cheated, I tend to get a bit worked up.‖ On the way home, Nate said, ―I really like your friends.‖ ―Yeah, they‘re a nice bunch of guys, and they‘re our friends now.‖ ―You think?‖ ―Absolutely.‖

When I passed the house and kept on going down Blanding Boulevard, Nate said, ―Where are we going now?‖ ―Post office. Time to retrieve a three-week accumulation of mail.‖ I asked Nate to accompany me inside the post office so I could show him where the box was located. ―There‘s a spare key in my desk,‖ I said. ―I‘ll find it for you tomorrow.‖ ―There‘s nothing in the box but a key on a tag,‖ Nate said when I opened it. ―That‘s because three weeks of mail overflowed it. There‘ll be a bundle of mail in one of the package lockers.‖ There was, indeed, a huge bundle of mail in the locker, including a Priority Mail Flat Rate Envelope. ―What‘s this?‖ I said when I saw the envelope. It was on top of the bundle, so I took a closer look and added, ―Way to go, Granddad.‖ ―What?‖ ―Your grandfather decided to invest five bucks to get you a check in a hurry.‖ ―Yeah, but tomorrow is Saturday, so it won‘t do a lot of good.‖ ―Not to worry—my bank is open Saturday morning, and you can open an account.‖ ―I have a bank account, but it‘s a local Orlando bank.‖ ―Then my banker will be happy to open an account for you and arrange to transfer your balance.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning

NATE was a swimmer and I had a spare pair of Speedos, so he went to the Y with me early Saturday morning. After we swam laps and were settled in the steam room, I heaved a sigh. ―What‘s that for?‖ he said. ―Relief. I didn‘t manage to swim very often on that trip, and it‘s almost like starting over again from scratch.‖ ―Surely it‘s not that bad.‖ ―Okay, so I‘m exaggerating a little.‖ George and Mike entered the locker room while we were getting dressed. ―You guys are here early for a Saturday,‖ Mike said. ―I had to hit the ground running this morning,‖ I said. ―After being out of town for three weeks, I‘ve got a lot of catch-up to do.‖ ―Have fun,‖ George said. ―Oh, we will,‖ Nate said. Nate and I had a busy morning, and by the time the bank was open, we had cleaned out the second bay of the garage so that both cars could be accommodated. We took a quick shower after that and went to the bank so Nate could transact his business and I could deposit a couple of checks that had landed in the mail during my absence. While we were there, we also opened a joint account. When we got home, Nate followed me to the office and asked what he could do to help, so I handed him a yellow pad and a pen. ―What‘s this for?‖ he said. ―You can go back to the house and survey the kitchen. Make a list of what we need—I threw out everything that was perishable before I

left town. Be sure to include things that you like.‖ ―I‘ll need you in the kitchen with me if I‘m gonna make a shopping list.‖ “No, you won‟t.” “Yeah. It‟s so neat being able to communicate like this, isn‟t it?” “True, now go—feel free to communicate as needed.” Most of the mail in the huge bundle was, as expected, junk mail, and there weren‘t any bills to worry about because I pay them online when traveling. Around ten thirty, Nate came into the office, tossed the yellow pad on my desk, sat in my lap, and put his arms around my neck. ―I‘m done, how about you?‖ ―Surprisingly enough, yes.‖ ―There‘s an empty bed at the house, let‘s go over there and render it non-empty.‖ ―Want to hear what I‘ve just learned first?‖ ―Will it keep?‖ ―Yeah.‖ An hour later I said, ―It just keeps getting better and better, doesn‘t it?‖ ―Words hardly seem adequate to describe what we just did.‖ My cell phone rang. ―Hi, Q,‖ Mitch said when I picked up the call. ―What‘s up, Mitch?‖ ―Are you guys busy?‖ ―Not at the moment, why?‖ ―Why don‘t you come over to the house and have lunch with us?‖ ―Sure, what‘s the occasion?‖ ―I‘ve got a little show and tell regarding Nate‘s situation.‖ ―Actually, so do I.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yep. Been doing a little research.‖ ―Bring it with you, then. Do you know where we live?‖

―Now that you mention it, no.‖ He gave me an address on Hedrick Street and told me to either park on the street or drive around behind the house, saying, ―There‘s a tenant in the garage apartment who may need to use the driveway.‖ ―What was that about?‖ Nate said. ―Weren‘t you listening?‖ ―Only to your side of the conversation.‖ ―You could have tuned in mentally.‖ ―Yeah, but I didn‘t want to pry.‖ ―Babe, we need to set some ground rules about privacy.‖ ―And they would be?‖ ―That there aren‘t any ground rules. We have no secrets from each other—how could we, after what we‘ve shared? As far as I‘m concerned, you can dip into my brain anytime you like.‖ ―Ditto. Now what was that call about?‖ I told him, and he said, ―I guess we‘d better get dressed, then.‖ ―Unfortunately.‖ We dressed and headed for the garage, although I made a quick detour to my office to retrieve some printouts from the printer. Hedrick Street was in Avondale and ran parallel to St. Johns Avenue but was two blocks closer to the river. ―This is it,‖ I said when I found the correct house number. ―The one with the columns in front?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Impressive.‖ ―That it is. Remember, Rion started his own real estate brokerage firm while he was still in college, and Mitch is a partner in a huge law firm.‖ ―Yeah.‖ I parked on the street as instructed, and we walked onto the wide verandah and rang the doorbell. ―Come on in, guys,‖ Rion said when he opened the door. ―We‘re back in the breakfast room.‖ We followed him through formal living and dining rooms and

into a large kitchen with a long center island. At the far end of the kitchen was a smaller area containing a fair-sized round table, which was centered in a deep bay window. I could see a back porch and brick patio outside the windows. Mitch was sitting at the table with a laptop in front of him, and the laptop was surrounded by stacks of documents. ―Somebody‘s hard at work,‖ I said. ―You‘ve got that right,‖ Mitch said. ―Hi, guys. I really get mad when parents cheat their children, and it has been happening on a major scale with Nate‘s family. I moved my work from our library because I needed more room to spread out.‖ ―Why don‘t we eat lunch?‖ Rion said. ―While we‘re eating, you can give them the short version.‖ ―That makes sense,‖ Mitch said, and he got up from the table. ―I have a sort of buffet set up on the kitchen island,‖ Rion said. ―Nothing fancy—just Caesar salads and some grilled chicken breasts. Feel free to mix and match them in any combination you like.‖ ―A nice healthy lunch sounds good,‖ I said, ―especially since we‘re going to Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q this evening.‖ Mitch led us to the island, and I piled a large plate high with salad, topping it off with slices of chicken breast; Nate did the same. By the time we were settled at the round table, Rion had set glasses of iced tea at each place, along with a slice of garlic toast on a small side plate. ―Wine doesn‘t go all that well with salad,‖ he said, ―and this is a working lunch, after all.‖ ―Don‘t worry about it,‖ I said. ―Tea is great.‖ After we had been eating for a few minutes, Mitch began, saying, ―I‘ve skimmed through the high points of your father‘s estate, Nate, along with your grandparents‘ estates and the trust documents. The bottom line is this: you‘re a rich young man.‖ ―Really?‖ Nate said. ―Absolutely, and the worst of it is that the assets of the trust should have been turned over to you on your twenty-first birthday.‖ ―You mentioned cheating,‖ I said. ―Yes, and that‘s the really disgusting part. Nate, I hate to have to tell you this, but your mother and your stepfather have been stealing

your assets for years. The original trustee moved away two or three years after your father died, and your mother somehow managed to get herself appointed as trustee in his place. It looks like that‘s when the thefts began, but it‘ll take a while to sort things out.‖ Nate started to say something, but I stopped him. ―I think that‘s where my little show and tell comes into play,‖ I said. ―Nate says that his stepfather has a well-paying job as a middlelevel administrator with the Orange County School Board, and his mother has worked full time since he graduated from high school.‖ ―So?‖ Mitch said. ―Since we now know that they‘ve been living in Mitch‘s house rent-free for years, I began to wonder what they did with their money, so I did some digging.‖ ―Let me guess,‖ Mitch said. ―They were investing it, right?‖ ―They own real estate all over the place, and my guess is that they used a ton of Nate‘s money to do it. I haven‘t had time to look at the surrounding counties yet, but I brought printouts with me showing what I found in Orange County.‖ ―Damn,‖ Mitch said, ―what‘s wrong with parents that causes them to cheat their children?‖ ―In this case,‖ Nate said, ―one word applies: religion. Mom and Reggie belong to a really bizarre cult, and those cults are all about control. The cults control the members, and the members try to control their families. Not only that, the members are encouraged to distance themselves from family members who don‘t belong to the cult. In a nutshell, that‘s what got me kidnapped in the first place. When I turned eighteen, I put my foot down and refused to go to church with them— I‘m really surprised it took them so long to try to have me reprogrammed. I know several kids who mysteriously disappeared, only to return later with a total change of attitude.‖ ―We‘re gonna have fun with this one,‖ Mitch said. ―Fun?‖ Nate said. ―Nate, the subject matter may be deadly serious—tragic, even— but it‘s always fun to nail the bad guys and sort of hang them out to dry. In our demand for an accounting, we‘ll ask for a full investigation

of your mother and stepfather‘s finances as part of the process.‖ ―Won‘t that be expensive?‖ ―When we win, and we will win, the judge will order them to pay court costs and attorney fees.‖ ―Sounds good to me,‖ I said, ―as long as they don‘t use Nate‘s money to do it.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―it does. Did you say rich? I can hardly believe it.‖ ―I said rich,‖ Mitch said, ―but at this point I don‘t know how rich. If I had to guess, I‘d say at least seven figures—the house alone is valued on the tax rolls at half a million, and there‘s no mortgage.‖ ―There isn‘t?‖ Nate said. ―No.‖ ―That bastard.‖ ―What bastard?‖ I said. ―Reggie—my stepfather—is always complaining about mortgage payments.‖ ―Nate,‖ Mitch said, ―he may well have complained about mortgage payments, but they weren‘t on your house.‖ ―All I can say,‖ Nate said, ―is let‘s nail his worthless hide to the wall.‖ ―And if your mother gets caught with him?‖ Mitch said. ―She made her bed.‖ ―Mitch,‖ I said, ―we need your advice in a related area.‖ ―What?‖ ―We need to take my utility trailer to Orlando and remove Nate‘s personal belongings from that house. Any suggestions?‖ ―Yes. I‘ll file the petition for a restraining order Monday, which means that the summons will probably be served on Tuesday or Wednesday. Perhaps you should make that trip Monday before the shit hits the fan. And you definitely need to have someone from the Orlando Police Department with you.‖ ―I don‘t have any contacts in that department,‖ I said. ―Perhaps not, but someone whom we all know and love just

happens to know someone down there.‖ ―George?‖ ―Absolutely. I happen to know that he has a close working relationship with a lieutenant in the Orlando Police Department—big black guy named Clarence Ivory.‖ ―I‘ll give George a call. The principal question is, what do we say to Nate‘s parents when we get there?‖ ―You don‘t have to say anything—after all, it‘s his house. At this point, the less you say the better, because you don‘t want to give away any of your strategy.‖ ―We can do that,‖ I said. ―Can‘t we, Nate?‖ ―You bet. Can I at least mention the restraining order?‖ ―Yes,‖ Mitch said. ―That‘ll give the cop with you an opening to warn them off—and it will give them something to worry about. If they ask you any questions, refer them to me for answers—I‘ll give you a few of my cards. By the way, Nate, if they‘re at work when you get there, do you have a key to the house?‖ ―Yes, I do.‖ ―And if they‘ve changed the locks for some reason?‖ I said. ―It‘s Nate‘s house—no reason why he can‘t break a window to get in.‖ We spent another hour visiting with Rion and Mitch before we went home. When we got there, I took Nate into the den I‘d created from a former bedroom. ―There should be room in here for your desk, your computer, and any books you have,‖ I said. ―Yeah, more than enough. I‘m still a little overwhelmed that you‘re doing all of this for me.‖ ―Are we gonna go through that again?‖ ―Sorry—you know where I spent the last ten years, but maybe you don‘t really understand what it was like in that house in Orlando.‖ ―Babe, that‘s in the past now.‖ ―Yeah. What‘s next on our agenda?‖ ―Where‘s that shopping list? I think a trip to Publix is in order.‖

We went to Publix and worked our way through the list, adding an impulse purchase here and there. It was kind of fun shopping together and then putting things away in the kitchen when we got home—I said as much when we were doing so. ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―I guess this is what they call domesticity.‖ ―Works for me. When we‘re done, want to try the hot tub?‖ ―You bet.‖ We spent quite a while relaxing in the hot tub, cooling down, and being generally silly at times. Needless to say, it was fun. We wound up in bed later, after which I called Sonny‘s in Starke to confirm that Jethro was working so we wouldn‘t waste two hours going there and back for nothing.

Starke, FL Saturday evening

WE ARRIVED at Sonny‘s Bar-B-Q Restaurant in downtown Starke a little after six, and when I asked the hostess to seat us in Jethro‘s section, she led us to the same booth I‘d occupied when I first met him. When he arrived to wait on us, he actually did a classic double take. ―Quentin,‖ he said, ―what are you doing in Starke? I haven‘t seen you in ages.‖ ―That‘s because I just spent three weeks on the road, and I came to Starke to introduce you to my friend Nate. Jethro, Nate. Nate, this is Jethro.‖ ―Good to meet you, Jethro,‖ Nate said, as they shook hands. ―Quentin has told me all about you.‖ ―He has?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―And you guys drove down here just so I could meet you?‖ ―Pretty much.‖ ―Does that mean that you and Nate are…?‖ ―A couple?‖ I said, lowering my voice. ―Yes, we are.‖

―That‘s so cool,‖ Jethro said. ―Good for you, and guess what, Quentin? You were right.‖ ―I was right about what?‖ ―You said I would find someone to car pool with when I started school in Gainesville, and I have—it‘s all arranged.‖ ―Cool,‖ I said in a half-whisper. ―Are you also saying that you have a new playmate?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―That‘s great, but remember what happened with Donny.‖ ―Oh, yeah, I‘m not about to forget that—not for one minute. Listen, this is kind of a busy time, what can I get for you guys?‖ We placed our orders, and he left to turn them in. “That went well.” “Yeah.” “Remember, I told you that Jethro was focused on school and sex.” “So you did.” Jethro was too busy to spend a lot of time talking to us, but we managed to have two or three short conversations with him before we left the restaurant. ―What‘s your friend‘s name, Jethro?‖ I said. ―Todd.‖ ―Well, then, I‘ll have to invite both of you to Jacksonville next time I have a hot tub party.‖ ―Thanks, we‘d like that. Got any idea when?‖ ―Probably not until October when it‘s cooler.‖ ―I‘ll look forward to it.‖ ―Good to meet you, Jethro,‖ Nate said. ―Likewise,‖ Jethro said. And that was it—I‘d been right all along concerning the extent to which Jethro might or might not have become dependent on me. When we got home, I suggested to Nate that he might want to call his grandparents to let them know he was okay. ―Yeah,‖ he said, ―and I need to thank them for that check.‖

―That too.‖ ―Should I tell them about the legal stuff?‖ ―I don‘t think so—your mother might talk to them, and something might slip out.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Jacksonville, FL Sunday morning

WE WENT to the Y Sunday morning and swam laps; then I took Nate to the Derby House in Five Points for breakfast, where we ran into some of the gang. This time it was Carl and Jim who were already present and having breakfast, and they invited us to join them. While we were eating, Nate said, ―What‘s on our agenda today?‖ ―Well,‖ I said, ―after breakfast, I want to go to church—that‘s why I insisted on wearing long pants and a nice shirt when we got dressed earlier.‖ ―Quentin, after all the problems I‘ve had with my mom and her cult, I‘m not sure I can do that.‖ ―Babe, I‘m not talking about a freaking cult. We have a lot to be thankful for, and the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd is just down the street.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Carl said, ―their organist and choirmaster and his partner are our landlords, and they are a great couple. You know them, don‘t you, Q?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―The organist of that church is gay?‖ Nate said. ―Does anybody in the congregation know?‖ ―Nate,‖ Carl said, ―it‘s obvious that you don‘t know anything about the Episcopal Church. Tom is the organist/choirmaster, and his partner Noah is the star bass/baritone soloist in the choir. A blind friend of ours, who is also gay, is their tenor soloist. I think it‘s fair to say that most members of the congregation are aware of that fact.‖

―Yeah,‖ Jim said. ―Episcopal churches are very accepting of gays.‖ ―I can‘t believe it,‖ Nate said. ―Just wait,‖ I said. ―When we shake Father Cullen‘s hand after the service, I‘ll introduce you as my partner, and he‘ll probably say something like, ‗It‘s about time you settled down with someone‘.‖ ―This, I gotta see.‖ ―Tell you what,‖ Carl said, ―Jim and I will go with you—we‘ve been kind of lax lately.‖ About ten minutes before the ten o‘clock service began, the four of us settled down in a pew about halfway down the aisle. “What do you think?” “Well, it certainly looks like a church should look. It‟s nothing at all like the dump that Mom‟s cult calls a church.” “I think you‟ll like the music.” “I hope so.” A few minutes before the hour, Tom began the prelude, which I recognized as Bach without even looking at the bulletin in my lap. Then we stood for the processional hymn, and I watched Nate‘s reactions out of the corner of one eye. Clearly the music resembled nothing he‘d ever experienced. Nor, for that matter, did the procession. “Carl and Jim weren‟t kidding, were they? One of the choir members really is blind—he‟s using a cane.” “Amazing, isn‟t it?” “Yeah. I wonder how he knows when he gets to the steps?” “I think I‟ve seen the man next to him touch his arm to warn him, but I can‟t be sure.” “I‟ll keep my eyes open.” “When it‟s time to go to the altar for communion, just follow my lead.” “But I‟m not a member.” “The Episcopal Church has what is known as an open table—all baptized Christians are welcome.” “Oh.”

“Trust me, babe, and follow my lead.” Nate followed my lead during communion, and after the service we joined the line waiting to say hello to Father Cullen. Finally, it was our turn, and when Father Cullen saw me, he said, ―Quentin, we haven‘t seen you in a while, and who‘s this with you?‖ ―Sorry,‖ I said, ―I‘ve been out of town for three solid weeks. This is my partner, Nate Braddock. Nate, this is Father Cullen, one of the really good guys.‖ ―Well, well,‖ Father Cullen said, ―it‘s about time you settled down with someone—good for you. Don‘t be a stranger, Nate.‖ Nate‘s jaw sort of dropped at that, and I saw the surprise on Father Cullen‘s face, so I leaned forward and said very softly, ―Nate‘s mother belongs to a really nasty little fundamentalist cult, and he‘s a little shocked at your acceptance of who he is.‖ ―Nate,‖ Father Cullen said, ―as someone once said, ‗You are as God created you, so who am I to question His handiwork‘?‖ ―Thank you,‖ Nate stammered. I took him by the arm and led him to the car. ―What did I tell you?‖ ―I‘m astonished,‖ he said. ―Were you impressed enough to go next Sunday?‖ ―You bet.‖ Before we retired for the evening, we had a lengthy discussion concerning whether or not my little utility trailer would hold the contents of his room. In the end, I took a look at the weather report for Monday and decided that the forecast of rain dictated that we rent a covered U-Haul trailer instead of using my open trailer.

Jacksonville, FL Monday morning

I

DELIVERED the final copy of my report to Mitch on Monday

morning, along with an invoice for services rendered, and we picked up some necessary documents from him, including the summons regarding the restraining order. Since we were going to Orlando anyway, a great deal of time could be saved if we hand-carried the paperwork to the clerk‘s office. ―Will they take a check from me? I paid for all those copies with a credit card.‖ ―They‘ll take a check from this law firm without question,‖ Mitch said. ―Great.‖

Orlando, FL Monday—noon

WHEN we arrived at the Orange County Courthouse in downtown Orlando, I got out of the car, and Nate slipped behind the wheel. The plan was for him to circle the block a few times, come back, and pick me up—parking while pulling a five-by-eight covered trailer was a little too complicated. We‘d rented the five-by-eight trailer because a smaller trailer hadn‘t been available—unless we wanted to drive across Jacksonville to another U-Haul outlet. Business completed, I made contact. “Ready when you are,” I sent.

“What took you so long?” “Remember I had to file paperwork in both the probate office and the clerk of the court‟s office, and there was a line in both places.” “Sorry, I guess I‟m getting nervous.” He pulled up to the curb a few minutes after I walked out of the courthouse and onto the sidewalk. ―What now?‖ he said, once I was in the car. ―You know the plan. I‘m gonna call Lieutenant Ivory and tell him where we are. George said that the lieutenant would be waiting for my call.‖ ―Do it.‖ I called the lieutenant, who agreed to meet us at Nate‘s house in precisely thirty minutes. ―Okay, babe,‖ I said. ―He‘ll be at your house in thirty minutes.‖ ―I know, I was listening in.‖ ―Good for you.‖ Lieutenant Ivory was a good as his word—he was in a police cruiser parked in front of the house when we got there. I spent a few minutes backing the trailer into the driveway, and then Nate and I went to talk to the lieutenant, who was, as George had said, big and black. He also sounded a bit like James Earl Jones when he spoke. Nate and I introduced ourselves, and I handed the lieutenant the documents Mitch had given me. ―Nate‘s lawyer said you might want these, Lieutenant,‖ I said. ―They are copies of the deed to the house and the trust document which establish that the house rightfully belongs to Nate, and nobody else. The trust document clearly states that the property should have been turned over to him two years ago on his twenty-first birthday. In that bundle are copies of the petition that was filed earlier today in Duval County, asking for a restraining order against Nate‘s mother, his stepfather, and certain members of their religious cult who were involved in kidnapping him.‖ ―I‘m sorry you have to go through all this, Mr. Braddock,‖ Lieutenant Ivory said. ―As I understand it, all you want to do today is retrieve the contents of your room?‖

―Yes, Sir,‖ Nate said. ―I want my clothes, my desk, my computer, and some other items, all of which should be in my room.‖ ―Do you think your parents are home?‖ ―Probably not—they both work. On the other hand, we have one or two nosy neighbors who may well call them at work, so who knows?‖ ―Well, Sir, that‘s what I‘m here for.‖ ―And we can‘t thank you enough,‖ I said. ―Thank George when you see him, he set this up.‖ ―I see him almost every morning at the Y, and I‘ll certainly do just that. Nate, are you ready to unlock the door?‖ ―Yeah.‖ He selected a key from his key ring, unlocked the front door, and led me to his room. ―Where do we start?‖ he said. ―Biggest stuff first, and that would be the desk, I think.‖ We started carrying things out to the trailer and made short work of clearing out his room. ―Anything else in the house that‘s yours, personally?‖ ―Yeah, shaving gear and stuff in my bathroom.‖ We put all of his personal toiletries into a pair of small boxes and carried them to the door. As we were stowing them in the trailer, a car screeched to a halt in front of the house and a middle-aged couple got out of it and headed in our direction. Nate‘s mother was a little overweight and clearly hadn‘t smiled in a very long time; his stepfather was skinny as a rail and equally unsmiling. ―What‘s going on here?‖ Mr. Nelson practically shouted. ―Nate, honey,‖ Mrs. Nelson said, ―where have you been? We‘ve been so worried.‖ Lieutenant Ivory stepped in front of the couple, raised his hand, and said, ―Are you Mr. and Mrs. Nelson?‖ ―Yes, we are,‖ Mr. Nelson said somewhat testily. ―It is my duty to inform you that Nathan Braddock Jr. has filed a petition with the court requesting that a restraining order be issued against you and certain members of your church. Please do not come

any closer than you already are.‖ ―Restraining order?‖ Mrs. Nelson said. ―Why?‖ ―Why?‖ Nate said in a calm voice that was laced with sarcasm. ―Why? You know very well why—because some members of that nasty cult you belong to kidnapped me from the parking lot of the Florida Mall, Saturday a week ago, when I was on the way to work, and held me prisoner while they started to beat the so-called ‗devil‘ out of me and reprogram me. That‘s why—as if you didn‘t know.‖ ―We knew nothing about that,‖ she said. Mr. Nelson put his arm around his wife‘s shoulders, but he had the presence of mind to keep his mouth shut. I probed his mind, encountered a seething cauldron of hate, and quickly withdrew. ―Please, Mom. No more lies. If you have a story, you can tell it in court. By the way, I‘ve just found out that this house actually belongs to me, but you never bothered to tell me that, did you? I wonder why?‖ She started to say something, but he held up a hand and said, ―Don‘t bother, Mom. If you have anything to say, you can say it at the hearing.‖ ―What hearing?‖ she said. ―You‘ll be served with a summons today or tomorrow,‖ I said. ―It will all be in the paperwork.‖ ―Who are you?‖ she said. ―Who am I? You may well ask. I‘m your worst nightmare, in the flesh—I‘m your son‘s boyfriend.‖ ―I don‘t believe you,‖ she said ―Yeah, Mom,‖ Nate said. ―It‘s true. Remember my friend Tommy Barker? He moved to California when I started high school, but until he moved away, every time we slept over at each other‘s houses, we spent all night sucking each other‘s dicks.‖ He grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth by way of emphasis. I had expected a reaction from his mother, but not the one we got. The woman sank to her knees and began to babble and pray somewhat hysterically. ―Come on, babe,‖ I said. ―Let‘s get out of here before things get even more disgusting.‖

