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information has been released on the victim, but he was known to frequently visit the Domain of Queers, which is a center for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender teens. I'm currently standing just across the street from this center, which you can see is located on the second floor of that building, just above Oak Drugs. It moved to this location just over a year ago, and has been very successful, serving not only local teens, but a number of runaways as well.”
    Tom Rivers cut in, his voice deep and luxuriant, and said, “Todd, was the victim simply employed at this center as well, perhaps as a caretaker or janitor, or was he there as a teenager to use and enjoy the facilities?”
    Todd knew damn well, of course. When Rawlins and he had spoken at the DQ, Andrew had not only been in the front row, he'd been sitting there holding hands with some other guy. With a bright, eager grin, he'd asked lots of questions, laughed, and gotten a veritable debate going regarding—what was it?—the feasibility of a gay relationship. Right. And later on, of course, he'd met with Rawlins.
    “I do believe, Tom, that the victim came here for the center's services. As a matter of fact, I first encountered the victim two months ago when I was here giving a talk to gay youth.”
    “Does that mean for a fact he was gay?”
    Rawlins was going to give him shit for this, but Todd had no choice, and he said, “Well, the Domain of Queers, or the DQ as it's commonly called, is a center to serve gay teens. Whether the victim was indeed gay and/or possibly a runaway will soon, I'm sure, be officially known.”
    Even though Todd always tried to focus every bit of his energy and attention on the camera, out of the corner of his eye he saw a tall figure come hurrying around the corner. It was a young man, his head bent, his long, silky hair bouncing with each of his long, awkward strides, and Todd recognized him immediately. And the kid, seeing the camera and the lights, looked up, his eyes red, his cheeks still wet with tears, and froze in surprise. An odd, almost fearful look washed over him, and then he turned and quickly hurried off.
    Into the earpiece lodged in Todd's right ear, Tom Rivers said, “Thank you very much, Todd, and we look forward to any other information you might have on this sad story. In other news…”
    Todd glanced down, saw the image of Tom Rivers fill the monitor. Then he looked up, saw Bradley still hunched behind the camera. The next second, Bradley raised his head.
    “Clear.”
    Ripping away the earpiece and stuffing that and the stick mike into Bradley's hands, Todd said, “I'll be right back!”
    Spinning around, he saw the kid scurrying across the street not toward Oak Drugs of course, but toward the DQ. Sure, scared and upset, horrified and confused, he'd walked here from the murder scene and was now fleeing to the one safe isle he'd ever found, that refuge of his peers. Which is exactly where Todd had seen him before. He didn't know the kid's name, but Todd was sure of it, this young man with the long, silky hair was a friend of Andrew. Or was he more? Had he been the one sitting there holding hands with Andrew during Todd and Rawlins's talk? If so, what did that imply, that they'd simply been queer friends, or that they'd perhaps been sweethearts?
    A boxy truck with a smiling cow on the side rolled past, next a blue van and two cars, and then Todd darted into the road. His eyes fixed on the tall young man, he watched as the kid hurried up the sidewalk and reached the double doors that led to the Domain of Queers.
    “Hey!” called Todd from the middle of the street.
    Spinning around, the kid brushed his hair back and glanced toward Todd, his eyes now smoldering with what, anger? Recognition? The young guy hesitated for a second, then lunged for the glass door and swung it open.
    Every bit of his reporterly instincts was piqued, and Todd wasted no time, breaking into a quick jog, charging up the sidewalk and