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and no way was he letting an up-and-comer in Razhin’s organization within spitting distance of his family.
    He frowned at the four boxes he’d packed. “What? No, Mom, I gotta go.” He clicked off his cell phone, cutting off his mother mid-sentence. He’d hear about it later, for sure.
    How the fuck was he getting these boxes back to Parker’s? All of his friends were cops, but he couldn’t let any of them know about what he was doing. He didn’t know who he could trust. If they weren’t dirty, one of them might report to the wrong person what he and Martelli were trying to accomplish, and that could be equally detrimental. Colin’s friends had left with Colin, and renting a car could be dangerous. His family was right out; he didn’t want them anywhere near his work.
    He tapped his phone, but just as he’d gotten to the point of scrolling through his entire contact list, his “new” phone rang, startling him.
    “Hello?”
    “Ivan, are you settling in?”
    It took him a moment to recognize his boss’s voice.
    “Yep, so far.”
    “Good, good. You’ve got an appointment you need to keep. Tomorrow at 31 Bloor, Suite 1912, 3 p.m.”
    Ivan rolled his eyes. The SIU would take place at headquarters, so this appointment had to be the department mandated shrink-wrapping. Who the hell wanted to spill their guts on a Friday afternoon? He scratched down the address and time on the pad of paper beside his bed.
    “Fine. I’ll be there. What about the SIU?”
    “Next week sometime. Be careful.”
    “Sure thing, Sarge.” Ivan disconnected the call, still unsure how he was getting his boxes to Parker’s without creating any undue interest in his movements.
     
     
    “ Y OUR chariot is here,” the slender blond exclaimed as he popped out of the driver’s side.
    “Thanks, Rick, I really appreciate it.”
    “Oh, no worries. It’s the least I can do.” Rick thrust out a hip and winked suggestively at him. Ivan laughed. He’d met Rick shortly after he’d broken up with Colin. They’d spent a very enjoyable night, and had slept together a couple of times while Ivan gorged himself on being single, during which Ivan discovered that he rather liked the guy. He’d met a couple of Rick’s other friends, but only briefly. Mostly they went to clubs or bars together and left with other people. He hadn’t seen Rick in several weeks, due to overtime on the task force, but they were slowly taking their friendship out of the bars. Not dating. Rick was great in the sack, but they weren’t compatible, and Rick wasn’t interested in a relationship anyway. Ivan had called him because he was a friend who could not easily be associated with Ivan Bekker or the police.
    Ivan loaded his boxes into Rick’s car, then stood back and assessed the vehicle. Rick was one of the most flamboyant gay men Ivan knew, which made the incongruity of his ridiculously inconspicuous car all the more pronounced. Definitely a bonus for what Ivan needed.
    “So, you want to tell me what this is about, big boy? I thought your main squeeze moved out.”
    “Um, I really can’t talk about it. But will you please do me a favor and take a roundabout way back home after?”
    He grabbed Rick’s phone and programmed his new cell number into it, under the name Baker. “Call me at this number if you notice anything unusual, but please, please only contact me if it’s an emergency.”
    Rick raised his brow. “I guess you’re not talking about an ‘I might die if I can’t fuck that guy’ emergency.” He glanced at his phone. “Baker?”
    “Don’t ask. Please.”
    With a shrug, Rick wedged his phone back into his tight jeans. “You’re the boss. Ready to go?”
    “Just a minute.” Ivan grabbed a handful of mud from the recently watered rosebushes at the side of the garden and smeared it over both license plates. Not enough to get Rick pulled over, but enough to obscure the plate number from casual inspection, especially while in