Six Degrees of Lust (41 page)

Logan. Since when do you get off on listening to my phone

conversations?”

Logan didn’t dignify Sam’s question with an answer, but

he didn’t make any smart mouthed comments about what he’d

overhead either. Sam was more than thankful for that. Only God

knew what Logan’s psychologist mind had concluded from his

talk with Mac, and he really didn’t want to hear it.

“I take it he said yes to South Beach?”

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“Yeah.” Sam dropped the phone on the conference table, sat

down, and picked up the files to continue reading the reports.

“I can book the hotel when I change the reservations to your

name,” his friend offered.

“Thanks.” He made a few notes on the margin of one file.

“Just make sure the room number is 515.”

“I can also look into some tickets for those rides your man

seems to like.”

“He’s not my man.” Sam didn’t look at his friend. He just

made more notations on the file. “Anything that would scare the

crap out of normal people will be fine. Just put whatever it is on

my card.”

“Got it.”

“And, Lo. The room?” He glanced at his friend briefly before

mumbling, “Make sure it’s…nice.”

“I will, babe. Anything else?”

Sam thought about it and although a few things came to mind,

he preferred to take care of them personally, so he shook his

head. “You know what? Just take care of the room, okay? I know

what Mac likes, so I’ll look into the rest.” He signed a report and

grabbed the next, completely ignoring Logan’s delighted smile.

“I shouldn’t even be taking time off right now,” he muttered.

“We’ve so much to do with this case and—”

“You know you can be here in a few hours if there’re any new

developments.”

“Still.”

“There’s no reason to be scared, Sam.”

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t want to hear the

answer, but when Logan took longer than usual to give it to him,

Sam found himself lowering the report and leaning toward his

friend to make sure their conversation remained between the two

of them. “What do you think I’m scared of?”

“Going to Miami for a few days with Mac,” Logan said softly,

292 Taylor V. Donovan

his blue-gray eyes understanding and far too knowing.

“I’m not! I’m worried about work and Nicky and my sister…”

He took a deep breath, incapable of lying to his best friend. “And

yes, I might be worried about spending so much time with Mac,

but only because I don’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

“And what impression would that be?”

“That it’s serious between us or something.” He saw Logan

shake his head, but this time he really didn’t want to know the

reason behind it. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into going,” he

said for the hundredth time.

“You know, sometimes life puts people in our way at

unexpected times. And even if we think them to be inconvenient,

the connection can be so intense it’ll change the scheme of

things. Whenever something like that happens, it is best to go

with it, because no amount of refusal or denial is going to make

a difference in whatever is meant to be.”

“You know I don’t believe in fate.”

“Then there’s no reason for you to be worried,” Logan said

with a mocking sideway smile. “Go to Miami, enjoy the sun and

the sex and come back home to your usual safe and detached

life.”

“I will.”

“Why did he ask about Nicky? Did something happen?”

“Nothing new. Mac’s just been asking on a regular basis since

he got to talk with Nicky the other night.”

“Any luck getting Nicky to talk about Sasha?”

“He just says that Sasha is in some kind of danger and he

needs to be available to him. They have cell phones now, so he

really doesn’t talk about it. We’re going to have to find out on our

own. Sasha’s family on his mother’s side isn’t much better than

his father’s side, I can tell you that much.”

“Think this danger has anything to do with Sasha being gay?”

Logan asked, biting his lower lip.

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“I’m positive it has a lot to do with it.” Sam closed the file

and put it on the table. “But it could also have to do with the

fact that Sasha’s family on his father’s side is involved in the adult

film industry. That was one of the charges when we busted them

years ago, and it’s worrying me a lot. From what Nicky said, it

isn’t only a phone that Sasha didn’t have.”

“You think he’s homeless?”

“Either that or he ran out of closet space at his house and

needed to keep some of his stuff in my basement. Next time he

comes to the house I’m talking to him.” Sam got up and put his

suit jacket on. “Going to interview yet another gallery owner on

the Leviticus case. Want to come with me?”

“Definitely.”

§ § § §

Mac gripped his truck’s steering wheel and lowered his head

between his arms until his chin was touching his chest. Then he

closed his eyes and started breathing the way he did when he lifted

weights, deep and slow, and kept doing so until his heart finally

made the trip from his mouth, down his throat, and eventually

settled in its usual place in his chest. He still felt dizzy though,

and he suspected it would take a little longer to recover from that.

It was normal to be disoriented when the world shifted all of

a sudden and one was left not knowing where to go. Instinct told

him straight ahead, but caution said it’d be prudent to stay put

until he could figure out where the hell he was standing to begin

with… or what it was that, against his best judgment, he was

hoping to find once he started moving.

Unfortunately, he’d thrown caution out the window about

twenty minutes ago.

He opened his door and grabbed his gym bag. One look at his

phone and he was grinning like a loon.

“South Beach, here I come,” he whispered as he got out of

the truck. He’d worry about everything else later.

August 18, 2009

New York City

It was sickening how many deranged people were out there.

Most of them never actually acted on their madness, thank

goodness, but they certainly had no problems rooting for those

who did.

Case in point: Soldiers of God.

