Nocturnal: A Novel

important?”

“It is to me.”

Max smiled, a left-corner-of-the-mouth-curling-up thing that Robin could only hope they put on the covers of his posters, or web pages, or whatever they used to advertise porn.

“I see,” he said. “And would Mister I Dress All in Black be involved?”

Robin felt her face flush. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it in your eyes. Maybe you should invite him over to discuss the case. You haven’t been laid since he moved out.”

“Max! That’s none of your business. And how do you know I haven’t been laid? Maybe I’m a regular trollop.”

Max reached up a big fist, rapped his knuckles against the wall that separated their two apartments. “These things are pretty thin. I’d know if you were knocking boots. I certainly knew every time that you and Bryan were … shall we say … discussing a case.”

A swirl of thoughts stopped Robin cold: embarrassment at Max having heard her with Bryan; memories of Bryan making love to her; echoes of the happiness they shared in this very apartment; still-fresh memories of the arguments, of her yelling at Bryan while he just stared back, infuriatingly calm and maddeningly distant. The yelling … Max had to have heard as well.

“The Man in Black and I are finished,” Robin said. “And I’m too busy to worry about sex right now.”

The big man shrugged. “My mom told me there’s two things you should never be too busy to do.”

“Pay taxes and vacuum the carpet?”

“No,” Max said. “You’re never too busy to pet a puppy, and never too busy to make love.”

“Your mom told you that?”

He nodded. “Sure. Before I came out, I mean. Now she focuses mostly on the puppy part. Look, there’s nothing wrong with getting a booty call from an ex. You should have Bryan go old-school fifties-movies on you. You know, shake you around a bit, maybe a little slap or two, then the ravaging.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “He’s not like that, Max. He’s a softie.”

Max laughed and shook his head. “Honey, Bryan may be a gentleman, but he’s no softie. He has a mean streak in him a mile wide.”

Bryan was standoffish, sure, but mean? Nobody besides her — and maybe Pookie — seemed to know the real man. Or maybe everyone did know him, and it was Robin who was clueless. “You’ve only met Bryan a couple of times,” she said. “How can you tell that about him?”

“It’s my job to tell. I’m a bouncer, remember? Your little Johnny Cash is not someone I’d want to meet in a back alley.”

“You outweigh him by at least fifty pounds, Max.”

“Size isn’t everything. Outside of porn, I mean. I like my teeth right where they are, so I’ve learned to watch out for guys like Bryan.”

What a ridiculous concept. Max was so … well, big. Bryan was lean and strong, sure, but was he mean enough to take on a bruiser like Max? It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to think about Bryan Clauser anymore.

“Thanks for watching Emma, Maxie. I owe you dinner.”

“Seven,” he said.

“Seven what?”

“Seven dinners. That’s only for the past three months.”

“Seven? Really?”

Max nodded. “I don’t mean to tell you how to run your life, honey, but Emma is starting to like me more than she likes you.”

“Oh no she is not!”

Max smiled, then walked toward the door. Emma trotted along after him.

“Emma! Where are you going?”

Emma stopped and looked at Robin, then looked back at Max.

Max shrugged at Emma. “Don’t worry, boo-boo, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

He shut the door behind him. Emma stared at the door, then let out a little whine.

Robin clapped her hands once to get the dog’s attention. “Emma baby, do you want treats?” The dog came running.

Maybe Bryan Clauser didn’t love Robin, but Emma sure did — and if Robin had to buy that love with dog treats, that was just fine. A treat, maybe two (or three, or four), and then it was time for bed.

Pookie Phones a Friend

Sweat started to pool in Pookie’s armpits. Carrying a grown man up four flights of stairs was a surprising and unwelcome workout. His stupid partner needed to find an apartment with an elevator that worked.

“Bri-Bri, if you puke on me, I’m going to punch you in the taint.”

Bryan mumbled something unintelligible. He didn’t weigh all that much, maybe one-seventy, but the guy could barely walk. Bryan was sweating, too, but from a fever as opposed to exhaustion.

Pookie was making bad choices and he knew it. Helping Bryan up to his apartment? This guy could be a killer. Not a sniper from fifty yards kind of killer, but rather the type that tears a kid’s arm off and paints pretty pictures with it.

They reached the fourth floor. Legs exhausted, undershirt sticking to his sweaty skin, Pookie half helped, half dragged Bryan to the door.

“Come on, Bryan, try to walk.”

“Sorry,” Bryan said. “Man, I hurt all over.”

“You sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

Bryan shook his head. “Just sick is all.” He dug into his pocket for his keys, tried to unlock the door with a shaking hand. Pookie had to take the keys and do it for him.

“Just sick,” Bryan repeated as they stepped inside. “Feel like the inside of a donkey’s butthole.”

“Live donkey or dead donkey?”

“Dead.”

“Ah yes,” Pookie said. “I hate that feeling.”

“Tell me about it. Lemme go. Going to bed.”

Pookie slowly released his hold on Bryan. Bryan made it three steps before he stumbled over one of the dozens of unpacked boxes cluttering the small hallway. Pookie stepped in quick and slid under Bryan’s shoulder, stabilizing him.

“Wow, Bryan, unpack much?”

“I’m getting to it.”

Pookie helped Bryan around the boxes and into the small bedroom. It had to be a little bit of a shock to move from Robin’s spacious two-bedroom apartment to this tiny one-bedroom affair, but six months on and he still hadn’t fully settled in? Bryan had set up the TV and the couch, hung up his all-black wardrobe, and that was apparently all the guy needed.

Pookie gently hip-tossed Bryan into the bed.

Bryan opened one puffy, bloodshot eye. “You gonna undress me, Daddy?”

“Don’t think so, fag.”

“Homophobe.”

“And proud of it,” Pookie said. “Bible’s pretty clear on that one, big guy. I’m whipped, brother, so either you get nekkid on your own or you sleep in your clothes.”

Bryan didn’t answer. Just like that, he’d already fallen asleep.

Pookie felt sweat cooling on his forehead. He wiped the sweat away with his hand, then wiped his hand on Bryan’s pant leg. Whatever bug Bryan had, Pookie now surely had it as well.

Pookie stared down at his partner. He wasn’t going to leave Bryan alone tonight, that was for sure. Besides, if someone was — somehow — putting thoughts into Bryan’s head, they sure weren’t beaming them in with a magic