―Right behind you,‖ he said. ―Lieutenant Ivory,‖ I said, ―are you headed back downtown from here?‖ ―Yes, Sir.‖ ―Could I ask you to follow us to I-4, just in case these people decide to try something?‖ ―It would be my pleasure, and again, give my regards to George.‖ ―Thanks, and I will.‖ Lieutenant Ivory followed us not only to I-4, but all the way up I4 until we reached the downtown area. Then he flashed his lights, waved, and left the expressway. ―Well,‖ I said, ―that‘s one problem solved.‖ ―Yeah, I just wish this car had a bench seat instead of buckets.‖ ―Why?‖ ―So I could snuggle up against you, fool.‖ ―Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn‘t it?‖

Jacksonville, FL Monday afternoon—late

WHEN we got to the house, we unloaded the contents of the trailer and stored them in the second garage bay. ―We can carry them inside the house at our leisure,‖ I said. ―The pony car won‘t mind being outside for a day or two.‖ ―Okay.‖ We closed the garage doors, got in the car, and prepared to return the trailer to U-Haul. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―is there any chance your mother will call your grandparents and tell them about today‘s events?‖ ―That‘s hard to say, why?‖ ―Maybe you ought to give them a call and tell them what you did?‖ ―Do you think so?‖

―Babe, you know them, I don‘t. On the other hand, if your mother calls them and spouts a lot of lies, you‘ll immediately be put on the defensive.‖ ―Yeah, and the best defense is a good offense.‖ ―Exactly. Are they churchgoers?‖ ―Yeah, they‘re Methodists, why?‖ ―Try this on for size: ‗Guess what, Grandma? My friend Quentin took me to an Episcopal church Sunday morning, and I liked it‘.‖ ―Geez, you‘re smart. That sounds like a very good way to open the conversation.‖ ―I‘m just more experienced at dealing with people than you are. Are you gonna tell them about the little bombshell I dropped on your mom?‖ ―Why not? Might as well get everything out in the open. But don‘t you think they deserve the courtesy of telling them that in person?‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense.‖ After we returned the trailer, I headed for the expressway and the other side of town. ―Where are we going?‖ Nate said. ―Springfield.‖ ―What‘s that?‖ ―Old neighborhood just to the north of downtown. A lot of houses were built there right after the great fire of 1901 destroyed most of downtown. Nowadays, it‘s an area in transition—you‘ll see beautifully restored homes next door to crack houses.‖ ―Okay, let me rephrase the question. Why are we going to Springfield?‖ ―Because that‘s where the health department is located.‖ ―Why didn‘t you say so?‖ ―Why didn‘t you just tune in?‖ ―Because I like talking to you, and I like the sound of your voice.‖ There wasn‘t much of a line, and we were in and out of the health

department fairly quickly. Then Nate said, ―Where to now?‖ ―You need to start thinking about transferring from the University of Central Florida to the University of North Florida,‖ I said, ―so I‘m gonna show you how to find the campus.‖ ―Great. I‘d almost forgotten about graduate school.‖ We drove south on I-95 to Turner Butler Boulevard, followed it to St. John‘s Bluff Road, and I said, ―The entrance to the university campus is just up the road.‖ ―It‘s a long way from the house, isn‘t it?‖ ―Yeah, but it‘s either interstate or limited-access highway most of the way, so as long as you don‘t have to go to and from the campus during rush hour, you won‘t have any problems.‖ I circled slowly around the perimeter drive, pointing out those buildings with which I was familiar. ―What do you think?‖ I said ―The campus looks nice,‖ he said. ―As soon as I get my computer set up, I‘ll get online and see what I need to do.‖ ―There you go.‖ I looked at the dashboard clock. ―We‘re gonna hit downtown during rush hour, so I think we‘ll take I-295.‖ ―You‘re the driver.‖ ―You bet.‖ When we got back to I-95, I went in the opposite direction from downtown, following it all the way to I-295. ―It‘s a straight shot across the river to Orange Park from here,‖ I said, ―and we‘ll take the Blanding Boulevard exit when we get there.‖ While we were on the two-mile-long Buckman Bridge across the river, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the display, pushed the button, and said, ―Hi, Mitch.‖ ―Q,‖ he said, ―where are you?‖ ―We‘re on the Buckman Bridge, heading toward Blanding Boulevard and then home.‖ ―Good. When you get there, you‘ll find a fax from me waiting for you.‖ ―And?‖

―It‘s this estate case, and it‘s urgent. Three more heirs have turned up in Atlanta, of all places. The final hearing is next week, and we don‘t have time to contact them by mail.‖ ―I guess that means I‘ll be heading for Atlanta.‖ ―Bingo. Can you leave in the morning?‖ ―Nate and I have an appointment with the FBI at eight, but we‘ll have the car packed so we can be on the road as soon as we‘re done with them.‖ ―It‘ll be good for you to have someone along for the trip.‖ ―Yeah, and since Chattanooga is only a hundred miles up I-75 from Atlanta, we‘ll probably pay his maternal grandparents a visit before we come home.‖ ―As long as you do what we‘re paying you to do and e-mail me a report, knock yourself out. How did it go in Orlando?‖ I gave him a blow-by-blow account of our morning in Orlando. ―As you know, the petition for the restraining order was filed first thing this morning,‖ Mitch said, ―and the other parties should be served with summonses by tomorrow or Wednesday.‖ ―Thank you, Mitch.‖ ―Did you follow all of that?‖ I asked Nate after I closed the phone. ―I guess I‘m gonna get to see my grandparents a lot sooner than I thought,‖ Nate said. ―Yep, and the best part of it is that Mitch‘s law firm will be paying for much of the trip.‖ ―Can‘t argue with that.‖

Jacksonville, FL Tuesday morning

NATE and I put our bags in the trunk of the car before we went to the Y the next morning. We swam laps, picked up breakfast at a drivethrough, and arrived at the local office of the FBI on time for our eight

o‘clock appointment. After a short wait, we were ushered into the office of Nick Metaxas, the local SAC. He was as George had described him—quintessentially Greek—and he didn‘t waste a lot of time on preliminaries ―My friend George says that you gentlemen have an interesting tale to tell,‖ he said, ―so let‘s get to it.‖ He placed a recorder on the surface of his desk and looked at us expectantly. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―this begins with you, so why don‘t you take the story from the beginning?‖ ―I can do that.‖ He started with his father‘s death and segued into his mother‘s remarriage and her increasing involvement with first one cult and then another; from there he talked about the increasing suspicion and tension in his house and being snatched from the parking lot of the Florida Mall. ―So,‖ he said finally, ―I had been bound hand and foot and gagged in that tent for three days, when I heard something. I didn‘t know what it was at first, but it turned out to be this guy slicing through the back wall of the tent with a knife.‖ ―How did you happen to do that, Mr. Quasar?‖ Metaxas said. ―I had been on the road for three weeks at the time,‖ I said, ―tracking down a bunch of heirs for a local law firm. I started in Pensacola, worked my way down the west coast to Naples, then up through the state to Orlando and on to Ormond Beach. My last stop was to be Marion County, so I took SR-40 from Ormond Beach to Silver Springs.‖ ―Why not Ocala?‖ Metaxas said. ―The woman for whom I was looking had a post office box address in Salt Springs. It‘s surrounded by the Ocala National Forest, and the closest hotels were in Silver Springs.‖ ―Go on, please.‖ ―Anyhow, it was close to six when I got to Silver Springs, so I stopped at a restaurant to get something to eat before I checked into a hotel—I had reservations at a nearby Holiday Inn Express. I was sitting in a booth, looking at some of the paperwork involved with the case,

when I picked up on a conversation in the next booth. I didn‘t catch much of it, but what I did hear caught my attention. I heard the voices of two men talking. One of them said something like, ‗We need to get back‘, and the other one answered, ‗Why? The kid‘s all tied up, so he‘s not going anywhere‘. The other guy said, ‗But what if somebody finds the tents?‘ and the other guy replied, ‗Won‘t happen, our campsite is too isolated for that‘. ―Needless to say, that exchange grabbed my attention, so when they left, I tossed some cash on the table to pay my check, and I followed them. In fact, I followed them east on SR-40 until they turned north onto a secondary road. The sign indicated that it went to Salt Springs. Quite a few miles down that road, they turned off onto a dirt track that led into the national forest.‖ ―What did you do then?‖ Metaxas said. ―I hid the car in the woods and followed the track on foot. By the time I stumbled on their campsite, it was almost dark. I watched them settle down for the night, and I left.‖ ―Why didn‘t you go to the authorities?‖ ―What would I have told them—that I thought some kid was being held prisoner? They wouldn‘t have taken me seriously. In any case, I‘m sort of used to being the Lone Ranger, so I checked into my hotel and changed into clothes that were more appropriate for crawling around the woods at night. Then I went to Walmart—there was one practically next door to the hotel—and bought a couple of flashlights and some other stuff. I already had a backpack in the car. ―By the time I got back to that track leading into the woods, it was after eleven, so I felt safe driving down it for a short distance until I found a spot where I could turn the car around. Then I backed it into the woods in case I needed to make a quick getaway. After that I hiked to the campsite, and from the rather loud snores coming from the tents, I figured everyone was asleep. I slipped around behind the third tent, cut a hole in the back wall, and rescued Nate. Here‘s a picture I took of the license tag on their car right after I slashed the rear tires, and the other picture is of Nate—as I found him. I led him back to my car, and we hauled ass. Nate—it‘s your turn.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said. ―When we got to the highway, Quentin said

we needed to call the authorities, but that would have involved waiting out there in the middle of nowhere, and I just wanted to get away, so I said no. He took me back to his hotel, and that was it.‖ ―You forgot the honey,‖ I said. ―Oh, yeah. After I was untied and out of the tent, Quentin pulled a couple of jars of honey out of his backpack, and we poured them all over the entrance flaps to the bad guys‘ tents.‖ ―Why would you do that?‖ Metaxas said. ―Because I was hoping that something like this would happen,‖ I said, and handed him the newspaper article. ―And these are the two men?‖ he said when he‘d read the article. ―They‘re the ones I saw in the restaurant, and that Cherokee looks like their car.‖ ―That was very resourceful of you, Mr. Quasar.‖ ―Call me Quentin, please, and I wasn‘t an Eagle Scout for nothing.‖ ―I just thought of something,‖ Nate said. ―What?‖ ―They took my cell phone away from me. If, as the article says, they were arrested for having unlicensed guns in the National Forest and shooting a couple of bears, wouldn‘t their belongings have been confiscated?‖ ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―and maybe your cell phone was in their possession. Even if it was returned to them when they got out of jail, there‘ll be a record of it somewhere. Give Mr. Metaxas the number.‖ Nate did as I requested. ―I almost forgot, babe—you need to tell Mr. Metaxas about the other kids in that cult who disappeared for a while.‖ ―‗Babe‘?‖ Metaxas parroted. ―In the fairy tales, when a knight in shining armor rescues a fair maiden, they fall in love. In this case, the knight rescued a comely youth and they became a couple.‖ ―You could call it a real-life fairy tale,‖ Nate said, barely suppressing a giggle. ―Anyhow, Mom made me get involved in her cult until I rebelled when I turned eighteen. I can give you the names of half

a dozen or so teenagers that mysteriously disappeared for a while. Most of them were very subdued when they came back home, but a couple of them were really pissed off and angry. I think they eventually ran away from home.‖ ―I‘d like those names,‖ Metaxas said. Nate recited the names of the kids and their parents, as best as he could remember them, and Metaxas asked us both a ton of questions. ―Okay,‖ he finally said, ―I think that will do it for now.‖ ―What do you think will happen?‖ I said. ―To be honest, Quentin,‖ he said, ―investigating cases like this has to be authorized at a much higher pay grade than mine, and I have to tell you that such decisions are often made with politics in mind.‖ ―George said you were a straight shooter, and I appreciate it.‖ ―He said correctly, and I often get in trouble because of it.‖ ―Okay, then,‖ I said, ―we‘ll leave it in your capable hands. Right now, we‘ve got to head for Atlanta and talk to yet another missing heir for an attorney client of mine.‖ ―I‘ve got your contact information, and I‘ll keep you posted,‖ Metaxas said.

Valdosta, GA Tuesday—noon

FROM the FBI office, I drove straight to the expressway. Once we were on I-10 and later I-75, we made good time, and two hours later we stopped for lunch in Valdosta. I was yawning when we left the restaurant, so I asked Nate if he wanted to drive. ―Sure. How fast can I go?‖ ―That depends upon how many fines you can afford to pay and how much damage you want to do to your auto insurance premiums when you rack up points on your license.‖ ―Spoilsport.‖ ―I‘m serious. Someone told me that the Georgia legislature passed a law that automatically gives you five-miles-per-hour leeway, but I also know that a lot of local jurisdictions are hurting for money and trolling the interstates for victims.‖ ―Okay, I‘ll set the cruise for two miles above the posted limit.‖ ―Are you really a speed demon?‖ ―No, but I‘ve always wanted to cut loose in a car like this one.‖ ―Wait ‘til we get home—I know plenty of back roads where you can do just that.‖ ―Promise?‖ ―You bet.‖ ―Okay, then, I‘ll be good.‖ As soon as we were underway, I managed to doze off, and I didn‘t wake up until I felt the car coming to a halt. I said, somewhat groggily, ―What‘s happening?‖

―We‘re on the bypass around Macon, and we need to make a pit stop.‖ ―For you or the car?‖ ―Both.‖ ―Yeah, now that I think about it, I could use a pit stop myself.‖ Bladders relieved and gas tank filled, we got back on the road, this time with me at the wheel. ―So,‖ I said, ―how did you like driving the pony car?‖ ―It was great. I‘m gonna hate my poor old Camry when I get back in it. You sure slept soundly.‖ ―That I did, and that‘s something I‘m almost never able to do— that is, sleep when someone else is driving.‖ ―I guess that means you trust me.‖ ―Yeah.‖ We hit the outskirts of Atlanta at the beginning of rush hour, but it wasn‘t a problem because I got into the HOV lane near the airport, and we were on the north side of Atlanta twenty-five minutes later. Driving through downtown Atlanta during rush hour at sixty plus— how cool is that? I was going as fast as I dared, and people were coming up behind me and trying to make me go even faster. Once we were well north of I-285, we checked into a motel. We were both hungry, so we went in search of food before we settled in for the night. Mitch‘s fax had listed not one but three people to locate and interview. He had been able to provide me with addresses and telephone numbers, so it wasn‘t necessary to do any courthouse research. On the other side of the coin, the three people I had to see lived in widely separated areas of suburban Atlanta. It took the better part of two days to locate their residences and, more importantly, catch them when they were home. Before we left Atlanta late Thursday afternoon, I stopped by an Office Depot and faxed all of the documents to Mitch, along with a cover sheet telling him that a full report would follow by e-mail.

Chattanooga, TN Thursday evening

WE

ARRIVED in Chattanooga early Thursday evening, stopped at a restaurant to eat, and selected a motel that wasn‘t too far from Nate‘s grandparents‘ condo. We were both in a somewhat excited state because while we were on the road, we‘d gotten messages to call the health department in Jacksonville. When we returned the calls, the news was good, so before we went to bed, we actually tossed a coin to decide who fucked whom first, and Nate won the toss. When we were finally naked in bed together, we kissed, fondled, and licked our way around each other‘s bodies until we were both highly aroused. Then I settled back on the bed, spread my legs, and bent my knees a bit in order to allow Nate easy access. We were in total rapport when he inserted a lubricated finger into my anus, and he felt me shiver at the intrusion. His finger instinctively went to my prostate, and I gave a little moan of pleasure. “Do that again, and again, and again, please.” “Happy to oblige.” The probing finger became very active for a bit. “Ready for a second finger?” “Need you ask?” “Sorry.” In rapid succession he inserted two fingers, then three, and when he sensed that I was ready, he replaced his fingers with something much firmer. When he hit bottom, I managed a little sigh of contentment. “Feels good, doesn‟t it?” “You know it does, now get busy with that thing.” “Yes, Sir.” He began to thrust in and out, and after a minute or two, he bent down to take my erection in his mouth. ―Don‘t,‖ I said. ―I‘m too close to the edge, and I want to save it until I‘m inside of you.‖

―Okay.‖ His pace increased, and when his orgasm came, I actually felt it from his viewpoint. ―That,‖ I said a couple of minutes later, ―was truly amazing.‖ ―No kidding? Now, it‘s your turn, or perhaps my turn, from another point of view.‖ ―Yeah.‖ When it was over, we retired to the bathroom and spent a long soapy time under the warm spray. It was a little too early for sleep, so we settled down in comfortable chairs with the remains of a bottle of Shiraz that I‘d purchased the day before in Atlanta. I spent some time with my laptop, putting the finishing touches on my report for Mitch; then I sent it to him as an e-mail attachment, advising him that the original would be in his hands first thing Monday. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―I forgot to ask you about your research into UNF. Did you finish it?‖ ―Oh, yeah. They offer everything I need, and since I was already accepted at UCF, enrollment will only be a formality. I‘m just glad that I hadn‘t written any checks to UCF—getting a refund would probably take awhile.‖ ―Good thing your dad set up an education savings account in your name—separate and apart from everything else—isn‘t it?‖ ―For sure.‖ ―What about all the other stuff you needed to do? We‘ve been so much on the go that I haven‘t paid proper attention.‖ ―All of my address changes are done—my credit card and auto insurance were the only ones that mattered. Next week, before I go out to UNF in person, I‘ll take care of changes to my driver‘s license and vehicle registrations.‖ ―Do you want to spend all day Friday and Saturday with your grandparents?‖ ―It would be nice, but what are you gonna do except sit around being bored?‖ ―I‘m kind of a Civil War buff, and the Chickamauga Battlefield is a major attraction right next door to Chattanooga.‖

―Go for it.‖ ―Do your grandparents have a car?‖ ―Last I heard they did. Why?‖ ―Because we talked about taking them out to dinner, and the pony car won‘t fit two elderly adults comfortably in the backseat, even if they are flexible enough to get in it. If they didn‘t have something like a four-door sedan, I was gonna suggest that we rent one.‖ ―That‘s sweet of you, but I think they have an older Crown Victoria or maybe a Grand Marquis, something like that.‖ ―There you go.‖ ―What are we gonna do in the morning? I don‘t think we should get there too early.‖ ―Play tourist, of course. We can visit the Chattanooga Choo Choo, among other things.‖ ―Cool, we can have lunch somewhere and visit my grandparents afterward.‖ ―That sounds like a plan.‖ Later, when the lights were out and we were snuggling in bed, Nate said, ―I have a confession to make.‖ ―They say confession is good for the soul.‖ ―I‘m serious.‖ ―Okay.‖ ―I think what we did earlier was wonderful, but I think I sorta like to sixty-nine better.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Mainly because we‘re doing the same thing and we‘re both, well, active, for want of a better word. And given our special skills, we always explode at the same time.‖ ―Whereas anal is basically one person doing most of the work, right?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―No argument there. Still, variety is the spice of life, and we can do other things once in a while, right?‖ ―That‘s true. I‘m glad you understand.‖

Chattanooga, TN Friday morning

WE

SLEPT a bit late Friday morning, took advantage of the free breakfast in the hotel, and headed for the Chattanooga Choo Choo complex, where we spent an hour or so. Then we drove to the historic downtown area and had lunch in a quaint restaurant. We made a brief pit stop at our hotel after lunch, then headed for Nate‘s grandparents‘ condo, which was located in a high-rise building near downtown and the river. Nate had called them while we were having lunch, so they were waiting for us when we arrived at their door. Mrs. Wilson opened the door and said, ―Nate, honey, it‘s been too long. Come on in.‖ Once we were inside, she hugged him and led us to the living room, where her husband was sitting beside a plate-glass window with a spectacular view of the Tennessee River. Introductions were made, and we settled down to chat. Robert and Nancy Wilson were in their early seventies, whitehaired and rail-thin. They apologized that their two-bedroom unit had so little room for overnight guests, given that the smaller of the two bedrooms was equipped as a den rather than a bedroom. ―Don‘t worry about it, Grandma,‖ Nate said. ―We‘ve got a nice hotel room down on the interstate.‖ ―And this is the man who saved you from the kidnappers?‖ she said. ―Yes, Ma‘am. I don‘t know what bad things would have happened to me if Quentin hadn‘t come along when he did.‖ ―Quasar is a very unusual name,‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―Is it real?‖ ―Yes, Sir. I was always sort of embarrassed by the name I was born with, so when I became an adult, I had it legally changed. As I tell people, it‘s the name that appears on my college diploma and my professional licenses, and it‘s very real.‖ ―How bad could your birth name have been?‖ he said. ―Would you like to go through life being known as Quentin Q.

