And so it was that, less than an hour after I promised Andrew I’d stick around the office, I was sneaking out again.
What else could I do? When I wanted to talk to Brent’s boyfriend, Charlie, I had to wait till he went on shift at the bar. My “audition” with SwordFight took even more elaborate planning.
But getting to Lucas should be easier. I knew where he lived. I could call first, but if he were involved in Brent’s disappearance, it’d probably be best to take him by surprise. I didn’t want to give him time to come up with any excuses, or, worse, make a run for it.
I didn’t want to put it off. I had no idea where Brent was. But if there was chance it was somewhere unpleasant, if he were being held against his will-and I couldn’t imagine another scenario in which he at least wouldn’t have told Charlie where he was-time was of the essence.
BTW: I’ve always wanted to use the phrase “time was of the essence.”
Of course, there was always the risk Lucas wouldn’t be home. I mean, what does a kept boy do all day? Go to the gym, I’d imagine. Shop. Play video games. Maybe he was in school.
I remembered Lucas’s sexy slacker vibe, though, and struck that last possibility.
Whatever Lucas was up to, and whatever he knew about Brent, I planned to find out soon enough.
On the way over, I called Freddy. Partly to fill him in, partly to let him know what I was about to do and make my increasingly frequent request of him to call Tony if he didn’t hear from me after a few hours.
“I’m coming with you,” Freddy said defiantly. “There’s no way I’m letting you go into this one alone.”
I was touched. Freddy and I had been through a lot together, and the degree to which he wanted to protect me proved what a loyal and true friend he was.
“I’m afraid seeing two of us will scare Lucas off,” I said. “And you know I can handle myself if he gets physical. I’ve taken down bigger guys than him. But I really appreciate your looking out for me.”
“Who said anything about looking out for you? We watched him on video together, Kevin, so I know you’ve seen that world-class ass. There’s no way I’m passing up the chance to get into that little hottie’s pants.”
Okay, I retract all those warm and fuzzies. Freddy was a pig.
“This is not,” I said firmly, “about getting into someone’s pants. This is about finding a missing friend.”
“You want Lucas to talk, right? Well, I’ve learned,” Freddy observed blithely, ignoring the annoyance in my voice, “that with the right kind of boy, a good and thorough plowing has a positive effect on the flow of social… intercourse. Loosens him up, so to speak.”
“Huh. And you’re prepared to make this sacrifice in the interests of helping to locate Brent?”
“No, I’m prepared to make this sacrifice in the interests of burying my dick so deep inside his butt that he feels it against his tonsils. But, if it helps find Brent, then, hey, all the better, right? Never let it be said I’m selfish.”
“You’re selfish,” I said.
“I thought I made it clear never to say that, bitch. Where should I meet you?”
“You shouldn’t. But, I’ll make you a promise-if I can’t get him to talk, we’ll try your approach.”
“Really?”
“Probably not. But you can dream, which is better than nothing, right?”
“Barely.”
“Besides, you’ve got Cody. What would he think about your shameless pursuit of a retired porn star?”
“As you well know, Cody and I have an open relationship.” Freddy affected a haughty disregard.
“On one side.”
“Hey, he can screw around if he wants to.”
“That’s the point. He doesn’t want to. He just wants you.”
“So do a lot of other people. What am I supposed to do? ‘Just say no’? Do I look like Nancy Reagan to you?”
“Only when you wear red,” I said. “And, yes, saying no is an option, Freddy.”
“One minute you’re calling me selfish, the next you’re saying I shouldn’t share this magnificent body god gave me with as many men as I can. Make up your mind, Connor.”
Maybe I didn’t have ADHD. Maybe my friends were conspiring to make me crazy.
“Whatever. I’m texting you Lucas’s address. If I don’t call you in two hours, you try me. If I don’t answer, call Tony and have him send the cavalry. Okay?”
“Why do I have to be the middleman on this? Wouldn’t it be easier if you called Tony now and told him yourself when you might need rescuing? He can watch the clock as well as I can. Probably better.”
“Because if he knew what I was sticking my nose into, he’d kill me. Which would make the whole ‘rescuing’ thing kind of moot.”
“Fair enough. Okay, I’d wish you luck, but since your success makes it less likely you’ll let me have a go at Lucas, I’ll just hope you don’t get yourself killed.”
“Thanks,” I said. “That’s very generous of you.”
“See?” Freddy pointed out. “ So not selfish.”
I arrived at the address Mrs. Cherry had given me and immediately recognized the building. It was a tall, skinny sliver of a high-rise condominium that seemed constructed of nothing but glass and steel. It looked more like an oversized piece of jewelry than a place where real people lived. Chic, minimalistic, almost spindly, it was hard to imagine it could withstand a strong breeze, let alone hundreds of people and all their stuff. Yet, despite its seeming fragility, it was considered, in many ways, one of the most secure buildings in the world.
It was called El Santuario. I’d read about it somewhere, the New York Times, maybe, or the New Yorker. Something with “New York” in it. It was described as the city’s most exciting new building, an architectural wonder. As high-tech inside as it looked from the street, every unit was wired for automation and the ultimate in home security. Despite the fact that the walls were almost all floor-to-ceiling windows, you could see out but you couldn’t see in. Some kind of special one-way coating gave the residents the best views in the city while also delivering total privacy.
The entrance was set back from the street, flanked by two doormen. You couldn’t tell from looking, but I remembered from the article that the doormen were armed. It was also one of the few buildings in the city with an underground garage that allowed residents to pull in and have access to an elevator that would take them straight to the floor on which they lived, bypassing the need to pass through a lobby. This wasn’t so much a security design, I’d read, but one instituted to ward off paparazzi, who typically clustered around the city’s other high-end developments, hoping for a shot of someone rich and famous.
Given its many protections, El Santuario was home to several celebrities, financiers, and heads of state. People who wanted not only the elegance and status of living in one of New York’s most desirable addresses, but the ultimate in protection from prying eyes and the other dangers of city life.
I hadn’t asked Mrs. Cherry who Lucas’s patron was. I was kind of glad not to know. Whoever it was, he was rich enough to have an apartment here. I had no desire to get on the wrong side of anyone with that much juice.
A man with that kind of money and power… now, there’s someone who’d kill to keep his secret.
Forget Lucas.
Maybe the real guy I should be worried about was his sugar daddy.
I was glad I had dressed nicely for work today. The armed guards nodded as one opened the door for me. One even smiled.
There are times when being five feet three with boyish features and a slim build are an advantage. I’m not particularly threatening.
Once inside, I faced a long counter, behind which stood a man with the face of friendly bulldog. “May I help you, sir?”
Like most everything else in the lobby, the reception table was silver and glass. I noticed an odd omission of seating. No couches or chairs for visitors. The message was: You’re either on your way in, or on your way out. Hanging out was not encouraged at El Santuario. Another reminder that people weren’t here to be seen.
“Hi,” I answered, in my most disarming manner. “I’m here to see Lucas. In…” I forgot the apartment number. “One sec.”
I reached into my pocket for the folded sheet in my front pocket and noticed the receptionist’s eyes darken.