The public blog had a little over fifty followers scattered all

over the United States, including Mik Takahashi, their resident

computer genius, under a different name. There wasn’t any

recent activity from the sick fuck that ran it, but the followers

kept the page alive with their comments and inquiries about the

fight against evil and perversion.

Every single one of said followers was now under investigation

by his team.

The last entry was a success story. Apparently some guy had

seen the light, as the author had personally witnessed him with a

woman several times. Sam had no idea what that was all about,

but he was damn glad for whoever the bastard was. Hanging out

with a girl had saved his life.

Sam had to admit the blog was brilliant. The author had

managed to fly under the cyber police radar by making liberal

use of similes and metaphors and dispersing key words such as

“faggots,” “homos,” and “burn in hell” that would have singled

out the page.

Every entry, coincidentally made around the time of the

murders, was either a warning of what was to come for those

who didn’t repent and change their ways, or a subtle description

of their final hours when they failed to do so.

296 Taylor V. Donovan

Every entry was also a rather poetic confession to the crimes.

It was definitely Lev.

From what Sam was able to gather, the M.O. was always the

same. The “blogger” would frequent gay bars or clubs, buy a

drink, go on a date, and offer the victim an opportunity to see the

light. That they knew from talking to Ryan Lewis, so they were

more interested in what happened afterward.

References were made that had Sam thinking Lev brought the

victims to a humid, confined space—most likely a basement—

that was near the water. That could be anywhere, but Sam was

pretty sure it was either New Jersey or Staten Island, places where

Landon Phillips owned a house. They were already searching

those areas.

Now it was a matter of waiting for Lev to get back online,

then Mik would be able to pinpoint his whereabouts through his

IP address.

Sam so loved that girl.

August 24, 2009

New York City

Christian Murphy stood in front of his full length mirror

turning this and that way with critical eyes, then leaned in and

inspected his makeup carefully. Once he was convinced his entire

look was flawless he ran back to the bedroom area to get his cell

phone and dialed the front desk to request a cab.

He could have walked to the center, but he had taken longer

than he thought getting home from the gallery and was now

running late. His meeting with the center’s fundraising committee

wasn’t until six, but he was hoping to get to Horizons before

the GED preparation class was over. He didn’t want to miss the

opportunity to talk business with the beautiful boy that Chris

thought of as his new muse. From what he could tell, the boy

attended class and left right after they were done, never talking to

anyone, and Christian needed to have a conversation with him.

Besides, it was disgustingly hot outside.

“Thomas, hi,” he greeted his building’s doorman as soon as

he answered the phone. “Would you be a darling and get a cab for

me? I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“No problem, Mr. Murphy. Will your friend be going with

you?”

“What friend?” Chris walked to his studio and opened his

camera bag to make sure he had everything he’d need. Then he

took the samples of the pictures he had printed out earlier and

put them in the bag as well.

“Mr. Michels.”

He carried the bag to the kitchen counter, a tad annoyed to be

hearing Julian’s name. “He’s not here, Tom.”

298 Taylor V. Donovan

“He’s on his way up. Said you were expecting him but he

wanted to surprise you if he could.”

“What the hell?”

“Is there something wrong?” The concierge sounded

alarmed. He was supposed to always announce a visitor before

allowing them to get past the front desk. The omission of such

an important rule was grounds for termination. “I am so sorry,

Mr. Murphy. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“It’s okay, Tom.” He was annoyed, but he’d never cost the

man his job, especially when such assumption was probably made

after Christian’s very own No need to announce Julian, darling.

Just send him. “But know that from now on Mr. Michels is not

welcome to visit my place. Make sure you spread the word to the

other guys, you got that?”

“I understand, sir.”

“Thank you, dear. I’ll be down in just a bit.”

After disconnecting the call he grabbed his black leather

satchel from the couch, all along taking deep breaths and making

sure he would keep his cool no matter what.

It’d been six days since the last time he saw Julian for two

hours at the gallery. They’d spoken on the phone briefly two days

after that, when Christian had called Julian to bail out on what

was supposed to be “a romantic night in” after deciding he just

wasn’t up to having Julian be the one to bust their plans. Not to

mention, romantic was the last thing Chris was feeling these days.

Julian hadn’t been happy about it, probably because, in his

mind, he was the only one with the right to make or break their

plans. He always expected Chris to be either available when

summoned or understanding when canceled on.

The day before had been one of complete silence between

them, and after hours of careful consideration and a two hour

phone conversation with Braxton, his hometown best friend of

almost twenty years, Chris had decided it was time to let go.

His friend Braxton had been right every time he expressed

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his concern about Christian’s reasoning for a relationship with

Julian. He’d been honestly attracted to the emotional security

Julian represented at the time, and Chris had tried to make things

work, but in all reality he’d just been using the guy.

He was done trying to forget about what had happened

between him and Remy Benoit by staying with Julian in a

supposedly stable, committed relationship that had been nothing

but wishful thinking on Chris’s part and God knew what on

Julian’s. He couldn’t escape his feelings, no matter how hard he

tried.

Earlier that day he’d sent a text to Julian saying they needed to

talk and received no response, which wasn’t a big deal anymore.

He’d wanted to be decent and break up with him in person