Quattlebaum?‖ I said. ―Point taken,‖ he said. ―What does the middle initial stand for?‖ ―Sorry, but I‘ve never told that to a living soul.‖ ―Tell us how you found our grandson,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―Why don‘t you start the story, Nate?‖ I said. ―Just like we did with the FBI the other day.‖ ―The FBI is involved?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―‗Involved‘ may be too strong a word,‖ I said. ―Captain Martin with the Jacksonville Sheriff‘s Office is a good friend of mine, and he said that we ought to at least ask the FBI to create a case file on the kidnapping, especially given that these same people have kidnapped others. The Special Agent in Charge of the Jacksonville FBI office was very straightforward with us—he said that any decision to pursue a case like this would have to come from higher-ups in the bureau, and they nearly always looked at things from a political viewpoint.‖ ―Bastards,‖ Mr. Wilson said, sort of under his breath. ―I can‘t argue with that,‖ I said. ―Nate, you have the floor.‖ Nate and I had by now recounted the story so often that we had the purely fictional parts of it down pat. His grandparents sat in their chairs hanging onto every word, and I wondered how dull their lives must be in retirement. He went into some detail concerning the fact that his mother and stepfather had probably pulled tens of thousands of dollars out of his trust fund. ―Are you sure?‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―I just can‘t believe that my daughter would be involved with something like that.‖ ―Grandma,‖ Nate said, ―Mom may be totally under Reggie‘s thumb or she may not—there‘s no way to tell for certain. In any case, all of the real estate we‘ve located in various counties has been in both of their names. She‘s so screwed up with that religion that she can‘t think straight. One of the lawsuits I‘ve filed demands an accounting of all expenses going back to the time my dad died.‖ ―All that litigation is going to be expensive, isn‘t it?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―The attorney says that when we win, the judge will require Mom and Reggie to pay court costs and attorney fees.‖

―He sounds awfully sure of himself.‖ ―He says it‘s an open-and-shut case. The fact that nobody told me the house was mine, combined with the fact that the trust wasn‘t turned over to me when I became twenty-one, doesn‘t give them any wiggle room at all. They may even have had a crooked attorney involved—it‘s gonna take time to get it all sorted out.‖ ―I wish we‘d known about that,‖ Mrs. Wilson said, ―but after your mother remarried, she pretty much shut us out of her life.‖ ―That‘s the cult again,‖ Nate said. ―With those groups it‘s all about control, and they encourage their members to cut family members loose unless they‘re in the cult too.‖ ―So,‖ Mr. Wilson said, ―how long can you stay and visit?‖ ―We have to head back to Jacksonville Saturday afternoon,‖ Nate said. ―Quentin has a business to run, and I‘ve got to go out to the University of North Florida and get enrolled in graduate school.‖ ―So you can spend most of tomorrow with us?‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―Yes, Ma‘am. Quentin‘s gonna go see the Chickamauga battlefield site while I visit.‖ That statement prompted Mr. Wilson to launch into a discussion of the Civil War in general and the local battlefield in particular. During a lull in the conversation, Mrs. Wilson said, ―I hope you boys can stay to dinner.‖ ―Actually, Grandma,‖ Nate said, ―we‘re planning to take you guys out to a nice restaurant, but I won‘t turn down lunch tomorrow.‖ ―What do you say, Nancy?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―You‘ve been bellyaching lately about not going out enough.‖ ―Okay.‖ ―We‘ll have to use your car, though,‖ Nate said. ―We‘re in Quentin‘s Mustang, and it doesn‘t hold four adults very comfortably.‖ ―That‘s not a problem,‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―The poor old thing doesn‘t get driven enough as it is.‖ The conversation ranged over a number of topics right up until it was time to go do dinner. ―Grandma?‖ Nathan said. ―Do you have a favorite restaurant— one that you don‘t go to very often?‖

―Yes, I do,‖ she said. ―There‘s a place down at the Chattanooga Choo Choo complex called ‗Dinner in the Diner‘ where you have dinner in an actual railroad dining car.‖ ―Sounds good to me,‖ I said. ―Reservations are required,‖ Mr. Wilson said, ―and they‘re usually very busy.‖ ―Let me make a call,‖ I said, already dialing information. ―We‘re in luck,‖ I said a few minutes later when I closed the phone. ―They had a cancellation for six o‘clock, and it‘s ours.‖ When the time came, we took the elevator down to the parking garage, and Mr. Wilson handed his car keys to Nate and said, ―Let‘s see how good a driver you are, boy.‖ ―Okay.‖ Our route from the underground garage to the street took us by the visitor‘s parking lot, and Mr. Wilson spotted the Mustang and said, ―That your Mustang, Quentin?‖ ―Yes, Sir.‖ ―It looks somewhat the worse for wear.‖ ―That‘s deliberate,‖ I said. ―In my work, I frequently have to follow people, and I find that it helps to blend in. I‘m sort of averagelooking, and so is my car. On the other hand, looks can be deceiving— there‘s an almost new and finely tuned Interceptor engine under that hood.‖ ―I remember muscle cars,‖ he said. ―Had one once. Those were the days.‖ ―This was a good choice,‖ I said sometime later when we were sitting at our table. ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―it‘s kind of neat.‖ ―Have either of you boys ever taken a long train trip and actually eaten in a dining car?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―No, Sir,‖ I said. Nate shook his head. ―It‘s the only civilized way to travel,‖ he said. ―You must try it sometime.‖

―Nate, sweetie,‖ Mrs. Wilson said, ―I still don‘t quite understand why your mother thought you were possessed by the devil, or whatever it was she claimed.‖ ―It was because I said things every once in a while.‖ ―What kind of things?‖ ―She claimed that I often said things that I couldn‘t possibly have known unless some sort of demonic influence was involved.‖ ―It sounds as though you might be a bit psychic.‖ ―Psychic? I don‘t think so. Why would you say that?‖ “Careful, babe—you‟re skating close to thin ice.” “I know, and I will be.” ―Because my Aunt Agnes always claimed to be psychic, and she definitely knew things that couldn‘t be explained. She also claimed to be a mind reader. Said it was a family trait that popped up every few generations.‖ ―Really? What happened to her?‖ ―The crazy old bat eventually got locked up in the loony bin,‖ Mr. Wilson said, ―and stayed there until the day she died.‖ ―Wow! Did Mom know her?‖ ―No,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―She died long before your mother was born. But now that I think about it, my mother was always kind of afraid of Aunt Agnes, and she may have filled your mother‘s head with a lot of nonsense.‖ Mercifully, this potentially dangerous conversation was interrupted by the arrival of our food, and we went on to other topics. When we were eating our dessert, Mrs. Wilson popped the truly loaded question. ―Nate,‖ she said, ―I keep forgetting to ask about where you‘re living. How do you like Jacksonville?‖ ―I like it fine,‖ he said. ―Is the house big?‖ ―It‘s just an average three-bedroom house,‖ he said. ―The former carport has been turned into a garage, and there‘s a huge master suite upstairs over it.‖ ―Do you like your room?‖ ―Actually, I share the master suite with Quentin.‖

―You do? Why would you do that with all that room?‖ ―Because I‘m gay, and Quentin and I are a couple.‖ ―Oh… oh, my….‖ ―Well,‖ Mr. Wilson said, ―I guess it does run in families.‖ ―Excuse me?‖ Nate said. ―Nate, did you ever meet my older brother, Lawrence?‖ he said. ―If I did, I don‘t remember it, why?‖ ―Because he has a thirty-year-old grandson who is gay. He and his friend are both lawyers down in Atlanta.‖ ―Grandma,‖ Nate said, ―you don‘t seem very upset by this.‖ ―Nate, don‘t confuse me with your mother. There are two or three gay couples who go to our church, and they‘re all very nice people. You just took me by surprise.‖ ―I‘m having a hard time adjusting to the fact that some churches don‘t have a problem with gays,‖ Nate said. ―When Quentin introduced me to Father Cullen after church Sunday, he said something like, ‗It‘s about time you settled down with someone‘.‖ ―Does your mother know about this?‖ she said. ―She does. In fact, she got hysterical when I told her. When we drove off, she was on her knees babbling and praying.‖ ―Your stepfather has a lot to answer for,‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―And that cult,‖ Nate said. We said goodnight to the Wilsons in the parking garage of their building. They went to the elevators, and we went straight to the visitor‘s parking lot. ―Well,‖ Nate said in the car, ―that went well, didn‘t it?‖ ―Yep. I was sort of tuned into your grandmother when you sprang your surprise on her, and she truly isn‘t harboring any bad thoughts about you at all.‖ ―What about Granddad?‖ ―He seemed to be totally indifferent to it.‖ ―Talk about contrasts in attitudes.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Chattanooga, TN Saturday morning

NATE and I spent a pleasant hour in bed Saturday morning before we showered, dressed, and went downstairs to breakfast. I dropped him off at his grandparents‘ condo a little before nine and headed for the battlefield. By noon I had pretty much seen my fill of monuments, Civil War cannons on display, and other artifacts, so I returned to the car and drove back to the condo, where Mrs. Wilson had promised to have lunch ready at twelve thirty. She was as good as her word, and she actually served lunch on their small balcony so we could take full measure of the wonderful view from a tenth-floor vantage point. An hour later, as we were preparing to leave, Mrs. Wilson said, ―We‘ve really enjoyed seeing you boys, even if it was such a brief visit.‖ ―I know, Grandma,‖ Nate said. ―I‘ve missed you guys over the last few years, and I promise you I‘ll be back. However, if we‘re going to hit the ground running Monday morning, there‘s a lot to be done—I haven‘t even made a dent in the huge pile of my stuff that‘s taking up part of the garage.‖ ―Do you plan to drive straight through?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―Yes, Sir,‖ I said. ―It‘s only a little over four hundred and fifty miles—if we don‘t make too many pit stops, we‘ll be home well before midnight.‖ After another round of goodbyes, we took the elevator to the ground floor and went out to where the car was waiting. Since we‘d already checked out of the hotel, there was nothing to do but head south.

Jacksonville, FL Sunday morning

WE

SLEPT too late Sunday morning to make it to the Y before

breakfast, but we did make it to church, after which we went over to The Loop for lunch on the deck, and for once I didn‘t run into anyone I knew. On the way home I picked up the mail, and when we got there, I went straight to my office while Nate began to tackle the job of organizing his belongings. I spent a very productive afternoon, and my zeal to catch up kept me going until four, when every report was complete; I even brought my accounting records up to date. During the time I spent at my desk, Nate and I had kept in touch at a very low level, so I was aware that he, too, had made progress. My work complete, I closed up the office, went back to the house, and found Nate still in the garage. ―Are you done?‖ I said, looking at the pile of debris remaining on the garage floor. ―All I need are a few garbage bags.‖ ―I‘ll get them.‖ We made short order of bagging all of the stuff he had decided not to keep—there had been no time in Orlando for such decisionmaking. Then we spent some time relaxing in the hot tub, discovering in the process that there are a number of interesting—and enjoyable— things two naked men can do while sitting side by side and up to their chests in hot water. The days began to fly past us in a whirl. Nate enrolled in his graduate program at UNF, I handled a number of small- to mediumsized assignments, and before we knew it, the time came to appear in court with regard to the restraining order. Nate and I had expected that

his mother and stepfather would at least appear in court, but they didn‘t, nor did the members of their cult. The judge asked Nate a few questions, banged his gavel, said, ―So ordered,‖ and that was that. On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson had tried—and failed— to keep the estate and trust cases in the Orange County courts. Nate had quickly been granted full control of the house as well as the funds remaining in the trust, but the process of accounting for all monies spent over the life of the trust would take months. After much agonizing, he had also decided to evict his mother and stepfather from the house rather than have any further dealings with them. ―It‘s gonna be a long battle,‖ I said, ―but I think you‘re doing the right thing.‖ ―Yeah, I know. I just had to get past feeling sorry for Mom, and that took awhile.‖ ―Once they‘re out of the house, are you going to sell it or rent it?‖ ―I think I want to be shed of it totally.‖ ―May I make a suggestion?‖ ―You know you can.‖ ―Let‘s have a talk with Rion about it—he‘s a successful Realtor, and he‘s bound to have some ideas.‖ ―Yeah, let‘s.‖ ―There‘s something else we need to talk about, babe,‖ I said. ―What?‖ ―When you start driving out to UNF every day, you need to be more careful than you were in that mall parking lot. I think you should lower your shields when you‘re alone like that, so you can pick up any undue interest in yourself.‖ ―Point taken.‖ ―Come to think of it, if you‘d been more aware of what your parents were up to…. Belay that, I‘ve seen your stepfather‘s mind, and it wasn‘t a pretty sight.‖ ―You‘ve got that right. Okay, every time I‘m alone, especially in parking lots, I‘ll expand my senses.‖ ―Good.‖ A few days after the fall term began, we went to Rion‘s office to

discuss the house in Orlando with him. ―And you‘re absolutely certain you don‘t want to hang onto it and rent it out?‖ Rion asked Nate. ―Yes. I just want to be shed of it—too many memories there, most of them not good. What do you suggest?‖ ―If you sell it outright, there will be tax consequences, so I suggest that we first try to put together some sort of tax-free exchange.‖ ―What does that mean?‖ Nate said. ―We find somebody who has some property of a similar kind and value and swap properties with them. If the two properties are close enough in value, the tax consequences should be minimal.‖ ―Is that easy to do?‖ ―It‘s done all of the time, but it will take a lot longer to arrange than an outright sale.‖ ―Sounds good,‖ I said, ―but what does Nate do in the meantime?‖ ―As soon as the house is vacant, clean, paint, and repair it as needed, and rent it out on a month-to-month basis. In other words, generate some cash flow while you‘re trying to set up an exchange.‖ ―If repairs are necessary,‖ I said, ―I just happen to have most of the necessary skills.‖ ―There you go, and once it‘s ready for occupancy, I can recommend a firm in Orlando who‘ll handle the rental for you.‖ ―Sounds good to me. Nate?‖ ―Yeah, let‘s do it.‖ ―By the way, Q,‖ Rion said, ―didn‘t you mention another hot tub party in the future?‖ ―I sure did, and I think we‘re getting close to the right time of the year.‖ ―Good, and don‘t forget—this time the rest of us are gonna provide the food and booze.‖ ―Count on it.‖ As the month of September wore on, we got an additional bit of good news—Nick Metaxas called Nate to let him know that the FBI was actively investigating the cult and had tracked down some of the

teens, now adults, whom Nate had named as having been reprogrammed. Two of them were more than willing to testify in open court concerning their experiences. Also, Nate‘s cell phone had been found in the possession of the two men who had been mauled by the bears. Nate and I hosted a hot tub party the first Sunday in October for the same group that had been at my first party, with the exception of Carl and Jim, who had an out-of-town conflict that weekend. Which was probably a good thing, because with the addition of both Nate and Jethro‘s new friend, we still had eight guys in attendance—two more guests would have been cumbersome. Jethro‘s new friend was just as skinny as Jethro, and he seemed nice enough. More to the point, I did some deep probing into his thoughts and found no evidence of any duplicity toward Jethro. Shortly after the hot tub party, I went on my first solo out-of-town assignment since Nate and I had become a couple. We were planning to conduct an experiment to see how well we could keep in touch over distances. We‘d felt our bond becoming stronger as the weeks went by, so when I was safely in my hotel room in Daytona Beach, ninety miles from home, I reached out to make contact with Nate and was pleasantly surprised when he responded.

Daytona Beach, FL Evening “THIS is so cool,” he sent when contact was established. “Yeah, but we need to be careful to contact each other only when we‟re alone—otherwise it might be a bit distracting.” “Understood. Are you in bed yet?” “Not even close. It‟s still daylight, and I‟m gonna locate the target house.” “Okay, catch you at bedtime.” Around eleven I settled down in bed and reached out for Nate. “Are you still awake?” I sent.

“Silly question. I‟ve been waiting. Are you naked?” “Can‟t you tell by looking through my eyes?” “Yeah, I see… naked and erect.” “As are you.” “Yeah, and it feels so good, having you looking on when I do this….” We were so attuned to each other by this time that it was over in a matter of minutes. “I wonder if phone sex is anything like what we just did?” he sent. “Only if the participants have extremely vivid imaginations, and even then, it would certainly pale by comparison.” “Yeah. I‟m all sticky.” “Time for a shower?” “Yeah.” We maintained contact until our ablutions were completed and we were back in bed. I concluded my assignment by noon the next day and was back at my desk writing my report by midafternoon.

Jacksonville, FL Midafternoon “QUENTIN?” “I‟m here. Where are you?” “Can you talk?” We had learned the hard way that attempting to communicate while engaged in other activities was a bit disconcerting, depending upon the nature of the activity. “I‟m sitting at my desk writing a report. What‟s up?” “I‟m at one of those chain gas stations on the south side—you know, the kind that has a dozen or more pumps.” “Sure. So?”

“After I pumped my gas, I went inside to use the restroom, and because I‟m by myself, I was listening to what was going on around me.” “Good boy.” “Yeah. Well, I caught the clerk thinking about stealing. In fact, I know how he‟s gonna do it.” “Yeah?” “I thought maybe you‟d want to „catch‟ him in the act and maybe use it to bring in some business.” “That‟s a good idea. Tell me what he‟s planning to do.” I listened carefully and made a few notes on a pad as Nate passed along what he had learned. “You did good, kiddo,” I sent. “By the time you get home, I might even have a plan.” “Why don‟t you wait for me upstairs?” “In the shower or in the bed?” “The shower. I‟m kind of sweaty.” “I‟ll be waiting to cool you down—before I heat you back up again.” I did some quick research on the Internet, made two telephone calls, and closed the office for the day. I was waiting in the master bedroom when the rumble of the garage door underneath my feet announced Nate‘s arrival. By the time he arrived upstairs, I was in the shower and ready. ―How‘d you know I was home?‖ Nate said as he entered the shower. ―I‘m a detective.‖ ―And that means?‖ ―I detected the sound of the garage door opening, and guess who besides me has the only clicker?‖ ―Smart-ass.‖ ―Yeah. Shall we finish this here or on the bed?‖ ―Shower‘s not quite big enough for my favorite position.‖ ―Then the bed it is.‖

Later, we went downstairs, still naked, ate a light supper at the kitchen counter, and Nate said, ―Did you come up with a plan?‖ ―You bet.‖ I filled him in on the details. ―And you‘ve got a meeting with their security guy for tomorrow morning?‖ Nate said with a certain amount of awe in his voice. ―Yep.‖ ―Damn, you‘re good.‖ ―So they tell me.‖ ―You think he‘ll go for it?‖ ―Ask me that question over lunch tomorrow and I might have an answer.‖ ―You bet I will.‖ ―Wait a minute, don‘t you have classes tomorrow?‖ ―Yeah, but that doesn‘t mean I can‘t contact you at lunch.‖ ―True.‖ I met with Joseph Rinker the next morning. He was past forty, had the broken nose and cauliflower ears of a former boxer, and was in charge of security for all the stores owned by the parent company in a six-county area. He was also a hard sell and had dug his heels in when I refused to tell him precisely how I knew there would be a robbery. ―Like I said, Mr. Rinker,‖ I said, ―one of my guys was working another case and stumbled over this information.‖ ―That‘s kind of hard to swallow.‖ ―I don‘t really care whether you swallow it or not, all I want is to get my foot in the door, so to speak.‖ ―Your foot in the door? In what way?‖ ―I‘m starting to branch out into providing a new service.‖ ―And that would be?‖ ―I don‘t have a name for it yet. It will be a close cousin of socalled ‗mystery shopper‘ services but will be focused on anonymous visits to stores in an effort to catch employees who are stealing or spot ways in which they might easily do so.‖ ―And what exactly do you want me to do?‖ ―Join me in staking out the store in question. If nothing happens,

I‘ll look like a fool and slink away quietly. On the other hand, you might just catch a thief.‖ ―Stake a store out all night?‖ ―Not at all. The miscreant goes off duty at eleven. If my informant is correct, he will place some merchandise just outside of the back door before he leaves, and someone else will pick it up soon thereafter.‖ ―I don‘t believe it.‖ ―Okay. Sorry to have wasted your time.‖ I stood, ready to leave, and he said, ―Wait a minute. You‘re serious, aren‘t you?‖ ―I am indeed, and I can give you the names of a couple of very satisfied clients whose employees I‘ve caught pilfering—or worse.‖ ―All right, I‘ll do it, but I‘m not going to sit outside that store all night.‖ We quickly arranged to meet in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant located near the store in question, and I went back to my office satisfied that I‘d done all that I could for the moment. I was sitting on the back porch munching on a sandwich when Nate contacted me. “Well?” “Well, what?” “Don‟t be coy. How did your meeting go?” “We‟re on.” “Cool. Can I help?” “Yep. I‟ve got a part for you in this little production.” “Tell me about it.” I did, and he liked it. At the appointed time that evening, we headed out. Nate‘s part consisted of driving his car to a side street near the service station. At the appropriate time, he would then drive to the station, use one of the gas pumps, and hold himself in readiness. I met Mr. Rinker in the agreed-upon parking lot, and he followed me to a spot in the parking lot of a Family Dollar store conveniently situated next to the station. We parked in their side lot so that the store building was between us and

the station. Then he followed me to a vantage point behind the store, which had closed an hour or two earlier, giving us a clear view of the back of the service station. A privacy fence had conveniently been built around a Dumpster, and we stationed ourselves behind it. ―Now what?‖ Rinker said when we were in position. ―We wait for my cell phone to ring.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because I‘ve got someone coming to the station to pump gas shortly, and he‘ll give me a call when something is about to happen.‖ ―I don‘t know why I‘m doing this.‖ ―You‘re here, might as well make the most of it.‖ ―At least we have a pleasant night for it,‖ he said. ―Yeah, I hate doing this sort of thing in July and August.‖ ―Do you do that often?‖ ―Whenever someone hires me. My time is what I have to sell, and I follow the money.‖ “He‟s getting ready to do it.” “Okay. Dial my cell phone the minute he opens that back door.” “On it.” A minute later, my cell phone vibrated (I had turned the ringer off for the occasion), and I answered it, pretended to have a conversation, and snapped the phone shut. ―He‘s heading for the back door,‖ I said. ―Which should set off an alarm—it‘s only an emergency exit.‖ ―Patience.‖ The back door of the station opened, and a guy carried a couple of boxes out. ―Damn,‖ Rinker said, ―he must have found a way to kill the alarm.‖ ―Yeah.‖ The back door of the station opened again, a couple more boxes were stacked on the first two, and he said, ―What now?‖ ―We wait.‖ “He just called his friend, and the friend will be here in ten

minutes.” “Great. Give me another ring.” My cell phone vibrated again, and I had another conversation. ―Your employee just called someone on his cell phone,‖ I said, ―and my guy is leaving. By the way, he says he got some decent shots of your guy setting those boxes out the back door.‖ ―Did he say what‘s in the boxes?‖ ―Those big bottles of beer.‖ ―Shit.‖ Ten minutes later, a battered old Econoline van drove behind the station, and a guy got out. He opened the rear door and began to load the boxes into it. ―Let‘s go,‖ I said. We hurried back to our cars, started them, and hauled ass next door. By prearrangement, I pulled in front of the van, and Rinker boxed him in from the rear. I jumped out of my car, pulled my gun, and ordered the thief to lie down on the ground. While I was doing that, Rinker called 911. “We got him, babe,” I said. “Can I come back there?” “Absolutely. Come join the party, but you may be sorry.” “Why?” “Because we‟re gonna be here for hours.” “I‟m coming anyway.” “Don‟t say you weren‟t warned.” Nate arrived behind the station a few minutes later, and the police weren‘t too far behind him. It took a while for the two uniformed officers to get a handle on what had happened, and we would have been there all night if I hadn‘t played the ―George‖ card. ―Look, Officer,‖ I said, ―why can‘t we come downtown and make our statements in the morning?‖ ―It needs to be handled tonight, Sir, while we‘ve got you.‖ ―Tell you what,‖ I said, ―why don‘t I call my friend Captain Martin and see what he thinks?‖

―You know Captain Martin?‖ ―George is a very good friend of mine, and he and I have worked on a couple of cases together. I just happen to have his home number on speed dial in my cell phone.‖ ―I suppose that will be all right, Sir,‖ the younger of the two officers said. ―Thank you. My associate and I will be there first thing in the morning.‖ ―Well,‖ Rinker said, ―I don‘t mind going downtown right now, if that‘s what I have to do to set things in motion to have my crooked employee arrested.‖ ―Very good, Sir,‖ older cop said. ―I‘ll call you tomorrow,‖ Rinker said to me as we were leaving. ―I‘ll look forward to it,‖ I said. Nate followed me home, and when we got there, we went straight upstairs, took a quick shower, and crawled into bed. ―That was fun,‖ he said, referring to our adventure of the evening. ―I can think of things that are much more fun.‖ ―Can you really? Like what?‖ ―Well, there‘s this… and this… and let‘s not forget that other thing.‖ ―Now you‘re talking.‖

Jacksonville, FL Morning

NATE had no classes the next morning, so we began our day by going downtown to the sheriff‘s office at ten and allowing a detective to take our formal statements. Nate had transferred the incriminating photographs from his cell phone to his laptop and burned them onto a CD for the police. Someone had alerted George to our presence in the building, and he stopped by to say hello when the interviews were over. ―I owe you one, George,‖ I said. ―What does that mean?‖ he said. ―The officers wanted us to come downtown last night for this, but when I tossed your name around, they changed their minds.‖ ―Don‘t worry about it.‖ ―It‘s eleven thirty, can Nate and I buy you lunch?‖ ―Sure. How about Richard‘s? I‘m in a Camel Rider sort of mood.‖ ―Works for me.‖ ―What‘s a Camel Rider?‖ Nate said. ―Q!‖ George said. ―Nate‘s been in town how long? And you haven‘t introduced him to the Camel Rider?‖ ―Sorry, I guess I overlooked it.‖ ―Okay, guys,‖ Nate said. ―I repeat—what‘s a Camel Rider?‖ George and I took turns explaining. ―Sounds good,‖ Nate said. ―Why don‘t you call Mike,‖ I said, ―and see if he wants to join us?‖ ―Will do,‖ George said.

―See you there,‖ I said. We got to Richard‘s first and settled down in a couple of chairs to wait for our friends to arrive. Mike, whose office was only a few blocks away, arrived next, followed shortly by George. It was still a bit early and the line was short, so it didn‘t take us long to order and pick up our food. When we were settled at a table, I waited until Nate had taken a few bites of his sandwich before speaking. ―So,‖ I said, ―what do you think of the Camel Rider, Nate?‖ ―I like it. In fact, it‘s kind of amazing that something so simple could taste so good… and be so satisfying.‖ ―I‘ll second that,‖ Mike said. ―If you don‘t mind my asking, Nate,‖ George said, ―how are the legal proceedings going?‖ ―Very slowly,‖ Nate said. ―It‘s gonna be months before the auditors finish following the money trail.‖ ―You left out the good news,‖ I said. ―Oh, yeah,‖ Nate said. ―My mother and stepfather will be out of my house by the end of October.‖ ―And Nate and I are going down there to inspect, paint, and repair as necessary,‖ I said. ―Then a rental agent will take over.‖ ―Are you going to rent it long-term?‖ George said. ―No,‖ Nate said. ―I want to get rid of it, so Rion is going to try and set up a tax-free exchange—and that may take a while.‖ ―Don‘t forget to insure it.‖ ―Quentin put that on our list of things to do,‖ Nate said. ―Why not just sell it?‖ Mike said. ―Potential capital gains problems,‖ I said. ―The house has technically belonged to Nate since his father‘s death, and Nate‘s basis is market value as of that date.‖ ―My dad died ten years ago,‖ Nate said, ―and the value has doubled since then.‖ ―Don‘t overlook doing an installment sale,‖ George said. ―What‘s that?‖ Nate said. After George explained the concept, Nate said, ―I wonder why

Rion didn‘t suggest that?‖ ―Probably because he was focused on avoiding the capital gains tax altogether,‖ I said, ―which is what we asked him to do—but you can bet we‘ll ask him that question. Better yet, we‘ll go see Jim.‖ ―Jim?‖ Nate said. ―You‘ve met Carl and Jim,‖ I said. ―Jim is my accountant, and his office is only a few blocks from here. In fact, he rents his office space from Mike.‖ Our conversation was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. ―Excuse me,‖ I said, ―but this is a business call.‖ I left the table, answering the call as I stood. When I returned to the table, I was smiling. ―Good news, I take it?‖ George said. ―You could say that. Possible, no, probable, new client wants to see me ASAP.‖ ―The guy from last night?‖ Nate said. ―Bingo. Wanta come with me?‖ ―You bet.‖ ―The guy who called,‖ I said for the benefit of George and Mike, ―is in charge of security at a chain of gas stations for a multi-county region. We sort of stumbled on information about last night‘s possible theft while working another case. I alerted him to what might happen, and that quid pro quo is getting my foot in the door with his company.‖ ―You ‗stumbled‘ on information?‖ Mike said. ―Actually Nate did, to give credit where it‘s due.‖ ―How do you ‗stumble‘ on information like that?‖ ―If you have exceptional hearing—and happen to be in the right place at the right time—you overhear things… like conversations… like one side of a phone call, etcetera,‖ Nate said. ―I didn‘t know you were helping Q, Nate,‖ George said. ―I do what I can, when I can,‖ Nate said. ―It‘s kind of fun.‖ “Babe,” I sent, “I think it‟s time to change the subject.” “Yeah, we‟re skirting close to a danger zone, aren‟t we?” “No kidding.”

―I‘m going to start offering a new service,‖ I said. ―It‘s still in the planning stages but will sort of be modeled after those ‗mystery shopper‘ services that companies offer. Instead of going to stores and actually buying things, however, we‘re going to visit stores and look for areas where employee theft is either happening or could easily happen.‖ ―That sounds promising,‖ George said. ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―but it‘s not nearly as exciting as catching adulterers in flagrante delicto in motel rooms.‖ ―True,‖ George said, ―but when you get enough contracts for your new service, it will certainly be a more steady source of income.‖ ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―and I‘ve got to sharpen my pencil a bit when I quote fees.‖ ―You and Nate are the real thing, aren‘t you?‖ Mike said. ―Yeah, I guess we are,‖ I said, ―but how can you tell?‖ ―That‘s a hard question to answer,‖ Mike said, ―but I think it has a lot to do with how comfortable the two of you appear to be with each other.‖ ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―Nate and I seem to fit each other like a pair of old and well-worn shoes.‖ ―That being the case,‖ Mike said, ―have you talked to Mitch about reciprocal wills, medical powers of attorney, and things like that?‖ ―No,‖ I said, ―we haven‘t, but that‘s a darn good idea. I wonder why I didn‘t think of it?‖ ―Has Mitch told you about his stalker?‖ George said. ―Sure.‖ ―Did he mention that he and Rion had just signed medical powers of attorney that afternoon before he was stabbed? In fact, Rion still had them in his briefcase when he went with Mitch to the emergency room.‖ ―No, he neglected to mention that little detail, but I take your point.‖ ―Good,‖ Mike said, ―because it‘s a hugely important one, especially given the tendency of some hospitals to bar non-family members from the intensive care section.‖

We finished our lunch, George and Mike thanked us for it, and we went our separate ways—George went back downtown, Mike returned to his office, and Nate and I went to see Mr. Rinker. It wasn‘t an easy sell, but in the end, we had a contract to visit each of the nearly thirty service stations in the region at least twice a month for a period of six months. Renewal of the contract was contingent on what, if anything, we discovered. ―Okay, kiddo,‖ I said on the way home, ―we asked for it, and we got it.‖ ―Yeah, I guess we‘d better get busy.‖ ―You‘re enjoying this, aren‘t you?‖ ―What‘s not to enjoy? It‘s gonna be a heck of a lot more fun than working on my master‘s.‖ ―I can‘t argue with that. When we get back to the office, we‘ll map out a strategy—and a schedule.‖ ―Cool.‖ ―We also need to have a serious talk.‖ ―About?‖ ―Those documents Mike mentioned. Medical powers of attorney and things like that.‖ ―Sounds good to me. We need all the legal protection we can get.‖ ―Good, I‘ll give Mitch a call.‖ As usual, I parked in the garage, then walked across the yard to the office. Nate followed me, and we settled down at my desk to discuss how best to handle policing all those gas stations. After a great deal of discussion back and forth, we settled on a sort of inspection form with boxes to check and blanks to fill in. I turned to the computer and dummied up a quick first draft, printed two copies, and handed one to Nate. ―What do you think, Watson?‖ I said. ―Looks good to me, Holmes.‖ ―Great. Now we go to Part B of the problem.‖ ―Part B?‖ ―Part B is where I print out a list of the stations and their

addresses along with a calendar—then we work out a schedule.‖ ―Let‘s do it.‖ ―You‘re really getting excited about this, aren‘t you?‖ ―You bet. This a lot more fun than graduate school.‖ ―Yeah, I guess it is. Speaking of school, are you gonna go for a doctorate next?‖ ―It means another year‘s work, but yes—I need the credentials to teach, especially at the college level.‖ ―How about teaching at a private high school such as Episcopal High?‖ ―A master‘s might do for that, but a doctorate would mean more money.‖ ―Then go for it.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Orlando, FL Saturday morning

NATE and I drove down to Orlando the first Saturday in November to assess the need for repairs and painting at his house. I made notes as we did our initial walk-through of the house; then we went to the nearest Panera Bread outlet and discussed them over a late lunch. ―Much as I hate to give my stepfather credit for anything,‖ Nate said, ―I have to admit the house was well maintained.‖ ―Yeah, babe, but don‘t forget whose money he was spending on all that maintenance.‖ ―I know. Quentin, did I do the right thing when I evicted my parents?‖ ―In a word, yes.‖ ―Then why don‘t I feel better about it?‖ ―Because you‘re a decent man. If you were all vindictive and gloating, I‘d be worried about you.‖ ―I guess.‖

―Look, why don‘t you go have a chat with Father Cullen at Good Shepherd?‖ ―Why would I do that?‖ ―Because you like and respect him, and because counseling parishioners is part of his job.‖ ―I‘d feel silly.‖ ―I‘ll go with you and hold your hand.‖ ―Really?‖ “Yes, really. Babe, I‟m wide open to you. Do you see any hint of hesitation?” “No.” “There you go.” ―Okay,‖ I said, switching to verbal communication, ―here‘s what we need to do about your house.‖ ―Our house.‖ ―Okay, here‘s what we need to do about our house: call a locksmith and have all of the locks changed; get the utilities switched to your name; get a cleaning service in to make it spic and span; and finally, we come back down here and spend a weekend painting. I almost forgot, we also need to go see an insurance agent.‖ ―Sounds like a plan. Will Rion‘s Realtor friend be able to arrange for the locksmith and the cleaning service?‖ ―Rion says the guy doesn‘t handle rentals but will refer us to somebody who does. Arranging for locksmiths and cleaning is part of what they do.‖ ―Cool. Let‘s make the call.‖ By the time we left Orlando, we had met with Rion‘s friend and the rental agent to whom he referred us. The agent graciously took the time to walk through the house with us; she also made a number of suggestions about things that would make it more rentable, particularly in the area of paint colors. ―Well,‖ I said, as we undressed for bed that evening, ―that was a long but productive day.‖ ―Yeah. I still can‘t believe how helpful that lady was.‖

―Babe, the more rentable the house is, the better her commission income—it‘s what she does for a living.‖ ―I know. I guess I‘m still not used to being around people who are so willing to be helpful—whatever their motive. Most of the people in the cults my mother and stepfather were involved in were just the opposite.‖ ―Hey, it‘s time to put your blinders on and look forward.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Jacksonville, FL Sunday

SUNDAY morning after church, I asked Father Cullen a question as we shook hands. ―Father Cullen,‖ I said, ―you do pastoral counseling, don‘t you?‖ ―Absolutely.‖ ―Do we need an appointment?‖ ―Just call my secretary and ask her to check my schedule. She‘ll pencil you in.‖ ―Will do.‖ I made the call, and a few days later we went to see Father Cullen as soon as Nate got home from school. His secretary ushered us into his office, closing the door behind her as she left, and Father Cullen said, ―Gentlemen, what can I do for you?‖ ―You tell him, Quentin,‖ Nate said. I outlined Nate‘s situation for Father Cullen in as few words as possible and concluded by saying, ―The problem is, Nate‘s feeling guilty because he had his mother and stepfather evicted from his house.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―I know at an intellectual level that it was the right thing to do, but I feel bad about it.‖ ―I would worry about you if you didn‘t feel that way,‖ Father Cullen said. ―The fact that doing what you had to do bothers you

speaks volumes about your character.‖ ―That‘s more or less what Quentin said.‖ ―Then listen to him. Look, Nate, your mother had an obligation to take care of you after your father died, and she clearly made some bad, even disastrous, choices. To put it crudely, she chose her husband over her son, and that was wrong of her on many levels.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―What‘s her attitude toward you now?‖ ―Her cult believes that being gay is worse than being a rapist or a serial killer,‖ Nate said, ―and she‘s still an active member, so that about sums it up.‖ ―I see that so often,‖ Father Cullen said, ―and it never ceases to amaze me the depths to which people will sink in furtherance of their misguided beliefs.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―I hate to think what might have happened if Quentin hadn‘t rescued me.‖ The conversation continued for quite a while before we thanked Father Cullen for his time and prepared to leave. ―Don‘t mention it,‖ he said. ―It‘s part of what I do.‖ ―And I appreciate it,‖ Nate said. ―If you need to talk about this again,‖ Father Cullen said, ―I‘m available.‖ We went to the car, headed out of the parking lot, and I said, ―Let‘s go to The Loop and find the quietest corner of the deck.‖ ―Yeah. It‘s a pleasant day, even though it is November.‖ Despite the early hour, there were two couples on the deck, so we carried our trays to the most remote table and sat down to eat. The tide was almost completely out, and we sat eating in silence for a while watching the gulls and other birds scavenging for fish trapped in the little pools of water. ―Feel better?‖ I said. “See for yourself.” “Okay.” I probed gently for a bit and withdrew. ―You seem to be pretty much at peace with things, babe.‖

―A lot of what Father Cullen said made sense.‖ ―He‘s a good man.‖ ―No argument there.‖ ―It just hit me,‖ I said. ―We haven‘t heard from the FBI for a while.‖ ―The wheels of justice grind slowly, don‘t they?‖ ―Yeah, now that you mention it. When do you want to go to Orlando and get the painting taken care of?‖ ―Can we take a long weekend starting Friday?‖ ―What about school?‖ ―I only have one class on Fridays, and the teacher has canceled it because he‘s going out of town or something.‖ ―Then Friday it is. Refresh my memory—were there any stepladders in your house?‖ ―Yeah, a six-foot one in the laundry room.‖ ―That‘s all we need. How close is the nearest Home Depot or Lowe‘s to your house?‖ ―There‘s one of each less than a mile away.‖ ―I‘ll get on the Internet as soon as we get home.‖ ―For painting supplies?‖ ―To reserve a room at the nearest motel, silly.‖ ―Oh.‖

Orlando, FL Thursday evening

WE

WOUND up checking into an Orlando motel Thursday evening

after visiting Home Depot, which allowed us to hit the ground running Friday morning. We painted diligently all day Friday and far into the evening, stopping only to have lunch and visit an insurance agency. By Saturday afternoon, we were finished—and tired. We set the alarm, locked up the house, and returned to the motel. After a long shower together, we crawled in bed for a while and then went in search of a

restaurant. Between dinner and dessert, Nate said, ―You know what? I‘m not tired anymore.‖ ―Really? Maybe it‘ll hit you later.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Want to do something wild?‖ I said. ―How wild?‖ ―Dancing at the Parliament House.‖ ―That‘s pretty wild.‖ ―Ever been there?‖ ―Are you kidding? I always wanted to but didn‘t dare—that cult has spies everywhere.‖ ―Babe, that was then—this is now.‖ ―Okay, let‘s do it.‖ ―It‘s a little early, so we‘ll go back to the motel for a while, okay?‖ ―Sure.‖ We relaxed in our room until a little after nine; then we hopped in the car and headed for the Parliament House. It was a busy Saturday evening, so we had to park near the rear of the parking lot, and the dark corner prompted Nate to say, ―Are you worried about leaving the car in this dark corner?‖ ―No. It‘s too nondescript to attract attention.‖ ―Okay.‖ ―I have to warn you—it‘s been a while since I‘ve danced.‖ ―However long it was, I can assure you it‘s been even longer for me. Actually, I‘ve never danced with another guy before.‖ ―Oh, goody, this ought to be fun.‖ ―Yeah.‖ Nate turned out to be a very good dancer, and I told him so several times during the course of the next two hours. Somehow we managed to find a place to sit, and we settled down with cans of Sprite in order to cool off a bit. Telepathy comes in handy when the background noise reaches a certain decibel level, and the relentlessly

pounding ―music‖ from the dance floor certainly qualified. “Nate.” “What?” “There‟s a blond guy standing at the bar over there who‟s been staring at you for a while. Do you know him?” He turned to look in the direction of the bar. “Holy shit. That‟s Rick.” “Rick?” “Rick d‟Angelo from the cult. He‟s one of the kids who disappeared for a while and then came back.” “Were you friends?” “We knew each other, but I wouldn‟t have called us friends.” “Is he one of the ones you told the FBI about?” “Yeah.” “Hang on, I‟m gonna do a little probing.” “I‟ll join you.” After a bit of probing, I was satisfied and so was Nate. “No ill will there,” I sent. “Yeah.” “Why don‟t you go speak to him?” “You think I should?” “Oops, never mind. He‟s coming our way.” The blond in question walked up to our table, and said, ―Hi, Nate. I never thought I‘d see you here.‖ ―Hello, Rick,‖ Nate said. ―Why not?‖ ―I guess I thought I was the only gay guy in that church.‖ ―Yeah, well, it wasn‘t something I talked about. This is my partner, Quentin. Quentin, Rick.‖ We shook hands. I invited Rick to sit with us, and he accepted. ―Where are you living now, Nate?‖ Rick said. ―Jacksonville. You?‖

―I have an apartment up in Sanford, but my roommate‘s straight.‖ ―That can‘t be much fun.‖ ―No, but it provides me with a certain amount of protective coloration.‖ ―You‘re not out, then?‖ ―No way—at least not yet. Maybe when I finish college and I can move far away from here, but not now.‖ ―I don‘t know what to say.‖ ―Nothing to say. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. FBI been to see you?‖ ―Yeah. I guess that means they‘ve talked to you too.‖ ―You bet. I think they‘re gonna nail a huge chunk of that preacher‘s hide to the wall on behalf of all the kids he reprogrammed.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―That is what happened to you, isn‘t it?‖ ―They grabbed me in the parking lot of the Florida Mall,‖ Nate said, ―but I got rescued before the really bad stuff began.‖ ―Rescued?‖ ―Yeah, by Quentin.‖ Rick looked at me, so I seized the moment to jump into the conversation and said, ―Guys, until the case goes to trial and you‘re called to testify, it might not be a good idea for you to be talking about it too much.‖ ―Oh,‖ Nate said, ―I hadn‘t thought about that.‖ The conversation shifted to safer ground, and Rick eventually went in search of a conquest for the night—which was why he was at the club in the first place. As he was leaving, the DJ switched the music to a slow tune, so I grabbed Nate‘s hand and led him to the dance floor. “This is my kind of dancing,” I sent. “Really? Why?” “Because it involves body contact.” “Yeah, this is nice. In fact, it‟s so nice it makes me want to go back to the motel and get naked.”

“As soon as the song has ended, deal?” “Deal.” We had one more surprise before we left Orlando the next day, and it came in the form of a telephone call.

Orlando, FL Sunday morning

NATE and I slept late Sunday morning and, what with one thing or another, missed out on the free breakfast in our hotel, so we went to the nearest IHOP. Nate was in the middle of consuming a strawberry waffle when his phone rang. ―Hello,‖ he said. ―… Yeah, I remember you. … You have? That‘s great. … As it happens, we‘re having breakfast at an IHOP in Orlando right now. Why don‘t you join us? … We‘re at the one on Kirkman Road. … Good, see you in a few.‖ I raised an eyebrow when he ended the call. ―That was Doug Samuels,‖ he said. ―Rion‘s Realtor friend?‖ ―The same.‖ ―And he wanted?‖ ―He may have a tax-free exchange for us.‖ ―Wow! I‘m impressed.‖ ―Yeah, me too.‖ Doug Samuels, who appeared to be in his late thirties, arrived ten minutes later. ―You must have been close by when you called,‖ I said after he took a seat in our booth. ―Actually, I had just shown the house to some people who are very interested in it, and was still in front of it when I placed the call.‖ ―We had no idea anything would happen this quickly,‖ Nate said. ―Don‘t get ahead of yourself,‖ Doug said. ―Nothing has actually happened yet, but I do have a proposal for you.‖

―Lay it on us,‖ Nate said. And he did. An investor wanted to trade two rental houses in the suburb of Casselberry for Nate‘s house. ―Can we see them?‖ ―I can take you there after you finish your breakfast, if you like.‖ ―Isn‘t Casselberry on the other side of Orlando?‖ I said. ―Yeah. Do you know the exit for SR-436?‖ ―That‘s the one for the Altamonte Mall, right?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Can you give us time to check out of our motel? Then we can follow you; that way we‘ll be a lot closer to home when we‘re through.‖ ―Sure.‖ We finished our breakfast, then he followed us back to our motel and waited patiently for us to run upstairs and grab our bags, which were already packed. Then we followed him up I-4 to the SR-436 exit, where we left the interstate and headed east. The first house he led us to was a nice three-bedroom, two-bath ranch house in an established development. We walked through the house, and he gave us printouts from the property appraiser‘s website that provided data on age of construction, assessed value, and more importantly, the taxes. From there, he led us to another development, and the process was repeated. There was a Wendy‘s near the entrance to the second development, so we went there to have a Coke and talk about the houses we‘d just seen. ―So,‖ he asked when the conversation had subsided, ―what do you think?‖ ―If I understand everything you‘ve just said,‖ Nate replied, ―it sounds good.‖ ―I think we should take the offer back to Jacksonville with us,‖ I said, ―and run it by our accountant.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―and if Jim says it looks good, I‘ll do it. Can I sign it and fax it back to you?‖ ―Absolutely,‖ the Realtor said. ―We‘ll see the accountant first thing tomorrow morning,‖ I said. ―By the way,‖ the Realtor said, ―we‘re considerably east of I-4

right now.‖ ―So?‖ I said. ―If you turn left when you leave the restaurant, and follow this street a mile or so, you‘ll come to a toll road which wraps around Orlando.‖ ―You‘re talking about 417, aren‘t you?‖ Nate said. ―Yes.‖ ―I‘ve used it before. It hits I-4 just below the Seminole Towne Square Mall.‖ ―Good,‖ I said. ―That means you get to drive.‖

Jacksonville, FL Monday morning

NATE and I swam laps at the Y Monday morning, then went to Jim‘s office as soon as we‘d showered and dressed—I had called him Sunday afternoon to find out what time he would be at his desk. He looked over the paperwork for the proposed swap, asked a few questions about the properties, and said, ―It looks like a good deal to me.‖ ―Thanks, Jim,‖ I said. ―Send us a bill.‖ ―Just invite us to the next hot tub party,‖ he said. ―We invited you to the last one, but you couldn‘t make it. Sorry, I couldn‘t resist saying that.‖ ―Yeah, we had a family obligation.‖ ―Not to worry,‖ I said, ―we‘ll do it again soon.‖ We went to my office, Nate signed the document accepting the offer, and then I faxed it to the Realtor. ―Now we wait,‖ I said. ―Yeah.‖ ―Don‘t you have a class or two today?‖ ―Not until one.‖ ―How shall we make the time pass by?‖ ―Take three guesses, and the first two don‘t count.‖

Later, as we were sitting at the kitchen counter having an early lunch so Nate could get to class on time, I said, ―Have we talked about what to do for Thanksgiving?‖ ―No, we haven‘t, but Grandma kind of hinted at inviting us to Chattanooga when I talked to her on the phone the other day. Why?‖ ―Chattanooga is fine with me, but if that doesn‘t materialize, there‘s a great covered-dish Thanksgiving dinner at Good Shepherd every year.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yep. The meat is cooked in the church kitchens, and members bring covered dishes—I‘ve had a couple of memorable Thanksgivings there visiting with people.‖ ―Sounds good, but let‘s play it by ear. I‘m still a little overwhelmed by the differences between Mom‘s cult and Good Shepherd.‖ ―Understood. Darn.‖ ―Excuse me?‖ ―Darn. We don‘t have time to run back upstairs before you go to class.‖ ―Yeah, but I‘ll be back, and don‘t you have something to detect?‖ ―I‘m between cases at the moment, but that‘s always subject to change.‖ He looked at his watch. ―I‘ve got time to brush my teeth and I‘m outta here.‖ I kissed him goodbye, cleaned up the kitchen, and went to my office. Two hours later, I felt that I was truly back on top of my paperwork, so I hung the ―Closed‖ sign on the door, locked up, and went back to the house, where I settled down in my favorite chair in the den and picked up a book I‘d been meaning to read but hadn‘t quite gotten around to. Knowing that Nate would be either on the way home or about to be on the way, I reached out and made contact with him. “Hi,” he sent. “I wondered where you were.” “Spent some productive time at my desk while you were out getting yourself educated.” “And now?”

“See for yourself.” I felt a sort of mental jolt as we slipped into full rapport. “You‟re finally reading that book that‟s been gathering dust in the den all this time.” “Babe, I only just opened it, actually reading it hasn‟t happened.” “Point taken. Okay, I‟m getting into my car, so I‟ll see you in a few.” We slipped out of rapport but maintained a feather touch in each other‘s minds. I began to read and only vaguely sensed him focusing on driving out of the parking lot at UNF and making his way to Turner Butler Boulevard, and from there to I-95. “I‟m gonna have to make a pit stop,” he sent. “Where?” “Golden Arches at I-95 and Emerson Street.” “Keep a watchful „mental eye‟ out for any undue interest in you.” “You think that‟s still necessary?” “Does that mean you haven‟t been?” “Not as much.” “That‟s not good, babe. Not good at all.” “You think?” “Damn straight I do—you can never let your guard down. Ever.” “Okay, okay.” I settled back with my book once again but found that I couldn‘t really concentrate on the book and keep lightly in touch with Nate at the same time—especially given his admission that he had been being less than vigilant. I was jolted out of touch with the den by a sudden burst from Nate. “Oh shit,” he sent. “What?” “There‟s a couple of guys in a car outside waiting for me to come out of the restaurant.” “Who are they?” “Members of the cult, according to their thoughts. What do I

do?” “Can you describe them?” “I can‟t see them.” “Go back to the counter and order something to eat, even if it‟s only a small Coke and an order of fries. Take a table in the busiest part of the dining room and make that food last for fucking ever, got it?” “Got it.” “Once you‟re sitting down, link up with me, and we‟ll probe their minds a bit—maybe even get a description of one of them from the other one, okay?” The few minutes it took Nate to obtain his Coke and fries were the longest few minutes of my life. Finally, he sent, “Okay, I‟m sitting down.” “Let‟s do it.” Nate and I went into total rapport which increased our strength, and it didn‘t take long to get the information I needed. “Now I‟m going to call you on your cell phone,” I sent. “Why?” “I‟m gonna see if I can catch George at his desk or, failing that, Carl, and if anything comes of it later, there needs to be a record of us talking by phone—how else could I have learned about this?” “Yeah.” I picked up my cell phone and quickly speed-dialed Nate. When he answered, I said, ―Leave your phone open. I‘m gonna try to get hold of George or Carl on another line. Stay mentally tuned in so you‘ll know what I tell George.‖ I dialed George‘s direct line and got lucky. ―Martin,‖ his voice said. ―Quentin here, George,‖ I said. ―We‘ve got a problem.‖ ―Yes?‖ ―Remember that restraining order Nate got against his mother, his stepfather, and their cult we told you about?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Nate just called me. He‘s at the McDonald‘s at I-95 and

Emerson Street. A car followed him all the way from UNF, and it‘s parked outside the restaurant. He thinks he sort of recognized at least one of the guys from the cult.‖ George was suddenly all business. ―Can he describe them for me?‖ ―This is what he told me—I wrote it down.‖ I gave George the description. ―What kind of car is Nate driving?‖ I gave him the particulars, including the tag number. ―And the presumed bad guys‘ car?‖ I gave him as much information as I could about their car. ―What‘s Nate doing right now?‖ ―I told him to buy a small drink and an order of fries and sit down to eat them very, very slowly in the busiest section of the dining room.‖ ―Good. I‘m gonna put you on hold for a minute and see who‘s available.‖ ―No problem, I‘ll switch lines on my cell phone and bring Nate up to date.‖ “Did you get all of that, babe?” I sent. “Yeah.” “Good. Just sit tight.” “I‟m breaking my fries into three pieces, dipping them into ketchup, and eating them very slowly.” “Perfect.” ―Still there, Q?‖ George‘s voice said in my ear. ―Yep.‖ ―We got lucky. Carl was in the building, and he‘s on his way wearing plainclothes. A uniformed guy is driving him down I-95 full bore—lights and siren—but he‘ll go silent the minute he gets to the exit, then he‘ll drive into the shopping center parking lot behind McDonald‘s and drop Carl off. Where are the suspects parked?‖ ―On the side of the building opposite the drive-through.‖ ―Perfect. They‘ll let Carl off on the other side of the building, and he‘ll go inside. Then he‘ll spot Nate and act surprised—like they are

old friends—and join him. He‘ll tell Nate what to do from there.‖ ―Thanks, George.‖ ―That‘s what the taxpayers pay us for, Q.‖ ―I‘ll pass this along to Nate.‖ George rang off, and I switched lines to speak to Nate for a minute, even though he already knew what was going to happen. Finally, we hung up, and I settled back in my chair to maintain mental contact with Nate. “Babe,” I sent, “have you had any luck trying to remember either of those guys?” “Yes. One of them was a frequent visitor at the house in Orlando, so I can positively identify him as a cult member, and as one of the people named in the restraining order.” “Great. Be sure and tell Carl that when he gets there.” “I hope it‟s soon—this is nerve-wracking.” “No shit? How do you think I feel sitting here, knowing that you‟re possibly in danger?” We kept up a steady stream of back and forth until Nate sent, “Here comes Carl to the rescue.” I ―listened in‖ as Nate invited Carl to join him—evidently Carl had made a small food purchase—and by the time they were ready to leave the restaurant, I knew what the plan was. I stayed in touch lightly with Nate as he said good-bye to Carl, went to his car, and quickly got in the driver‘s seat. He locked the doors and proceeded to leave the restaurant parking lot, but he didn‘t go back out onto Emerson Street. Instead, he drove through the shopping center parking lot and prepared to exit onto Philips Highway. “They‟re right behind me,” he sent. “Where‟s Carl?” “In the police car right behind them—we‟re all waiting for the light. He and the driver just jumped out of the police car and walked up to the bad guys‟ car.” “Cool.” “Yeah. Carl and the uniformed guy are talking to the guys in the car now. Okay, he‟s motioned for me to join them, so here we go.”

I monitored Nate‘s conversation with Carl. ―Mr. Braddock,‖ Carl said when Nate was standing by him, ―do you recognize either of these men?‖ ―Yes, Sir. The one on the right is Walter Meadows, and he‘s a member of the same cult my mother and stepfather belong to.‖ ―Is that the cult whose members you have a restraining order against?‖ ―Yes, Sir, it is. The restraining order says that no member of that cult can come anywhere near me. I have a copy of it in my backpack.‖ ―They followed you to McDonald‘s from UNF, correct?‖ ―Yes, Sir. Well, I can‘t be sure that they were actually in the UNF parking lot, but they were definitely behind me on the access ramp from St. John‘s Bluff Road when I got on Turner Butler Boulevard.‖ ―That‘s all I need, Sir,‖ Carl said. ―Can you come to the sheriff‘s office in the morning and make a statement?‖ ―I can do it right now, if you like.‖ ―First thing in the morning will be fine, Sir. No need for you to have to deal with the rush-hour traffic.‖ ―Thank you, Sergeant. I don‘t have any classes tomorrow morning, so I‘ll see you then.‖ “You did good, babe,” I sent. “Great. Now, how the heck do I get home from here without doubling back?” “Just turn right onto Philips Highway—aka US-1. It‟ll merge into I-95 a couple of miles up, then you‟ll be back on familiar ground.” “Gotcha. I‟m gonna need some TLC when I get home.” “You know where to find me.” “In bed, I hope?” “Cute—and smart.”

Jacksonville, FL Monday afternoon—late

I WAS waiting in bed as promised when Nate got home, so he tossed his clothes onto a chair and crawled in bed next to me, snuggling as closely as he could. After a few minutes‘ cuddling, I said, ―Feel better now?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Nate, I have to say this—‖ ―I know,‖ he said, cutting me off, ―I‘d relaxed my guard and gotten careless.‖ ―And….‖ ―And it could have been bad.‖ Much later, we went downstairs in search of food; then we spent the rest of the evening trying to forget about anything other than the here and now. Nate and I went downtown to the sheriff‘s office first thing the next morning, and he spent thirty minutes giving Carl and one of his detectives the full story. When the interview was over, I asked Carl what was happening with the two guys he‘d arrested. ―It‘s interesting,‖ he said. ―The guy Nate identified has lawyered up, but the other guy is singing like the proverbial canary.‖ ―I wonder why?‖ ―My guess is that he‘s more terrified of going to jail for a long time than he is of the cult leader—it seems he was just along for the ride, more or less, and had no idea what he was going to get sucked into.‖ ―Thanks, Carl,‖ Nate said, ―you saved my life yesterday.‖

―Yeah, Carl,‖ I added, ―and I appreciate it more than you know.‖ ―It‘s part of my job, guys,‖ he said. When we got home, I sent an e-mail to Mitch bringing him up to date; then we spent the rest of the day driving around to as many of our new client‘s service stations as we could, making copious notes as we did. By five we were tired of running around and we were hungry, so we headed back to town from our last inspection, which had been up in Nassau County. ―How about lasagna?‖ I said. ―I don‘t feel like cooking.‖ ―Sounds good.‖ Even though we were going in the opposite direction from the rush-hour traffic, it took nearly half an hour to get to Five Points and the Pizza Italian. While we waited for our order, we were both making notes on yellow pads. ―I can‘t believe how much stuff we found in those stores,‖ Nate said, ―but how the heck are we gonna explain some of it?‖ ―Creative Writing 101.‖ ―Say what?‖ ―We use our imaginations, get creative, and come up with a logical explanation for how we discovered what we know.‖ ―That‘s gonna be a ton of work.‖ ―True, but it‘ll impress the heck out of Mr. Rinker.‖ ―Still gonna be a lot of work.‖ ―We‘re gonna be on the road to Chattanooga a good nine or ten hours tomorrow, and an equal amount of time on the way home after Thanksgiving—that‘ll give us time to work it out.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Chattanooga, TN Thanksgiving Day

BY

THE time Nate and I checked into our motel Wednesday night,

we‘d pretty much resolved our dilemma concerning the report for Mr.

Rinker. All that remained was to sit down at the computer and produce a formal report. Even though we arrived at the Wilsons‘ condo a little early, a cloud of wonderful food odors wafted into the hallway the minute Nate‘s grandfather opened the door. Later, as I munched on my pumpkin pie, I told Mrs. Wilson for the umpteenth time how great the meal had been. ―Thanks, Quentin,‖ she said. ―What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?‖ ―For the last several years, I‘ve gone to the covered-dish affair at The Church of the Good Shepherd, and it‘s really great.‖ ―I‘ve never heard of turkey as a covered dish,‖ she said. ―No, Ma‘am, it isn‘t. The turkey is cooked in the church kitchen, and the rest of the food is brought by those attending.‖ ―Sounds like a good idea,‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―It is, and it‘s a great occasion. It‘s not always the same crowd—I think some housewives like taking a year off from cooking a big meal once in a while.‖ ―Why don‘t you guys come down to Jacksonville next year and see for yourselves?‖ Nate said. ―We‘ve got plenty of room.‖ ―Nate,‖ Mr. Wilson said, ―it‘s been years since I‘ve driven that far, but thank you for the thought.‖ ―There‘s no need to drive,‖ Nate said, ―you could fly.‖ ―We‘ll think about it,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―Great.‖ ―Do you boys have to go home tomorrow?‖ she said. ―Right after lunch,‖ I said. ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―we‘ve got to visit twenty service stations scattered across several counties, and we‘ve set the weekend aside to do it.‖ ―I don‘t understand,‖ Mr. Wilson said. Nate and I took turns telling them about it, starting with his discovery of an incipient theft. ―Sounds like you‘re turning into a detective, Nate,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―I hope you‘re not going to give up on graduate school.‖

―No, Ma‘am, I‘m not. In fact, I‘ve pretty much decided to go for a doctorate after I finish my master‘s.‖ ―Are you still planning to teach?‖ Mr. Wilson said. ―Yes, Sir. Right now, I‘m looking at Episcopal High School, which is one of the best in Jacksonville, but I haven‘t ruled out teaching at the college level. In any case, I‘ll have time to assist Quentin—I kind of like it.‖ ―Nate,‖ I said, ―you probably ought to tell them what happened Monday.‖ ―Oh, yeah, I guess I should.‖ He went on to relate the story of being followed from school. ―Oh, dear,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―I just don‘t understand how our daughter got caught up in a cult like that.‖ ―If it makes you feel any better,‖ I said, ―people usually get drawn into cults because of some underlying problem—such as marital discord. Cults have a long history of preying on troubled people, and once they get caught up in the cult, it‘s very difficult to get them out.‖ ―It‘s Reggie‘s fault,‖ Nate said. ―He‘s the one who dragged her into all of that stuff.‖ ―They might as well know the rest of it,‖ I said. ―You mean about the real estate?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―This is a happy occasion, and I don‘t want to spoil it by talking about all of that any more—if you don‘t mind.‖ ―What real estate?‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―Can we just say that Mom and Reggie have purchased a ton of real estate with money they‘ve gotten from my trust fund, and leave it at that?‖ Nate said. ―I‘m suing them for an accounting.‖ ―Oh, my,‖ Mrs. Wilson said. ―That‘s terrible.‖ ―It is,‖ Nate said, ―and it isn‘t going to change because we sat here and worried about it all day. May I have another piece of that pumpkin pie?‖ ―With whipped cream?‖ ―You bet.‖

We returned to our hotel surfeited with food and made an early night of it. The next day, after a pleasant lunch—of leftovers, naturally—we headed home.

North Florida Friday night—late

AS WE approached the intersection of I-75 and I-10, Nate said, ―Are you sleepy?‖ ―Not even close. How about you?‖ ―Nope, and I‘ve had an idea.‖ ―Give.‖ ―I think one of our service stations is in Lake City, and there‘s another one in Macclenny, both of which are on our way home.‖ ―And we might as well stop by, right?‖ ―Why not?‖ ―Let‘s do it.‖ We found nothing amiss during our walk-through of the service station in Lake City, but the one in Macclenny was a different matter entirely. As soon as we were back in the car and underway, I said, ―I don‘t think what we just learned can wait ‘til Monday, can it?‖ ―Not on your life. You have an after-hours number for Mr. Rinker, don‘t you?‖ ―Yeah, and his home e-mail address. First thing in the morning, we‘ll download those pictures from your cell phone and compose an email.‖ ―Maybe we should write a book.‖ ―A book?‖ ―Catching Crooked Employees for Fun and Profit.‖ ―Yeah, but we could never explain our methods.‖ ―True. Ever wonder if there are more of us out there?‖ ―Babe, I wondered that all my life, right up until the time I rescued you.‖

―Okay, let me rephrase that—ever wonder how many more of us there are?‖ ―Not really, because there‘s too little information to go on.‖ ―Yeah.‖ We pulled into our garage a little after two, went straight upstairs, and crashed.

Jacksonville, FL Saturday morning

NATE and I were up at seven despite our late night, and by eight we‘d drafted an e-mail to Mr. Rinker with which we were both satisfied. ―Okay,‖ I said, ―pushing the button now.‖ As soon as the message was on its way, I called his cell phone and left a voice message telling him to check his e-mail. ―Are you too tired to swim some laps?‖ I said. ―Probably, but after all of Grandma‘s food, I think I‘d better.‖ ―Let‘s go, then.‖ We went to the Y, swam a brisk mile of laps, and when we settled down in the steam room, Nate said, ―I hate to say it, but that was invigorating.‖ ―Yeah. I really didn‘t think I had it in me to swim at that pace after so little sleep.‖ As we headed back down Riverside Avenue, I said, ―How about a healthy breakfast?‖ ―Okay, where?‖ ―Cool Moose Café. They have great muffins and stuff—of course they have unhealthy stuff also, but somehow I find it easier to resist temptation there than at the Derby House.‖ ―You‘re driving.‖ After breakfast, we drove down to Green Cove Springs and checked out two more service stations. Then we went across the St. Johns River and on to St. Augustine to go through two more.

―Ever been to St. Augustine?‖ I said as we left the second station. ―No.‖ ―It‘s a bit chilly to walk around the old quarter right now, but there are a couple of nice little restaurants where we can have a late lunch.‖ While we were eating, my cell phone rang. ―It‘s Mr. Rinker,‖ I said, and I took the call. ―What did he have to say?‖ Nate said after the call ended. ―Basically, he said that we‘re either very smart or extremely lucky, and he thanked us profusely for the information.‖ ―I guess that means he appreciated the e-mail and pictures?‖ ―Oh, yeah.‖ ―Cool.‖ ―You could have tuned in.‖ ―Yeah, but I like talking to you.‖ ―It‘s been a long day, following a short night. I think it‘s time to go home and crawl in bed.‖ ―But not to sleep—at least, not right away.‖ ―Bingo.‖ We were home an hour later and spent another pleasant hour before we finally drifted off to sleep. A few hours later, the ringing of Nate‘s cell phone woke us up. ―Who the hell can that be?‖ I said. ―I don‘t recognize the number, but it‘s the area code for Orlando.‖ ―Then you‘d better take the call. He answered the telephone, and I tuned in mentally, until he said, ―Thanks, we‘ll come down and have a look at it tomorrow. Who do I ask for at the fire department? … Thanks. I guess this means our taxfree exchange is off. Yeah.‖ ―Did you get all of that?‖ he said as soon as he finished writing the contact information on a pad. ―Yep. Those sons of bitches burned your house to the ground.‖ ―Bastards.‖ ―Good thing you insured it.‖

―Yeah.‖ ―I‘m sorry they had to wake up the Realtor in the middle of the night, but I‘m glad his sign was still in front of the house.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Think you can go back to sleep after all that excitement?‖ ―Maybe—if you can think of a way to relieve my tension.‖ ―Sounds like an invitation.‖

Orlando, FL Sunday afternoon ―WHAT a fucking mess,‖ I said. We were standing in the yard looking at what remained of Nate‘s house, waiting for the arrival of an arson investigator. ―You know what?‖ Nate said. ―What?‖ ―In a way, I‘m glad it‘s gone.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Lots of bad memories up in smoke.‖ ―I sort of agree, babe, but don‘t even think of saying anything like that to officialdom. Speaking of whom, here he is.‖ ―Understood.‖ A heavyset man in his forties got out of the car with the fire department logo on its side and walked over to where we were standing. ―Mr. Braddock?‖ he said. ―That‘s me,‖ Nate said. ―Jack O‘Sada,‖ the man said as he extended his hand. He looked at me. ―And you are?‖ ―My partner,‖ Nate said. I introduced myself and handed Mr. O‘Sada my card. ―Somebody doesn‘t like you very much, Mr. Braddock,‖ O‘Sada said. ―Any ideas?‖

―That crazy cult that my mom and stepfather belong to is behind this,‖ Nate said. ―There isn‘t a doubt in my mind.‖ ―Can you elaborate?‖ Nate and I took turns telling his story, up to and including the incident in Jacksonville last Monday. ―Anything else you can tell me?‖ ―Did we mention the fact that the FBI is investigating the various kidnappings?‖ Nate said. ―I don‘t think so. Tell me about it.‖ We did. ―I must say,‖ O‘Sada said, ―that you guys make a pretty convincing argument.‖ ―Yeah,‖ I said, ―but how in the hell are you gonna prove it?‖ ―You never know. These people sound like rank amateurs when it comes to arson, and amateurs are frequently careless.‖ ―Can you tell from the way the fire was started that they weren‘t pros?‖ Nate said. ―Absolutely.‖ We spent a few more minutes talking to the man. Then we thanked him and headed home.

Jacksonville, FL Monday morning

BEFORE Nate went to class, we spent some time composing a report about the arson to Mitch and attached it to an e-mail. Then we called the insurance company and arranged for an adjuster to take a look at the ruins of the house. ―Okay, babe,‖ I said when we were finished. ―That‘s all we can do for now—except perhaps one thing.‖ ―What?‖ ―You‘re gonna be getting a nice fat check from the insurance company, so we need to talk to Jim about the tax consequences of that, and to Rion about finding some rental properties for you—unless you just want to leave it in the bank earning almost nothing.‖ ―I don‘t want to leave it in the bank,‖ he said. ―What‘s left of my trust fund is already there, and it‘s not earning much.‖ ―First things first, then, and that would be spending a few minutes with Jim. As soon as you have an idea of how long the insurance company will take, you can take the next step.‖ ―That sounds like a plan.‖ Nate kissed me goodbye, and I settled down at my desk to write a couple of final reports for clients. Then I made a run to the post office, which necessitated a trip to the bank because there were two checks in the mail. I had just settled down at the kitchen counter to have a sandwich when Mitch called to invite Nate and me to lunch Saturday. ―What‘s the occasion?‖ I said. ―Does there have to be an occasion?‖ ―No, but there usually is, isn‘t there?‖

―You got me there. Some friends of ours from Orlando are going to be here for the weekend; one of them is a lawyer, and I think you and Nate need to meet him.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because he and I have had a couple of conversations about Nate‘s case against his parents, and this guy has come up with a better idea.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yeah, but you‘ll have to wait ‘til Saturday to find out what it is.‖ ―Tease.‖ ―So they tell me.‖ ―You got my e-mail about the fire, right?‖ ―Yes, and I hope that arson investigator finds something linking it to the cult.‖ ―Me too. Thanks.‖

Jacksonville, FL Saturday—noon

NATE and I parked on the street in front of Rion and Mitch‘s house a few minutes before the appointed time, walked up to the front porch, and rang the doorbell. ―I really like this house,‖ Nate said, ―with the porch and the columns and everything.‖ ―Yeah, it is nice, isn‘t it?‖ ―Why don‘t we look for one just like it?‖ ―Babe, we don‘t have that kind of money.‖ ―What about that insurance check?‖ ―But that‘s—‖ The opening of the door caught me in mid-protest, so I shut up. ―Hi, guys,‖ Mitch said. ―Come on in.‖ He ushered us into the living room and introduced us to Bill

Edmonds, a somewhat stocky guy in his late thirties. The other man in the room was the Realtor, Doug Samuels, whom we already knew. We settled down in comfortable chairs after the handshaking was finished. ―Where‘s Rion?‖ I said. ―Slaving over a hot stove.‖ ―Not at the moment,‖ Rion said from the arched doorway that led to the dining room. ―Glad you guys could make it.‖ ―How long before lunch will be ready?‖ Mitch said. ―Twenty minutes, why?‖ ―Because I was wondering whether to talk about legal stuff now, or wait until after we eat.‖ ―Go for it,‖ Rion said. ―Doug, why don‘t you join me in the kitchen while the lawyers do their thing?‖ ―Right behind you,‖ Doug said. They left the room, and we looked expectantly at Mitch and Bill. ―As I told you on the phone, Q,‖ Mitch said, ―Bill and I have been talking about Nate‘s case, and he has an idea.‖ ―We‘re all ears,‖ I said. ―Ditto,‖ Nate said. ―The thing of it is,‖ Bill said, ―that you‘ve demanded an accounting, and it‘s going to take forever, not to mention the fact that it‘s getting expensive.‖ ―No argument there,‖ Nate said. ―On the other hand,‖ Bill continued, ―from what Mitch has told me, I think you‘ve uncovered enough evidence to warrant the filing of criminal charges against your mother and stepfather.‖ ―I‘m with you so far,‖ Nate said, ―but where‘s the advantage?‖ ―As things stand, they have no real incentive to act quickly, and by all accounts, they‘ve used every delaying tactic their lawyer can think of; if criminal charges are filed, it becomes a matter of ‗cooperate or else‘, and that‘s one hell of an incentive.‖ ―Works for me,‖ Nate said. ―Even if it means your mother goes to jail?‖ ―She made her bed, right?‖

―Just wanted to be sure how determined you are.‖ ―In the beginning I might not have been so determined,‖ Nate said, ―but not now. Especially after they burned my house down.‖ ―So, Bill,‖ I said, ―how do we go about filing criminal charges?‖ ―I know a prosecutor in Orlando who‘s young and ambitious. I think if you were to contact him, give him the evidence you have, and sign a complaint—he‘d run with it.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Absolutely.‖ ―Will it bother him that the FBI is investigating the kidnappings?‖ I said. ―I shouldn‘t think so, given that we‘re talking about separate and unrelated issues. By that, I mean that the kidnappings were an organized activity of the cult, and the embezzling of money was the act of two individuals.‖ ―Good,‖ Nate said, ―let‘s do it.‖ Doug came back into the living room and said, ―The chef says to tell you guys that lunch is ready.‖ We followed him into the dining room and settled down to enjoy a nice lunch and interesting conversation. At one point, Nate said, ―Doug, I‘m sorry that the deal you put together fell apart when my house was burned down.‖ ―Don‘t worry about it, Nate,‖ he said. ―Deals fall through all the time, although I must say arson as a reason is a first for me. Are you going to rebuild the house?‖ ―No. I‘m probably going to invest the money.‖ ―What about the lot? It‘s in a prime location, and I‘ll be happy to list it for you.‖ ―Send me a contract and you can do just that.‖ ―Will we have to remove what‘s left of the house first?‖ I said. ―It would make the lot more desirable,‖ Doug said. ―There are people who do that sort of thing for a fee—I can give you some telephone numbers.‖ ―Thanks,‖ Nate said, ―I appreciate it.‖

We enjoyed our lunch, visited with our hosts and their other guests a bit afterward, thanked them, and headed home. On Monday we started putting things in motion, and two days later we had preliminary assurances from a prosecutor in Orlando that a case would be made—and filed.

Savannah, GA Monday—two weeks later

AROUND ten in the morning, I kissed Nate goodbye, and he headed off to school. Then I got in the pony car and headed for I-95. Two hours later I was in Savannah on a two-day mission for a client. I checked into a downtown motel, studied my maps, and went out to begin my investigation. By the time I crawled into my somewhat uncomfortable bed that evening, I was worn out, extremely cranky, and more than ready to make contact with my lover. “Nate, are you there?” I sent. “I‟m here. Where have you been?” “Earning every fucking penny of my per diem.” “Oops, sounds like someone‟s had a bad day.” “Yeah. Sorry, I didn‟t mean to take it out on you.” “That‟s what lovers are for, lover.” “How was your day?” “My classes were good, nobody followed me anywhere, and I‟ve got all of my homework done.” “That‟s great. By the way, you‟re coming through pretty good, considering the distance. Not nearly as strong as when we‟re merely across town from each other, but more than adequate.” “Yeah, so are you. How far is it to Savannah, anyhow?” “A hundred and forty miles, more or less.” “Cool.” “What are you doing at the moment?” “This.” He sent me an image of himself jerking off.

“Now that‟s enough to make this tired road warrior perk up.” I sent him an image of myself engaged in the same activity, and we talked our way to mutual orgasms.

Savannah, GA Tuesday

I HIT the ground running Tuesday morning, hoping that I could wrap up the case by the end of the day. Unfortunately, however, that wasn‘t in the cards, and I dragged my weary ass back to my motel room after dinner. A quick shower made me feel slightly more comfortable but did nothing to improve my mood. I spent an hour online doing further research; then I prepared a complete report for my client, attached it to an e-mail, and pushed the ―send‖ button. The glasses of wine I consumed during the process mellowed me more than a little bit, so I climbed into the lumpy bed, composed my thoughts, and contacted Nate. “Nate, are you there?” I sent. “Right here.” “Busy?” “I‟m in bed watching television and waiting to hear from you. When are you coming home?” “Damned if I know. I didn‟t learn a lot today, so I sent an e-mail to the client asking him if he wanted to authorize another day or two.” “Shit.” “Exactly. I wish you were here.” “Really?” “Yeah, I could take my frustrations out on your ass.” “That‟s not funny.” “Sorry, babe. I‟m tired and frustrated.” “Why don‟t we do something about that frustration?” An image of Nate lying naked and erect in bed hit me, and I forgot about my problems for a while.

When it was over, he sent, “Feel better now?” “You know I do.” “Good,” a much louder ―voice‖ literally screamed in my head. “Maybe I can get some sleep now. You guys need to learn how to shield yourselves properly—keep that stuff up and you‟ll have every telepath in three states horny—whether they‟re gay or straight.” “Who was that?” I sent. “Another telepath, obviously,” the stranger sent. “How many telepaths are there in three states?” Nate sent. “More than you think, and not all of them are friendly.” “You‟re coming in so strongly,” I sent, “you must be nearby.” “I‟m in a motel on I-95 just south of the South Carolina line.” “Can you actually see the images we‟re sharing?” “No, but I can hear the dialogue and feel the emotions, and they‟re just about as much as a straight guy can bear.” “Didn‟t you ever jerk off with a friend when you were in your teens?” I sent. “Of course, but that‟s hardly analogous to what you guys were doing.” “How can we shield ourselves?” Nate sent. “I‟m not sure I can explain it like this, but I could show you.” “You mean in person?” “Yes.” “I‟m in downtown Savannah.” “That much I already know from your conversation.” “If you‟re on I-95 and can take the time, I‟ll be more than happy to meet you for breakfast.” “Cracker Barrel, Exit 94, seven o‟clock,” the guy sent. “I‟ll be there.” “Goodnight, then.” “Nate.” “I‟m here.” “Go to your laptop.”

“Why? Oh, so we can be private, right?” “Bingo.” I went to the tiny desk and booted my laptop, and Nate and I exchanged several e-mails before we called it a night.

Savannah, GA Wednesday morning—early

I GOT up at oh dark hundred and was sitting in a rocking chair on the wide porch of the Cracker Barrel by six forty-five. At five minutes before the hour, a fat and balding man of fifty stepped onto the porch, and I somehow instantly knew that he was the other telepath. He must have sensed something as well, because he walked over to my chair and held out his hand. ―Gerald Bowersox,‖ he said, ―and you must be Quentin.‖ I stood, said, ―That I am,‖ and shook the proffered hand. “Shall we go inside and wait for a table?” he sent. “Sure. As of ten minutes ago there wasn‟t much of a line.” I followed him inside the restaurant, and a few minutes later we were seated at a small table in a far corner of the dining room. During the course of those few minutes, I learned that he was fifty-two, married, resided in Manhattan, and was on his way to St. Petersburg to visit an elderly aunt and uncle. “You‟ve got about a seven-hour drive ahead of you, then,” I sent. “I don‟t want to delay you.” “That‟s okay, this won‟t take long, and I had to eat anyhow.” We placed our orders, and by the time our waiter returned with them, he had shown me how to build a sort of tunnel around our flow of mind-to-mind conversation. “You can pass this knowledge along to your partner in minutes,” he sent. “Yeah, it‟s really simple, isn‟t it?” “That it is.”

“How did you learn to do that?” “The same way you did just now.” “You said something last night about not all telepaths being friendly.” “Some of them aren‟t.” “How so?” “They‟re kind of dangerous to people like themselves, that is, people like you and me.” “Why?” “Fear, mostly.” “Of what?” “That someone else will give our presence away.” “And what do they do about it?” “I can‟t prove this, but several telepaths whom I‟ve met and maintained fairly close contact with over the years have mysteriously disappeared.” “Really?” “Yes. One day they‟re there to make contact with, and the next day they‟re gone.” “Could they have died?” “Not all of them—this has been going on since I was quite young, and a number of the „disappeared‟, as I call them, were quite young themselves.” “Have you looked for obituaries and other records?” “That would be a good idea if any of us had ever exchanged our real names and locations, but we hadn‟t.” “That‟s not good.” “For sure, and that‟s why I‟m glad I was the one who „listened in‟ on your conversation last night.” “Yeah, me too.” “Do you know how incredibly lucky you are to have found a significant other who shares your gift?” “You bet I do. Is your wife…?” “Sadly, no. When I was twenty or so, I knew a girl who was

telepathic, but she wasn‟t really interested in me, and I somewhat foolishly let her get away.” “I‟m sorry to hear that.” “How did you and Nate meet?” I told him about the rescue and its aftermath. “Very lucky indeed,” he sent. He switched to normal speech. ―My breakfast is finished, and I‘ve got nearly four hundred miles of highway to cover.‖ I stood as he did and shook hands with him. ―Good to meet you, and thanks for all your help. Don‘t worry about the check—I‘ll put it on my expense account.‖ ―Thanks.‖ He turned and walked toward the exit. “By the way,” I sent, “I forgot to ask if there‟s a limit to the range of our abilities?” “If there is, I haven‟t found it, and I communicate with a friend in California from time to time.” “Thanks.” I sat down at the table and finished my breakfast—the conversation with Gerald Bowersox had been so fascinating that I‘d forgotten to eat. Breakfast finished, I took care of the check and headed back to my motel to check my e-mail. The minute I read what was waiting for me in my in-box, I went online and made a purchase. Then I sent an e-mail to Nate. “Nate,” I sent, “can you talk at the moment?” “Sure. I just got out of the shower. How did it go?” “Tell you later. I just sent you an e-mail—go read it right now and follow its instructions.” “What?” “Go… read e-mail… follow instructions… now.” “Yes, Sir.” A few minutes later, he sent, “See you then.” “Can‟t wait.” I made a quick pit stop in the bathroom, packed, and checked out of the motel. After a full morning spent working on the case, I pulled

up under the marquee of the Desoto Hilton Hotel, which was located in Savannah‘s historic district. ―Checking in, Sir?‖ the doorman said. ―Yes, I have a reservation.‖ Ten minutes later I was standing in a room on the eighth floor admiring its amenities and waiting for my bag to be brought to me. After that I had a nice lunch in the hotel restaurant, retrieved the car, and went back to work. A little before eight that evening, I was waiting in Savannah‘s Amtrak station when the northbound Silver Meteor pulled in. Nate was one of the two passengers who exited the train, and we hugged as though we hadn‘t seen each other in months. ―This was such a cool idea,‖ he said. ―Whatever made you think of it?‖ ―I wanted to see you, babe, and this was the only way I could accomplish that without both of us having to drive back to Jacksonville in separate cars. I suppose you could have taken a taxi to the airport and flown, but the timing of the train trip was better. And, I have to admit, the fact that I got an e-mail from the client asking me to do some additional digging gave me more incentive.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Did you eat?‖ ―I ate in the dining car, and it was just like when we went to the Chattanooga Choo Choo.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Well, the dining car wasn‘t Victorian, and the menu wasn‘t quite so fancy, but the experience was the same except for the motion of the train. Can we go to bed now? I don‘t care if it is lumpy.‖ ―As soon as we get to the hotel, which, by the way, isn‘t the one I‘ve been in for the last two nights. I‘ve moved to a different hotel, and I assure you the bed isn‘t lumpy.‖ ―Shut up and drive us there.‖ When I pulled into the parking lot, Nate read the sign and said, ―Isn‘t a Hilton gonna be kind of expensive?‖ ―Only the best for you, babe—I thought it would be a nice surprise.‖

―Speaking of surprises, I got one in the mail today.‖ ―What?‖ ―A check from the insurance company.‖ ―Wow! That was fast.‖ ―Yeah, and it‘s already in our joint account.‖ ―Babe, that money is yours.‖ ―Not another word or you‘ll make me mad.‖ ―Shutting up.‖ I escorted Nate into the room, hung the ―Do Not Disturb‖ sign on the outside of the door, and locked it. By the time I reached the bed, he was already naked and waiting. ―Eager little devil, aren‘t you?‖ ―It‘s been a long time.‖ ―Yeah, two whole nights.‖ ―Shut up and get out of those clothes.‖ ―Yes, Sir.‖ An hour later we were lying side by side, propped up on the kingsize pillows, and I said, ―God, I‘ve missed you.‖ ―Me too.‖ “Before I forget, I need to show you what Gerald taught me this morning.” “Gerald?” “The other telepath.” “Oh, him.” “Exactly.” A few minutes later, Nate said, ―And that‘s all there is to it?‖ ―According to him. Of course, there was no way to test it at the time—without a third telepath around.‖ ―Yeah. I‘m ready for round two, what about you?‖ I pointed at my groin. ―Need you ask?‖ Later, as we were pulling the bedspread off the bed and getting ready to call it a night, Nate said, ―What are we going to do for the next couple of days?‖

―Well, we‘re going to finish this investigation, and we‘re going to see Savannah, mostly at the client‘s expense.‖ ―Works for me. Ready to turn out the lights?‖ ―Sure.‖ In the darkened room, Nate snuggled up against me in the huge bed. ―I hate it when we‘re apart at night,‖ he said. ―I‘m not exactly thrilled about it myself.‖

Savannah, GA Thursday morning

EARLY Thursday morning I lay quietly in bed, spooned against Nate, thinking that waking up next to the warm body of someone you love is so much nicer than waking up in an empty bed. Someone you love. There, I‟ve said it—at least to myself. Maybe it‟s time to say it to Nate, as well. Meanwhile, my early morning erection was almost perfectly positioned against Nate‘s ass. Hmm…. Last night, despite Nate‘s predilection for oral sex, we had actually gone anal just before we went to sleep. Thinking that he was probably still well lubed from that activity, I pushed my hips slightly forward and slipped easily into the warm velvet embrace of his body. As I began to move in and out of the warmth, I reached around his waist and used my hand to do things to his early morning erection. He began to stir and wake up. “What a nice wake-up call,” he sent. “I woke up in the perfect position, so I didn‟t have to try very hard.” “Well, now that I‟m awake, why don‟t you try harder?” ―You‘ll enjoy it more if we can change positions.‖ ―Okay, but make it quick.‖ Later, when we were in the shower together, he said, ―I enjoyed my wake-up call.‖ ―Good. So did I.‖ ―Do you miss doing that?‖

―Doing wake-up calls?‖ ―No, fool. You know what I meant. Do you miss fucking?‖ ―We do it once in a while, and I‘ve always liked variety. That being said, it doesn‘t compare to the rapport we experience when we‘re in a sixty-nine position.‖ ―Yeah.‖ As we toweled ourselves dry, he said, ―What‘s on the agenda today?‖ ―I have four, no, make that five more people to locate and interview, but there‘s no reason why I can‘t spread the process over a couple of days. We can see what Savannah has to offer in between interviews.‖ ―Sounds good to me.‖ We spent Thursday and Friday following that outline—I located and interviewed five people for my client, and in between those interviews, Nate and I went on a guided tour of Savannah and tried several local restaurants. Friday evening, we found a nice little restaurant in the historic district, and I asked for the most secluded table in the room. We had a nice meal in the somewhat romantic setting, and as we ate our dessert, I broached a subject that had been on my mind since our first morning together in Savannah. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―there‘s something I‘ve been meaning to tell you.‖ ―I know.‖ ―You do?‖ ―Or course. I wasn‘t really asleep the other morning when you were thinking about it. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if you‘d forgotten to mention it.‖ ―You sly dog,‖ I said. ―I was just waiting for the right moment to say ‗I love you‘.‖ ―That‘s me, sly dog at your service. ―And for the record, I love you too.‖ Saturday morning we played tourist and explored Savannah‘s famous riverfront; then we checked out of our hotel and headed south on I-95.

Jacksonville, FL Sunday

WE

GOT back from Savannah late Saturday afternoon, and I spent

most of the early evening dealing with paperwork—accumulated mail, preparing reports, etcetera. Sunday morning we timed our arrival at the Y such that we would just have time to have a late breakfast at the Derby House before we went to church. As we were driving home from church, Nate said, ―Do you think I should buy a new car?‖ ―Does your car have any mechanical problems?‖ ―Not really, but it was a high-mileage used car when I bought it, and I‘ve put even more miles on it since then. I think it‘s time to trade it in before expensive things start needing to be fixed.‖ ―Were you thinking brand new or a low-mileage car of recent vintage?‖ ―I‘ve never had a brand new car, and I‘d like to do that at least once.‖ ―Are you ready to plunk down a huge amount of cash for a new car and have it take a big drop in value the minute you drive it off the dealer‘s lot?‖ ―I understand all that,‖ he said. ―Still, I think it‘d be cool to have a brand-new car.‖ ―Then go for it. You‘re not thinking Mustang, I hope?‖ ―Not really. Why?‖ ―Because we‘ve sort of invited your grandparents to fly down for Thanksgiving next year, and you‘ll need something a little more accommodating than a two-door car.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Have you given any thought to a small SUV?‖ ―You mean like an Edge or an Escape?‖

―Exactly.‖ ―I think the Edge is kind of cute,‖ he said. ―Now there‘s a good reason to buy a particular car.‖ ―Don‘t be sarcastic. I‘m serious.‖ ―Sorry, babe. Have you thought about other makes and models?‖ ―I want to buy American, and both GM and Chrysler took all that money from the government…. Let‘s go home and get my car, then we can go looking.‖ ―Is there enough availability in the account to write a check today?‖ ―Availability?‖ ―You deposited a huge check, but the bank may well have put a hold on some or all of it—the teller should have explained that to you when you deposited such a large check.‖ ―She might have mumbled something that I didn‘t understand.‖ ―And you didn‘t ask her to repeat herself?‖ ―I didn‘t think it was important. Can‘t we go online and look it up?‖ ―As soon as we get home.‖ By the time the garage door was halfway down, Nate was out of sight, and when I arrived in the den, he had the bank account information displayed on the computer screen. I looked over his shoulder and said, ―Looks like they gave you instant credit for about ten percent of the check and the rest will be held for a couple more days.‖ ―That sucks.‖ ―Babe, a lot of banks won‘t give you instant credit for a check that large—they‘ll make you wait ten days, and I mean ten business days.‖ ―The fact that it‘s from a major insurance company doesn‘t matter?‖ ―That‘s probably why they allowed you to have immediate use of ten percent.‖

―Let‘s go car shopping.‖ ―Where?‖ ―There‘s a Ford dealer on Cassat Avenue,‖ he said. ―You don‘t want to go there.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because they‘re a bunch of sharks. Trust me on this.‖ ―What about that big dealership on Blanding Boulevard just before you get to I-295?‖ ―They have a good reputation for taking care of their customers. Them, I would trust.‖ ―Is that where you bought your Mustang?‖ ―No, I bought it down in Green Cove Springs, but I‘ve taken it to the other place for repairs.‖ ―What are we waiting for?‖ ―Well, for one thing, if you‘re serious, you ought to get the title to your car out of the file cabinet and take it with you.‖ ―Oh, I‘m serious.‖ ―Can I make a suggestion?‖ ―Sure.‖ ―Before you buy a brand new model from this year, see if they have any leftover models from last year. They‘ll still be brand new and carry a new-car warranty, but because the new models are out, their price will have dropped big-time.‖ ―That‘s a good idea. What‘s the catch?‖ ―There‘s no catch, but since we‘re talking about leftover models from last year, the choices might be limited. On the other hand, most dealers have the ability to check with other dealers looking for a vehicle that will meet your specific requirements.‖ He had been rummaging through a file drawer while we talked. ―Here‘s the title,‖ he said. ―Let‘s go.‖ In the garage, I said, ―If you‘re serious about this, maybe you should remove all of the personal stuff from your car.‖ ―Yeah, let‘s.‖

Five minutes later, his car was empty of anything remotely personal, and we were on our way; four hours later, we pulled into our garage in a brand new Edge from the previous model year, and Nate was grinning from ear to ear. That evening I took him to dinner at Biscottis by way of celebration, and when we finally retired for the night, we had another kind of celebration.

Jacksonville, FL Monday morning

WE

HIT the ground running Monday morning, and by Wednesday,

we‘d finished visiting all of the service stations on our list for the month. That evening we sat looking at our schedule for the first quarter of the new year. ―We‘re gonna be busy,‖ Nate said as he examined the schedule. ―You think?‖ ―Anyhow, I just had a happy thought.‖ ―Which was?‖ ―We can go to Chattanooga for Christmas in the new car.‖ ―Works for me, but what it if snows up there?‖ ―What about it?‖ ―Babe, I‘ve never driven in snow. Have you?‖ ―No, but the car has all-wheel drive, and they salt the roads, or whatever, don‘t they?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Quentin,‖ Nate said, ―how long do you think all that legal stuff in Orlando will take?‖ ―Which legal stuff, the suit for an accounting, or the kidnapping case, or the criminal charges against your mother and stepfather? ―The stuff we turned over to the prosecutor.‖ ―I have no idea—it all depends on how much more information he thinks he has to have in order to make a case. Didn‘t you just get an update from him?‖ ―Yeah, but it didn‘t say much.‖ ―Babe, all we can do is wait and see.‖

―I guess so.‖ ―What‘s the rush?‖ ―There‘s not really a rush, it‘s just that I want all of this controversy behind me.‖ ―I can‘t fault you for wanting that, but you‘re still gonna have to wait and let things run their course.‖ Nate and I arrived in Chattanooga in late evening December 23 rd, spent the next two days with his grandparents, and drove home the following day. Mrs. Wilson outdid herself with Christmas dinner and served us leftovers the next evening before we returned to our hotel. The new year arrived, and with it the beginning of classes, and Nate knuckled down to a seriously heavy load of courses. During the second week of February, George and Mike came to see me by appointment on a Friday afternoon. ―Have a seat, guys,‖ I said, ―and tell me what‘s on your minds.‖ ―Thanks, Q,‖ George said. ―Yeah,‖ Mike said, ―one of us has to pick up Robbie from school in an hour, but this probably won‘t take that long.‖ There was a pause, so I decided to prompt them, saying, ―Well?‖ ―Quentin,‖ George said, ―do you ever work on a barter arrangement?‖ ―It‘s been known to happen, why?‖ ―Because there‘s something we‘d like to have you look into, but we can‘t really justify putting a lot of cash into it.‖ ―If not cash, what?‖ I said. ―How about a week in our mountain cabin,‖ George said, ―in exchange for some creative snooping in the area?‖ ―When?‖ ―In the spring, when it‘s warmer and things up there are turning green.‖ ―Look into what?‖ ―You‘re familiar with how we adopted Robbie, right?‖ George said. ―Only vaguely. Why don‘t you give it to me in twenty-five words

or less?‖ ―Sure. We arrived at the cabin and found him hiding in the shed that houses our emergency generator.‖ ―Babe,‖ Mike said, ―he was more than hiding. He‘d been living in it for about a week.‖ ―Yeah,‖ George said. ―He witnessed his father beating his mother to death and ran away. Our cabin wasn‘t too far down the creek from his parents‘ house.‖ ―Anyway,‖ Mike said, ―the kid bonded with us and we with him. His only living relative that anyone knew was his maternal grandmother, who is up in years and very ill. She signed off on the paperwork, and we adopted him.‖ ―What happened to his father?‖ I said. ―He was killed in a gun battle about a hundred miles east of where they lived,‖ George said. ―Robbie‘s father is believed to have relatives, but nobody seems to know who they are or what happened to them. The county looked for relatives at the time of the adoption, but I suspect they didn‘t have the resources to conduct an exhaustive search.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Mike said, ―nobody even came forward to claim the body.‖ ―George,‖ I said, ―surely you have the means at your office to do this kind of research.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Mike said, ―he does, but he‘s all ethical about it.‖ ―Mike,‖ George said, ―it would set a very bad example for a highranking police officer to use department resources for personal research.‖ ―Okay,‖ Mike said, ―you‘re right. And it‘s probably not a good idea for us to go looking for them, at least not openly—somebody might get the wrong idea.‖ ―That‘s true,‖ George said. ―We just want to know who and where they are so we can keep a discreet eye on them from afar.‖ ―I think I‘m missing something here,‖ I said. ―What‘s the problem?‖ ―The potential problem, as we see it,‖ George said, ―is that some

blood relative of his might step forward and try to undo the adoption. It‘s not at all unheard of for that sort of thing to happen, and two gay men are particularly vulnerable.‖ ―As we understand it,‖ Mike said, ―Robbie‘s mother knew the guy she married when she was in high school right there in Haywood County. She won a scholarship, went away to college, and ultimately began teaching over near Charlotte, I think. Eventually she moved back to Maggie Valley to teach so she could take care of her mother, who had become an invalid by then.‖ ―So,‖ George said, ―the old high school romance was rekindled, and she got married. Evidently his family had moved away by then, but he was still in the area.‖ ―What do you expect me to find by nosing around that county?‖ I said. ―Preferably,‖ George said, ―would be a list of names. Better still would be information as to their current whereabouts. We do know that his paternal grandparents moved away from that area long before Robbie was born, but nobody seems to know where they went, or why, and we don‘t know how many brothers and/or sisters his father might have had.‖ ―And if I do come up with a list of names and locations?‖ ―Then we‘ll ask you to give us a quote for looking into them,‖ Mike said, ―one or two at a time, depending on where they‘re living.‖ ―We just want to get a feel for who they are,‖ George said. ―It‘s possible that when Robbie‘s a little older, he might even want to meet them.‖ I decided at that point to do something that I almost never did, which was a little snooping in the brains of friends. I don‘t really know why I did it and was immediately ashamed of myself, because all I discovered was a genuine concern that Robbie‘s life would be disrupted in the event of any worst-case scenario. ―I have a question,‖ I said. ―What?‖ George said. ―You‘ve had Robbie for a while, so why are you getting worried

now?‖ ―Actually,‖ George said, ―this has been a sort of nagging concern all along, but until now it was on the back burner.‖ ―Until we watched that movie last week,‖ Mike said. ―Movie?‖ I parroted. ―One of those tearjerker made-for-TV movies,‖ George said, ―about adoptive parents who raised their adopted kid for years, only to have a blood relative pop up out of the woodwork and take the kid away from them.‖ ―Surely that doesn‘t happen in real life,‖ I said. ―Damn thing was supposedly based on a true story,‖ Mike said. Another quick mental probe revealed that these two self-assured men had in fact been deeply affected by the film. ―Okay, then,‖ I said. ―I‘ll do it. Probably when Nate has spring break—I‘ll have to wait until he gets home to find out just when that is. No, belay that. Give me a minute, and I‘ll look it up on the UNF website.‖ I turned to my computer, did a quick search, and gave them the dates. ―Great,‖ George said. ―We‘ll have the place well stocked with food—at least nonperishable food—and we‘ll pay for your gas.‖ ―You guys are serious about this, aren‘t you?‖ ―Very serious,‖ Mike said. ―Serious enough,‖ George said, ―to contemplate laying out a bunch of hard cash if it later becomes necessary for you to visit other cities. We want some peace of mind about this, and the only way to get it is to find out if there are any surprises out there waiting for us.‖ We spent another twenty minutes talking about what needed to be done, and they gave me a file containing all the information they had already compiled. That evening, when I told Nate about the trip to Maggie Valley, he said, ―Great, it‘ll keep my mind off all that legal crap while school‘s out.‖ ―Good, but meanwhile, you have work to do.‖ ―No shit. I‘ve got to get my master‘s thesis finished and handed in by the end of March.‖

―Why don‘t you set aside the week we‘re in the mountains to polish the final draft?‖ ―Yeah, that sounds good.‖ ―You‘re really worried about that court stuff, aren‘t you?‖ ―Wouldn‘t you be?‖ ―Nate, look at it this way: it‘s your mother, your stepfather, and the cult that are on trial, not you. Win, lose, or draw, your life will go on.‖ ―Yeah, but I hate to think of them getting away with my dad‘s money.‖ ―True, but what can you do about it?‖ ―Nothing.‖ ―Check. And will worrying about it change anything?‖ ―No.‖ ―Check. So why don‘t you put it out of your head?‖ ―Easy to say.‖ ―Yeah. Well, maybe I can take you upstairs and distract you for a bit.‖ ―You think?‖ Later, when we were still lying in bed, spooned together, I said, ―Feel better now?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Does the money really matter?‖ ―You know it doesn‘t. It‘s not the money, it‘s the idea of that fucker getting away with it and dragging Mom along with him.‖ ―I know, but you can‘t let something totally outside of your control rule your life.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Let‘s take a quick shower and drive down to Five Points.‖ ―Why?‖ ―I‘m in a lasagna kind of mood.‖ ―Sounds good.‖ When we walked into the Pizza Italian forty-five minutes later,

the first people we saw were George, Mike, and Robbie. Mike saw us and waved us over. ―Join us?‖ he said. ―Sure, looks like you haven‘t gotten your food yet,‖ I said. ―Just ordered five minutes ago,‖ George said. ―Hi, Robbie,‖ Nate said. ―How‘s school?‖ ―School is great. I got an A+ on a test today.‖ ―Good job,‖ Nate said. That little bit of encouragement was all it took to get Robbie in a talkative mood, and he and Nate carried on a conversation that segued from school to other topics throughout the rest of the meal—a conversation that pretty much excluded the rest of us. George commented on the conversation as we were leaving, saying, ―Nate, you seem to have a way with kids, maybe you should think about teaching.‖ ―I plan to teach,‖ Nate said, ―but only at the college level.‖ ―Why, if I may ask?‖ ―Because as a gay man, I wouldn‘t feel safe teaching younger kids—we‘re too vulnerable to false claims by vengeful kids. Surely, as a law-enforcement officer, you‘re aware of the problem.‖ ―That‘s true,‖ George said, ―and it‘s a damn shame.‖

Maggie Valley, NC Friday afternoon—March

NATE and I arrived in Maggie Valley in late afternoon, and, using the map George had given us, we easily found our way to their driveway. I pushed the buttons on the keypad, the gate opened, and we followed the concrete driveway down to a parking pad beside their cabin. They called it a cabin; I‘d call it a small house. The ground floor was of cinder block construction, and there was a people door next to a garage door. Stairs ran up the side of the ground floor, ending at a deck. ―Push the button,‖ Nate said. I took the garage door opener they had provided, pushed the button, and pulled Nate‘s car into the garage as soon as there was

sufficient clearance. ―I‘m glad they have a garage,‖ I said. ―It wouldn‘t do to have this nice new car sit out in the weather all the time.‖ ―It does that in the UNF parking lot every day,‖ Nate said. ―Yeah, but not at night. Let‘s have a look at this place.‖ We made our way from the garage into the house and saw stairs leading up. ―George said this used to be one large recreation room,‖ I said, ―but since they never used it, they added a couple of bedrooms downstairs.‖ ―Yeah, I remember. Come on, let‘s go upstairs.‖ I followed Nate up the steps and into a paneled great room. The second story was a modified A-frame design, and the front of the house was basically a wall of windows. ―This is so cool,‖ Nate said. ―I‘m going out onto the deck.‖ Once again, I followed Nate, and when we were standing on the deck looking down at the noisy little stream, I had to admit that it was impressive. “Impressive, hell,” Nate sent. “It‟s perfect, and we‟ve gotta have one just like it.” “Babe, that would be kind of expensive, wouldn‟t it?” “Did you forget about all that insurance money? I‟ve been wondering what to do with it, and now I know.” “Well….” “Well, nothing. I know you‟ve got to do some research while we‟re here, but we‟re also going to spend as much time as we can looking at property.” “Okay, but for right now, I think we need to unload the car and make a list of groceries.” “Didn‟t they leave groceries for us?” “Ever hear of perishables?” “Oh.” I led Nate back down to the car, and we quickly got our gear stowed in the master bedroom. ―Before I tackle the grocery list,‖ I said, ―I‘m going up to the loft and get the Internet connected.‖ ―That‘s right, he gave you a password, didn‘t he?‖

―Yep. You can make the grocery list if you like.‖ ―Sure.‖ I took my laptop upstairs and discovered a nice little loft, complete with desk, television, and what appeared to be a sleeper sofa. Following George‘s instructions, it didn‘t take me long to connect to their broadband service, and I sent him an e-mail letting him know that we had arrived and all was well. I also asked him for the name and number of their Realtor. “I‟m glad you‟re taking me seriously,” Nate sent. We had been in a light state of rapport, so he ―saw‖ through my eyes and mind what I was doing. “Of course I did.” “Good, because I want to find us a site just like this one, or as close to it as we can get.” I went down to the kitchen, added a few items to the shopping list, and we were off to Waynesville.

Maggie Valley, NC Sunday morning

WE SPENT Saturday morning exploring the area thoroughly, and both Nate and I were thoroughly impressed with very nearly everything we found. By Sunday we were driving through the area on the other side of Waynesville, west of US-276, which ran from Waynesville to Brevard and points south. We found several properties located on a number of side roads, making notes as we went. Nate grew increasingly excited with each new find, saying it was the ―best one yet.‖ ―Babe,‖ I said, ―they can‘t all be ‗best‘.‖ ―Yeah, I know, but this is so much fun.‖ ―Okay, let‘s go back to Waynesville, have lunch, and talk about what we‘ve seen.‖ ―Sure. Can we have lunch in that little bakery? I saw lots of goodies there.‖ ―Why not? You‘re behind the wheel at the moment, so go for it.‖ Half an hour later we were sitting at a small table, eating sandwiches and comparing the notes we had made while touring various parts of Haywood County. We finished our sandwiches without having made a decision, so I said, ―Okay, Nate, before we select one of those goodies in the display case for dessert, let‘s make a decision, or at least rate our choices in order of priority.‖ ―Okay. I like the area we just looked at, but it‘s a long way from town, so that would be my last choice.‖ ―Agreed. What about the area between Dellwood and I-40?‖ ―Next to last, I think.‖ ―No argument there, and that leaves Fie Top Road and Black Camp Gap Road.‖

―How about second and first choices respectively?‖ Nate asked. ―Works for me.‖ ―Good, can I have a Napoleon now?‖ ―Only if you‘ll share it—that‘s a ton of calories.‖ ―God, you drive a hard bargain.‖ ―That‘s me,‖ I said, ―Mr. Tough Negotiator.‖ Dessert out of the way, we returned to the car and headed back toward Maggie Valley, but instead of turning off onto Fie Top Road, which led to the cabin, we drove a mile further and turned onto a different side road. We followed it through Soco Valley and up the mountain until the asphalt surface changed to gravel. ―Let‘s open the windows,‖ Nate said, ―so we can listen for the sound of a stream.‖ ―Okay,‖ I said, and since I was driving, I ran both the driver and passenger windows down. ―Slow down,‖ he said. ―The crunch of the tires on gravel is so loud that I can‘t hear anything else.‖ ―Why don‘t we pull over and walk? That is, if I can find a safe spot to do that.‖ ―Yeah, that looks like a good spot up ahead.‖ He was right—there was a grassy area on the side of the road just wide enough to accommodate the car, so I pulled off the gravel, rolled up the windows, and killed the motor. The minute we exited the car, I heard the sound of rushing water over rocks. ―See,‖ Nate said, ―what did I tell you?‖ ―Okay, babe. You‘ve convinced me—let‘s hoof it for awhile.‖ So we walked slowly up the road, enjoying the greenery, each other‘s company, and the comforting sound of water rushing over rocks, even though we couldn‘t see the source of that sound. Eventually, we came to a sharp curve where the road followed the folds of the mountain. To our right, the terrain dropped off rather quickly, revealing a spectacular view of the valley below, and to our left, a small stream rushed out of the undergrowth and under the road through a culvert. ―Look,‖ Nate said, ―there‘s a ‗For Sale‘ sign.‖ ―So?‖ ―There‘s also a little path. Let‘s see where it leads.‖

―Alright, if that‘s what you want.‖ ―Quentin Q. Quasar,‖ he said, ―don‘t you dare get all condescending with me.‖ ―Okay, babe. Sorry.‖ We followed the barely discernible path up a fairly steep incline for perhaps a hundred feet, until it opened out into a sizeable glade surrounded by trees. As far as I could tell, the mountain went pretty much straight up (well, for all practical purposes, a forty-five degree angle is straight up) on two sides of the glen, and the little stream rushed down a somewhat more gentle slope at the back before running alongside the glade. ―Oh, my God,‖ Nate said. ―This is perfect. Isn‘t it perfect?‖ ―I‘ll have to admit, it‘s pretty nice.‖ ―Nice! Nice! Don‘t give me that shit, it‘s fucking perfect. Come on, let‘s explore a bit.‖ Nate‘s excitement was contagious, and we explored every inch of the glade, which, to my surprise, was perhaps half as long as a football field. We even made our way slowly up the mountain in back of it until the terrain became too steep, and Nate said, ―I wonder how far back the property extends?‖ ―I don‘t know, but there‘s one way to find out.‖ ―Yeah, let‘s go look at that sign.‖ ―Okay. Then we can go talk to the Realtor that George and Mike recommended.‖ ―Shit, I left my camera in the car.‖ ―Not to worry,‖ I said, ―we‘ll be back.‖ When we were once again standing on the road, Nate said, ―Look up there, I see a place where we can park a lot closer to the property.‖ I had to admit he was right: there was a sort of wide place on one side of the road that would probably allow a vehicle to pull totally off of the gravel. ―Okay,‖ I said. ―Let‘s head back to the car—we need something to write on and with.‖ ―That‘s okay, I‘ve already memorized the telephone number on the sign.‖ ―I thought you wanted to take some pictures.‖

―Yeah. Let‘s go.‖ We started walking back down the road, and Nate set such a rapid pace that we were back at the car in no time. He hopped into the driver‘s seat and gave me an expectant look. ―Aren‘t you coming?‖ he asked. ―Not until you promise me that you‘ll drive slowly and carefully back to that sign.‖ ―Okay, I promise. Now get in the car.‖ As soon as I had my seatbelt in place, he began to drive up the road at a fairly moderate pace. When we reached the property, he continued on to the pullover spot and managed to get the car safely off the road. ―Let‘s go take some pictures,‖ he said. He ran ahead with the camera while I took a pencil and notepad to write down the name and telephone number posted on the sign. When I looked at my cell phone, I was surprised to find that there was a decent signal, so I called George and Mike‘s Realtor. Like many Realtors, he was in his office on Sunday afternoon, and I gave him the information from the sign. He in turn said he would look the property up in his multiple-listing records and gave me directions to his office. Nate eventually came out of the woods and said, ―Where were you?‖ ―Babe, you didn‘t need my help taking pictures, besides which, I‘ve been busy.‖ ―Busy?‖ ―On the telephone. I just spoke to Hugh Williams, and by the time we get to his office, he‘ll have some information for us.‖ ―Who‘s Hugh Williams?‖ ―George and Mike‘s Realtor.‖ ―Oh.‖ ―Let‘s go.‖ This time I got behind the steering wheel, and we headed up the road. We had to go nearly half a mile before we found a place where we could safely turn around, and it took another thirty minutes to make our way back to the heart of Maggie Valley and Hugh‘s office. Williams turned out to be a good-looking thirtysomething, and after the introductions were made, he asked us to have a look at the

paperwork he had already spread out on his conference table. ―As it happens,‖ he said, ―I‘ve actually shown this property a couple of times, so I‘m familiar with it.‖ ―Why didn‘t it sell?‖ I said. ―There‘s never any way to answer that question for certain,‖ he said, ―and to be honest, I don‘t remember the particulars. I think one sale fell through because of financing problems, but in any case I have more information on that parcel than I would normally have on a listing that I didn‘t originate, including the survey.‖ Nate and I examined the survey carefully, and I said, ―I think we walked up the back of the property to about here.‖ I pointed to a spot on the survey. ―After that, it became too steep, considering how we were dressed.‖ ―If you build a cabin far enough up that slope,‖ Hugh said, ―you‘ll have a view that will probably extend across the tops of the trees to the valley beyond.‖ ―Yeah, but we wouldn‘t be able to drive up to the front door,‖ I said. ―I can show you two or three houses in the area where the house sits on the edge of a mountain, and the garage is recessed into the hill below, sometimes way below. One of them is right here in Maggie Valley. Somehow, people don‘t seem to mind climbing all of those steps.‖ We discussed the property at length, and Nate said, ―I want to make an offer on it today.‖ ―If you do that,‖ I said, ―you‘ll have to give Hugh a binder.‖ ―I‘ve got a checkbook in my pocket.‖ ―Then go for it.‖ When the paperwork was finished and the check written, Hugh said, ―By the way, if you buy that parcel and build on it, one of your neighbors is from Jacksonville.‖ ―Really?‖ I said. ―Yes. A couple named Tom Foster and Noah Webster. I sold them some land down the mountain a bit from this parcel, very close to where the road changes from asphalt to gravel, and they built a house

on it. Do you know them?‖ ―We go to the Episcopal Church where Tom is organist and choir director, and we‘ve met them socially a couple of times. They‘re also good friends of George and Mike‘s.‖ ―Okay,‖ he said. ―I‘ll make the call and get back to you.‖ ―Good,‖ Nate said. ―You‘ve got our cell phone numbers, but we don‘t get a signal where we‘re staying.‖ ―True,‖ I said, ―but we‘ll check the voice mail when we‘re out and about, and that‘s gonna be quite a bit over the next few days.‖ ―Anything else I can do for you guys this afternoon?‖ Hugh asked. ―Yeah,‖ Nate said. ―Where‘s the nearest Barnes & Noble?‖ ―It‘s over in Asheville and it‘s easy to find.‖ Hugh gave us some directions, and we left him to make the call. ―Barnes & Noble?‖ I asked Nate when we were in the car. ―You bet. I wanta go there right now.‖ ―Okay, but why?‖ ―Because they have tons of books containing plans for vacation homes.‖ ―Gotcha.‖ Following Hugh‘s directions, I located one of the two Barnes & Noble stores in Asheville. In the store, I settled down in a comfortable chair while a still-excited Nate brought me stacks of books. Not wanting to yell at him, I resorted to a more private means of communication. “Nate,” I sent, “you‟re overdoing it. It‟ll take us the rest of the day to look through all of these.” “All we‟re going to do is skim through them, then I‟m gonna buy three or four of the best.” “Well, if you‟re going to spend that much time at it, why don‟t you go get us something to drink from the café?” “On it.” He brought me a cup of flavored iced tea, and I settled down to skim through the books. I actually got so engrossed in them that I barely noticed anything around me until Nate said, ―Look at this one,‖ handing me an open book.

I scanned the page quickly and said, ―Yeah, that looks good.‖ ―This book is a keeper, so I‘ll set it aside.‖ ―How about this one?‖ I said. And so it went for quite a while. When he had a stack of six books in front of him, he said, ―I‘m ready when you are.‖ ―I thought you were going to limit yourself to four books? That‘s a lot of money.‖ “Quentin,” he sent, “don‟t spoil this for me. Besides, when have you known me to spend money recklessly? And don‟t mention my car—I had to scrimp and save money from my part-time job in order to buy my old car, and I look at the new car as an investment in trouble-free driving.” “Ya got me there, babe. Okay, let‟s check out of here and go find something to eat.” In the parking lot, Nate said, ―You drive. I wanta look at these books.‖ ―Sure. Do you want to eat here in Asheville or wait until we‘re back in Maggie Valley?‖ ―Unless you‘re desperate to eat, I‘d kind of like to try that barbecue restaurant we saw over there.‖ ―Sounds good to me.‖ By the time we reached the restaurant, Nate had gone through two of the books and left both of them with numerous dog-eared pages for me to inspect later. I had to put my foot down when he tried to take them into the restaurant with us. ―Nate,‖ I said, ―enough already. You‘ve got the rest of the evening and for that matter the rest of the week, if need be. Let‘s just enjoy a nice meal, okay?‖ ―Yeah, I guess you‘re right.‖ ―You know I‘m right. Now let‘s go inside and have some barbecue.‖ Our table in the little restaurant was on what amounted to a screened-in porch. The walls came up to roughly table height, with screen above. Somewhere below us and a few feet away, we could hear Jonathan Creek tumbling over rocks. ―It‘s a little chilly right now for semi-outdoor dining,‖ I said, ―but this would be wonderful in the

summer.‖ ―Yeah. Did you see the size of the helpings on those plates at the next table?‖ ―Yep.‖ An hour later we were back at the cabin, where Nate quickly spread the books of vacation homes out on the kitchen table and continued his research. ―You look at the ones I‘ve been through and marked,‖ he said. ―Okay, but not until I‘ve opened a bottle of wine.‖ By the time we called it a night, we had narrowed our selections down to three homes, all of them featuring modified A-frame designs not unlike George and Mike‘s house. ―I can see us sitting on the deck of any one of these,‖ Nate said, ―looking out across the valley.‖ ―Babe, we don‘t know for sure that we‘ll be able to ‗look out across‘ anything.‖ ―Why not? The path to the glade went up a pretty good slope, as did the glade itself, and we must have gained another hundred feet in elevation when we walked up the mountain behind the glade. I don‘t want to take out a lot of trees–just enough to give us a view.‖ ―I think I‘ll reserve judgment on that until I‘ve walked around the property with someone who knows how to relate that survey to what we see on the ground.‖ ―Party pooper.‖ ―Yeah, that‘s me. Seriously, Nate, I‘m all for this acquisition, but I don‘t want to rush into something until we have all the facts at our disposal.‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―And there‘s something else we talked about, but never followed up on.‖ ―What‘s that?‖ ―We never gave Mitch a go-ahead on our wills and powers of attorney and such.‖ ―So?‖ ―Babe, that‘s got to be the first thing we do when we get home. You don‘t want to acquire this property, build a house, and have to

worry about your mother and Reggie getting their hands on it should something happen to you, do you?‖ ―Of course not.‖ ―Then paperwork it is. In fact, let‘s send Mitch an e-mail right now and ask him to have the paperwork ready for us by the time we get home.‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense.‖ ―Right now I think it‘s time to go down the hall and celebrate. We haven‘t used the bed since we got up this morning.‖ ―Race you.‖

Waynesville, NC Monday

MONDAY morning we hit the ground running. After a huge breakfast at a local restaurant, we headed for the high school in Waynesville from which both of Robbie‘s parents had graduated. In the school library, we located the school‘s yearbook for that year and the year before and looked them over carefully. Using my laptop, I recorded the names of every member of their graduating class, while Nate looked through another copy for the same year to see what kind of activities Robbie‘s father might have been involved in. Satisfied that I had all the information that could be gleaned from that source, we went to the county courthouse to do some serious digging. Our search in the courthouse was interrupted by the ringing of Nate‘s cell phone. ―It‘s about time,‖ he said, as he answered the call. A glance at the local area code showing in the display told me it had to be the Realtor, and I listened as Nate said, ―I‘ll meet them halfway. Thanks.‖ He was grinning when he ended the call. ―Hugh thinks we‘ll have an answer by the end of the day.‖ ―Cool. We can talk about it over lunch, which I‘ll be ready for in another thirty minutes or so.‖ We had lunch at McDonald‘s so we could use the free Wi-Fi and check our e-mail accounts. ―Before you check your e-mail,‖ I said, ―have a look at this message from Mike.‖ I moved the laptop around so that he could see the screen. ―Whoa! This has the names of recommended contractors.‖ ―Yeah, the concrete guy, Randy, is the one who did George and Mike‘s driveway, and the first contractor on the list is the one who built

Tom and Noah‘s house.‖ ―I wish they were up here so we could see it.‖ ―Read on.‖ ―Oh, I see. Noah‘s brother and his boyfriend are students at UNF and are here this week for spring break. All we have to do is call them and we can have a look at the house.‖ ―There you go. He even included cell phone numbers.‖ ―Have we met them?‖ ―Yeah. They both sing in the choir at Good Shepherd, remember?‖ ―Sort of. I‘ve met so many people since we‘ve been together it‘s hard to sort them out.‖ ―Which reminds me of something—we‘re rapidly approaching a one-year anniversary.‖ ―That‘s true. Whatever shall we do to celebrate?‖ “Well,” I sent, “we could do this… or this… or—” “Stop, you‟re gonna make me blush, sending me those images in public.” “What‟s public? Unless there‟s another telepath around, and even if there were any, we‟re totally shielded from them thanks to Gerald.” ―Wait a minute. When did you tell Mike about what we‘re doing?‖ ―I sent him an e-mail this morning. If anyone knows what contractors to trust in this area, it ought to be George and Mike.‖ ―And I thought you were dragging your feet with this.‖ ―Don‘t know whatever gave you that idea. Are you through with the computer? ―Yeah, why?‖ ―Because I‘m gonna shut it down. I‘ve finished my lunch, haven‘t you finished yours?‖ ―Now that you mention it, I have.‖ ―Then let‘s get back to work.‖ ―What‘s next on the list?‖

―Newspaper archives. I want to look at the stories in the local paper around the time Robbie‘s father was killed. George said the guy was buried in a pauper‘s grave in the county where the gun battle took place, because nobody claimed the body.‖ ―What a charming family,‖ Nate said. ―Yeah. As far as anyone can tell, Robbie‘s genes seem to have mostly come from his mother‘s family, and given what we know, that‘s a very good thing indeed.‖ Nate‘s cell phone rang on the way to the newspaper office, and he said, ―It‘s Hugh.‖ ―Don‘t talk about it, answer it.‖ He was grinning from ear to ear when the call ended. ―The property is ours.‖ ―Cool. Did Hugh say when we might be able to close on it?‖ ―In a couple of weeks.‖ ―Great. That gives us time to get all the paperwork done.‖ ―What paperwork?‖ ―The documents that Mitch is preparing,‖ I said. ―Oh, yeah. I agree.‖ ―Good, can we get on with the job at hand now?‖ ―Can I take time to call Noah‘s brother first?‖ ―Knock yourself out.‖ By the time I located the newspaper office and pulled into a parking place, Nate had completed the call, so I asked, ―Well?‖ ―Weren‘t you listening?‖ ―No, I was focused on finding this building.‖ ―Bobby‘s boyfriend Tim loves to cook, and we‘re invited over there to dinner tomorrow evening.‖ ―Sounds good. Let‘s go look at some old newspapers on microfilm.‖ ―How‘re we gonna do this?‖ ―Well, if they have two microfilm readers, we can divide the work. If not, it‘s gonna take a while.‖ As it happened, the newspaper only had one microfilm reader, but

a very helpful young clerk with a cute accent told us that not only did the local library have a complete collection of newspaper back issues on film, they also had several readers. I thanked her, and Nate and I went in search of the library. We found it, and after a couple of hours spent reading through the reels of microfilm, our eyes were beginning to cross, so we called it a day. ―Are you sure it‘s okay to stop?‖ Nate asked when I suggested we should. ―Of course. It‘ll take me a couple of hours this evening just to organize all the data we‘ve gathered today. We can come back here tomorrow, if need be.‖ ―Good, because I‘m ready to sit on the deck and listen to the stream for a while, even if I have to bundle up to do it. I‘ll go inside and work on my thesis when it gets dark.‖ ―No argument there. Let‘s go.‖ When we arrived back at the cabin, the sun was already behind the mountain, leaving the deck in shadow. Shadow notwithstanding, we settled down to enjoy the sound of the stream for awhile but were finally driven inside by the falling temperature. ―Are you ready to help me fix our supper?‖ I asked Nate. ―You bet.‖ ―Good. I want to get that out of the way so I can organize all that data we spent the day collecting.‖ ―If you want to get a head start on that, I don‘t mind cooking.‖ ―Great. Call me downstairs when it‘s ready.‖ Without waiting for a reply, I took my laptop and my folder of notes up to the loft and settled down at the desk. Sometime later, I was jolted out of my deep concentration by a pair of arms snaking around my chest from behind. ―Supper‘s ready,‖ Nate whispered into my ear. ―You‘re gonna have to wait a few minutes for my heart to stop racing. You scared the shit out of me.‖ ―Sorry. How‘s it going?‖ ―Very well, actually. In fact, I think I‘ll be ready to write a report for George and Mike by this time tomorrow.‖

―Cool. Now come downstairs and eat.‖ ―After you.‖ We finished our meal and cleaned up the kitchen. ―You know what,‖ I said, ―let‘s lock up and call it a night.‖ ―What about your paperwork?‖ ―It‘ll still be there tomorrow, and so will my thesis.‖ ―Race you.‖

Waynesville, NC Tuesday

TUESDAY morning we had a light breakfast at the cabin, having decided that we couldn‘t afford the calories at a restaurant. We arrived at the library shortly after it opened, and were through scanning old newspapers well before lunchtime, so we decided to drive over to Asheville for lunch. I had purchased a current copy of the Waynesville newspaper from a vending machine and carried it into the restaurant with me. While we were waiting for our food to arrive, Nate and I each took a section of the paper and began to look through it. I was engrossed in an article about an about-to-be-bankrupt local developer when Nate said, ―Have a look at this.‖ I set my portion of the newspaper on the seat beside me (we were in a booth) and asked, ―Look at what?‖ ―This.‖ He handed me a folded section of the newspaper, pointing at a headline article. ―It‘s a story about a high school class having its twentieth reunion.‖ ―Yeah, and look at what class it is.‖ ―Wow! It‘s the class we‘ve been looking at, isn‘t it?‖ ―Yeah, and I‘ll bet the people organizing that reunion would be a goldmine of information,‖ he said, ―and the article has a contact number.‖ ―You‘re probably right—provided they‘ll talk to us. That was

good detecting.‖ ―Thanks. I‘ll expect a suitable reward when we get back to the cabin.‖ ―Before I call that contact number, we need to come up with a plausible reason for asking a bunch of questions.‖ ―Yeah. Let‘s go back to the cabin and talk about it in bed.‖ ―We can do that, but we need to do something else first.‖ ―What?‖ ―Purchase a nice bottle of wine to take with us to dinner this evening.‖ ―We saw a big wine shop on the way from downtown Asheville to Biltmore Village, didn‘t we?‖ ―That we did. Let‘s see if we can find it again.‖ The wine shop was on Biltmore Avenue, just where we remembered seeing it, and I purchased a nice bottle of Cabernet to take to dinner, along with a mixed case of wine for our use at the cabin and to leave for George and Mike. ―What‘s the case of wine for?‖ Nate said. ―To say thank you for the use of the cabin.‖ ―Yeah, that would be the nice thing to do.‖

WE

ARRIVED at Tom and Noah‘s gate at the appointed time and

entered the code Nate had been given. When the gate opened, we drove slowly up the concrete driveway, which changed to gravel after a short distance. The driveway followed a nice little stream up through a narrow defile, which curved a bit before opening into a sizeable meadow that seemed to be full of wild flowers blooming profusely. The field rose gently, and at the far end we could see an impressive house that appeared to be constructed mostly of native stone. Like George and Mike‘s cabin, the second story was of an A-frame design. ―Oh, wow!‖ Nate said. ―That‘s awesome.‖ ―It is pretty spectacular, isn‘t it?‖ When we pulled up onto the parking pad in front of the garage

door, we saw our hosts standing on the deck at the head of a flight of steps. Bobby Webster was a good-looking blond with arresting blue eyes, and Tim Hopkins was about his height and build, but with a jetblack crew cut. We shook hands all around and chatted pleasantly about Good Shepherd for a minute; then Bobby said, ―Why don‘t I show you around the outside of the house while there‘s still plenty of daylight.‖ ―I‘ll put the wine in the fridge while you do that,‖ Tim said. ―It‘ll go very well with our dinner.‖ ―The deck across the front and around the sides of the house isn‘t very big,‖ Bobby said as he led us to one corner, ―but the back deck more than makes up for it.‖ When we reached the back of the house, we saw what he meant— a huge deck extended a good fifteen feet from the back of the house, and we could see a somewhat smaller deck above it. Bobby noticed me looking up and said, ―The master bedroom opens out onto that deck.‖ Behind the house, the stream tumbled down the mountain in a series of cascades which ended in a wide pool before continuing to flow along the edge of the property. Rocks had been stacked along the edge of the pool to make it deeper, and Nate said, ―How deep is that pool?‖ ―Not deep enough for swimming,‖ Bobby said. ―It‘s knee-deep in the middle and very cold.‖ Tim, who had come onto the deck from the back door in time to hear Bobby‘s remark, said, ―Yeah, Bobby and I‘ve been skinny-dipping in it a couple of times, and it‘s so cold your balls shrivel up and disappear. Why don‘t you guys come inside where it‘s warmer?‖ Tim led us into the house through the back door, which opened onto a hall. He pointed out two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a den before the hallway ended in the kitchen/dining area. Just ahead of us was a huge great room, which, like George and Mike‘s great room, featured windows across the front. ―Before we sit down with a glass of wine,‖ Bobby said, ―let me take you upstairs and show you the master suite.‖ An open flight of stairs led up to the loft area, and we were extremely impressed by the size of the master bedroom. Patio doors

opened out onto the little private deck, and the sound from the waterfall carried right through the open door. The master bathroom was impressive in size, and the huge tiled shower looked inviting. ―This is great,‖ Nate said, ―isn‘t it?‖ ―Absolutely, and the whole house sort of reminds me of one of the designs on our short list of plans.‖ ―Yeah, it does, now that you mention it.‖ ―It sounds like you guys are doing the same thing Tom and Noah did,‖ Bobby said. ―You mean selecting plans from a book?‖ ―Yeah. They bought several books, found a plan they liked, then had an architect make a few changes.‖ ―Great minds,‖ I said. ―How far up the road is your property?‖ Tim said. ―It‘s hard to estimate what with all those twists and turns of the road, so I can‘t tell you precisely,‖ I said, ―but maybe a mile or two.‖ ―It‘s not ours yet,‖ Nate said, ―but we expect to close on it in a couple of weeks.‖ ―And from what I‘ve seen so far,‖ I said, ―we definitely want to talk to the contractor who built this house.‖ We had a great time with our hosts. Tim was an amazing cook, and we told him so over dinner. ―Thanks,‖ Tim said. ―Tom and Noah both say they‘re gonna miss Bobby and me when we start law school in Gainesville this fall.‖ ―That‘s because Tim and I provide the groceries and the cooking in lieu of rent and utilities,‖ Bobby said. ―We‘re going to live with Bobby‘s grandparents in Gainesville,‖ Tim said. ―Mrs. Walker is a superb cook, and I hope to learn a lot from her over the next three years.‖ ―It must be nice to have such an accepting family,‖ Nate said. ―The ‗accepting‘ part is only on Mom‘s side of the family,‖ Bobby said. ―My paternal grandparents are die-hard Southern Baptists, and so was my dad. It was bad enough when Noah came out to them, but when I told Dad he had two gay sons, all hell broke loose. Dad got drunk and tried to kill Tom and Noah a few days after that, because he

blamed them for corrupting me.‖ ―I didn‘t know that,‖ I said. ―Yeah. They had just moved into their current home, and the old house was rented out. My dad shot one of the tenants, and the other one shot and killed Dad.‖ ―That happened right before Bobby and I met,‖ Tim said, ―and it was a wild ride for a while, let me tell you.‖ The sudden shift to the subject of unforgiving families prompted Nate to relate the story of his kidnapping and rescue by me, and he and Bobby spent a few minutes swapping horror stories about their respective families. I looked at Tim, and he shrugged, as if to say, ―What can you do?‖ After a while, I said, ―Okay, guys, can we switch the conversation to a happier note?‖ ―Yeah,‖ Tim said. ―Please?‖ We really enjoyed our visit, and it was quite late when we headed back down the mountain. Nate summed the evening up, saying, ―Too bad those guys are moving to Gainesville. I‘d enjoy going to a movie or something with them back home.‖ ―I agree. On the other hand, we know a few couples and will meet many more, I‘m sure.‖ ―Did you check them out?‖ ―Check them out? Oh, you mean, snoop?‖ ―Yeah, did you?‖ ―Just long enough to determine that they are what they appear to be—a nice gay couple bent on getting an education.‖ ―Yeah, that‘s the impression I got, also.‖

Maggie Valley, NC Saturday

WE

WERE sitting on the deck, sipping our morning coffee and

enjoying the sound of the stream, and Nate said, ―I‘m gonna miss this place.‖ ―That makes two of us,‖ I said, ―but remember, we‘ll be back in a couple of weeks to close on our property and set things in motion.‖ ―Yeah, there is that to look forward to.‖ It had been a busy three days, during which we had finished the research and I had prepared a final report to give George and Mike; we‘d selected a house design and a contractor, and the contractor had agreed to modify the plans to suit our specifications; and we had met with George‘s good old boy concrete guy, Randy, to discuss the installation of a gate and a driveway. ―You want the driveway to go straight up the middle of the property to the house?‖ Randy asked as we stood on the road in front of the property. ―No, Sir,‖ Nate said. ―We want it off to one side, so that you won‘t actually be able to see the house from the road.‖ ―And,‖ I said, ―we want to keep as many trees as possible.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Nate said, ―the driveway will have to be wide enough for the contractor‘s trucks to get onto the property, but no wider.‖ ―I can handle that. Let‘s walk up to where the house will be.‖ When we were standing at the far edge of the glen looking up at the proposed building site, we explained our idea that the garage would have to be at the foot of the hill because of the grade. ―I don‘t think you need to do that,‖ Randy said.

―Really?‖ Nate said. ―Yeah. Look here, just start a little driveway over there at the edge of the glen and run it gradually up to the house. When they clear ground for the house, they‘re gonna have to prepare a level space— make that space a bit bigger and you‘ve got room for a parking pad.‖ ―Would the driveway have to be concrete?‖ ―Are you gonna be up here in the winter when we have snow and ice?‖ ―Probably.‖ ―Then concrete would be best, but it don‘t even have to be solid concrete. Just two strips of concrete. Any visitors are gonna have to park at the edge of the glen and climb steps, so the driveway will only be used by you guys. Plant a few shrubs on this side of it, and it won‘t even be noticed.‖ ―Sounds good,‖ I said. ―I agree,‖ Nate said. We‘d picked up Bobby and Tim one morning and shown them the property; then we had gone to lunch together at a restaurant down on US-19. And we had made tentative plans to get together with them in Jacksonville at some point. ―What time do you want to leave in the morning?‖ Nate said. ―I‘d like to be on the road pretty early, but I think we need to get up early, strip the bed, and run the sheets and towels we‘ve used through the laundry.‖ ―Will they all fit in one load?‖ ―Sure—remember, we did a load of towels yesterday,‖ I said. ―No problem—that‘ll only take a couple of hours. If we get up early and start the load, it‘ll be done by the time we get back from breakfast.‖ ―You don‘t want to have breakfast here?‖ ―Not if we clean the kitchen before we go to bed tonight.‖ ―Yeah,‖ I said. ―Is there anything special you‘d like to do today?‖ ―I‘d like to brush up on Creative Loafing 101, if you don‘t mind.‖ ―Works for me, if we can include a relaxing horizontal interlude.‖

―Only one?‖ ―I didn‘t want to sound greedy,‖ I said. ―One thing, though— before we start creatively loafing, we need to clean this place thoroughly.‖ ―That won‘t take long.‖ We followed our plan Sunday morning and were at a local restaurant when the doors opened. Sitting across the booth from Nate, I sensed that he was starting to get a bit depressed. ―Why so glum?‖ ―I don‘t want to leave this place.‖ ―Look at it this way—we‘ll be back.‖ ―It‘s not just that—think of all the stuff waiting for us, what with the kidnapping case and everything.‖ ―Babe, as far as the kidnapping case goes, you‘re one of the victims and should be looking forward to seeing the bad guys behind bars.‖ ―Yes, but….‖ “But nothing,” I sent. “I know, you‟re thinking about your mom and stepfather and all that stuff.” “Yeah, I am.” “Look on the bright side.” “The bright side?” “We have each other, we‟re about to build a house together, you‟re about to finish your master‟s, and you recovered what was left of your trust fund. I know this is easier said than done, but even if nothing comes of all that litigation, we still have a great life to look forward to, don‟t we?” “Well, when you put it that way….” “Damn straight. Now finish your breakfast so we can go back to the cabin, put the clothes in the dryer, and hit the road.” We were on the road an hour later, heading home.

Jacksonville, FL Monday

MONDAY was a busy day, which was not surprising—the first day back at my desk after an extended absence is always busy. Nate went to school, and I settled down at my desk and beavered steadily away at a week‘s accumulation of stuff. Shortly after lunch, George and Mike came to see me, and I handed each of them a copy of my report. ―Let me give you the short version,‖ I said. ―Robbie‘s biological father had one brother and two sisters, all of whom were older than he. The family moved to Texas the summer after Robbie‘s father graduated from high school, and he‘s the only one who returned to Haywood County. The rest of them are still in Texas. ―The older brother is on his fourth wife, and is paying child support to all three of his ex-wives, and both of the sisters are in their second marriages and living barely above the poverty level. Oh, yes, both of Robbie‘s paternal grandparents are dead. ―My report details the various local sources I consulted, as well as the online sources. As far as the local sources go, the fact that the high school class both of Robbie‘s parents belonged to was planning a twenty-year reunion was a godsend—the woman in charge loves to gossip, and the death of Robbie‘s father in a shootout with deputies was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to any of her classmates. Bottom line: I don‘t think you have anything to worry about. And, if I may be so bold, I don‘t think Robbie needs to either know about, or have anything to do with, any of his relatives.‖ ―Thanks, Q,‖ George said. ―That‘s a load off our minds.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Mike said, ―one less thing to worry about.‖

―Now,‖ George said, ―tell us about the property you‘re buying.‖ I told them in some detail, complete with a display of the pictures stored on my laptop. ―When do you close?‖ Mike asked. ―In a couple of weeks.‖ ―Are you going to have the paperwork sent to Jacksonville?‖ George asked. ―Are you kidding? Nate‘s much too excited for that—we‘ll go to Waynesville for the closing and stick around just long enough to get the contractor going.‖ ―Let us know the date, and you‘ll have a place to stay.‖ ―Thanks, I will.‖ After George and Mike left, I went back to the post office to pick up two items that required signatures, and saw to my surprise that the certified letters were from Orlando. “Nate,” I sent, “can you talk?” “Sure—this class is kind of boring. What‟s up?” “You‟ve got a certified letter, and it‟s from the US Attorney‟s office in Orlando. Want me to open it?” “Please.” I tore the envelope open and scanned its contents. “The kidnapping case is set for trial, and you‟re being put on notice that you‟ll be called to testify.” “When?” “Next month.” “Good. Is that it?” “Yeah, except for the fact that I got a letter, too.” “Then I‟ll let you go—the teacher is about to give us an assignment.”

Maggie Valley, NC Wednesday, two weeks later

The closing on our property was held in Hugh Williams‘s office and took all of thirty minutes to complete—all we had to do was sign a few documents, the money having been wired to Hugh‘s trust account a few days earlier. When we‘d met with Mitch to sign the wills, medical powers of attorney, and other documents, he suggested we form a holding company to take title to the property in North Carolina, which would virtually eliminate any chance of the cult members tracing us there—assuming they didn‘t follow us. With the closing behind us, we met with the contractor to give him a go-ahead on the construction. We also walked the property with one of his people and hammered stakes into the ground to show the location of the house and the driveway all the way out to the road. Once that was done, we met Randy at the site and got his blessing as to the driveway location, and two days after the closing, we headed south, knowing that we had done all that we could. ―I can‘t wait,‖ Nate said, ―to see what the house is gonna look like.‖ ―Babe, we know what it‘ll look like from the plans and drawings.‖ ―Don‘t give me that—you know what I mean.‖ ―Yeah.‖

Orlando, FL May

AT 9 A.M. Nate and I were sitting in an anteroom just off of the courtroom waiting for Nate to be called to testify, and he was getting antsy. ―I‘m nervous,‖ he said. ―Don‘t be. After all, you‘re just one of several victims in this case.‖ ―I know, but I‘m still nervous.‖ “Remember what the prosecutor said,” I sent. “Answer the questions as simply as possible, and don‟t volunteer anything.”

“Yeah.” “I‟ll be with you the whole time.” “What if they ask about the rescue?” “All you have to tell them is someone cut through the back of the tent and rescued you. Beyond that, anything you tell them is hearsay and won‟t be allowed into testimony.” “They‟ll be sure to ask you.” “Yeah, but this won‟t be the first time I‟ve testified in court, so I‟ll be fine.” “Yeah. I wonder if Mom and Reggie are in the courtroom?” “Let‟s find out—we might even learn something interesting.” “Yeah, let‟s.” Nate and I meshed into a light state of rapport and began to scan the thoughts of anyone we located nearby. We located his mother and stepfather easily and began to probe. The subject matter of the trial had both of them thinking about Nate and other things, and we hit pay dirt almost immediately. “Babe,” I sent, “we need to probe as deeply and as quickly as we can. I‟m going to make notes as we go.” When we were finished, we had a treasure trove of information. “The prosecutor working on the theft charges against your parents needs to know some of this stuff,” I sent. “For that matter, so does Mitch.” “Yeah, but how are we gonna get it to him without revealing too much?” “This trial is going to last several days, so we‟ll stay in town longer than planned and do some digging. Is there anything happening in your classes this week that you can‟t afford to miss?” “No. Besides, all of my teachers know I‟ve been called to testify, so I already have my assignments.” Nate was finally called into the courtroom, and I kept lightly in touch with him throughout the process. He needn‘t have worried, as the questions were pretty basic, and on reflection, given that they now had a total of four kidnap victims, there was no wiggle room for the defendants. My own testimony was even briefer than Nate‘s had

been—the defense attorney didn‘t seem to be trying very hard at all— and Nate and I walked toward the elevators that would take us downstairs feeling good about the events of the day. Because we were literally in enemy territory, we were scanning the area around us for any sign of undue interest in either Nate or myself. When we stepped out of the elevator car on the ground floor, our feeling of euphoria evaporated. “Nate,” I sent, “do you sense what I sense?” “Yeah. Reporters just outside the building, waiting to pounce on anyone who walks through that door.” “Maybe there‟s a back door. I‟ll ask.” We went into the nearest office and asked the clerk if there was a way out of the courthouse that would bypass the waiting reporters, and were directed to an officer who agreed to lead us down a corridor to the secure parking area, from which we could reach the adjacent parking garage undetected. On the way back to our motel, I said, ―Want to stop somewhere for an early lunch?‖ ―I‘d rather go back to our room and crawl in bed with you for awhile.‖ ―We can do that.‖ Later, as we relaxed in our room, I sensed that Nate was still more than a little bit troubled, so I decided to jump right in and ask. ―Okay, kiddo,‖ I said. ―What‘s wrong? You ought to be on top of the world right now, but I sense you sliding in the other direction.‖ ―I‘m sorry, but I just can‘t stop worrying about all this stuff.‖ ―All what stuff?‖ ―The kidnapping trial, the prosecution of my parents for fraud, the whole thing.‖ ―You need to put all of that behind you.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Is there a damn thing you can do about any of it?‖ I said. ―Well, no.‖

―Then why worry about things over which you have absolutely no control?‖ ―Easy for you to say.‖ ―That‘s true,‖ I said. ―Maybe you ought to have a few chats with Father Cullen when we get home.‖ ―Yeah. I really like him.‖ ―Good. Ready to go sleuthing?‖ ―Sleuthing?‖ he parroted. ―Babe, I‘ve got a ton of notes from our little excursion into your parents‘ minds. We‘ve got to verify as much of it as we can so we can turn it over to the attorneys.‖ ―Yeah,‖ he said. ―We can do that.‖ It took two days of intensive research, including online visits to the Offices of the Clerk of the Circuit Court of several counties, all of them much further south than I had previously researched, but we finally had everything we needed. ―That‘s it, then,‖ Nate said. ―Yeah. Your mom and stepfather have been buying and selling real estate in south Florida for years, and they have a bank account down there that nobody knows about.‖ ―I don‘t know whether to be sad or angry,‖ he said, ―but I think I‘m mostly disappointed in Mom.‖ ―That‘s probably a good way to look at it. Meanwhile, I‘m going to burn a couple of DVDs containing all of these documents and hand deliver one copy to the prosecutor, and another copy to Mitch.‖ ―Then can we can go home?‖ ―You bet your ass.‖ A week after our return home, Nate had a couple of appointments with Father Cullen and seemed to have gotten a handle on his fears and concerns. Over lunch at The Loop, I summed it up for him. ―You‘ve got a life. Correction, we‘ve got a life together. We‘re building a dream house in the mountains. You have your education to complete, and we‘ve just wrangled a contract from Mr. Rinker for an entire year of monitoring his service stations.‖

―What‘s your point?‖ ―Babe, if nothing else, you‘re not going to have time to do anything more than deal with the here and now.‖ ―Yeah, that makes sense. Can we go home and go to bed?‖ ―As soon as I finish my sandwich.‖ ―Your sandwich is more important?‖ ―Hardly that, but you don‘t have any other appointments, do you?‖ ―No.‖ ―Well, then. The sooner you stop talking, the sooner I finish this sandwich, which means we‘ll be home in bed that much more quickly.‖ ―Works for me,‖ he said.

About the Author

ETIENNE lives in central Florida, very near the hamlet in which he grew up. He always wanted to write but didn‘t find his muse until a few years ago, when he started posting stories online. These days he spends most of his time battling with her, as she is a capricious bitch who, when she isn‘t hiding from him, often rides him mercilessly, digging her spurs into his sides and forcing the flow of words from a trickle to a flood. Visit Etienne at http://www.etiennestories.blogspot.com. You can contact him at [email protected].

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