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secrets, this is business. I can’t share.” He kicked Theo’s foot hard enough for him to get the hint to move it. When Theo did, Grant closed the door with a slam.
    He turned to Parker. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
    “Never mind. You should take care of your company.”
    “You went to a lot of trouble to come here, and how’d you get my address anyway?” He knew it was a stupid question. They were cops. The information was readily available to them. They were privy to lots of information.
    “Uh.”
    “Forget it. I know how. Just tell me why?”
    Grant noticed how he scraped his foot along the floor. He was obviously nervous.
    “Spill it, Parker. I have a guest, and I hate to keep him waiting.” Having Parker in his apartment only made his desire that much stronger. Grant longed to drag him into the bedroom, throw him down on his bed, and tear off his clothes, show Parker what it felt like to have his hard cock filling him.
    “I’ll come back another time.” Parker left abruptly.
    “What the fuck?” Grant called after him. Parker was through the front door and then the door that led to the stairwell before Grant had a chance to catch up. He could hear Parker’s feet pounding on the steps as he descended to the first floor. “Well, I’ll be a motherfucker.”
    Raking his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath and turned to Theo.
    “I hope you came prepared to listen, because I plan on talking for a very long time.”
    Theo smiled and then said, “I’d say I’m in for one hell of a night!”
    * * * *
    Parker rushed off to his car. What had he been thinking showing up on Grant’s doorstep without so much as a phone call? He knew better. Worse, what if someone saw him going there? They might get the wrong idea and think they were getting it on or something. That was the last thing he needed. Yet he wanted to tell Grant about the evidence he’d found at the crime scene. He wasn’t sure who he could trust, but his gut told him Grant was trustworthy. At this point Grant didn’t have many, if any, friends at the station, so what were the chances he’d tell anyone? Slim to none, and who would believe the homo?
    He cringed when he thought of the word. The truth was he was just as much homo as Grant. Only Grant was the bigger person. He had no fear of coming out and telling the world who and what he was. Parker wished he could be as brave as his new partner, but knew that wouldn’t happen.
    Someday he’d come to terms with his sexuality and maybe even come clean. A wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. He’d never come clean. He’d always be a closet case.
    Parker pulled the business card out of his pocket and looked at it for the hundredth time. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the card would stir up more shit than he could handle. He didn’t know if he should tell Grant about it, but in the end he felt it was the right thing to do. He suspected Grant had seen him when he stuck it in his pocket. There was nothing he could do. He panicked. If one of their own was guilty, there would be a big red bull’s-eye on the department. He would have to tread carefully, and Grant would be sworn to total secrecy.
    He stared at the card. More important was the precinct name on the business card—Precinct Twenty-Four. It was their precinct. The card was torn and worn out.
    The name was ripped off, but the title of detective was still there. Worse, it said lead detective. There were only a handful who held that title, and the only one Parker was certain of was Ralph White. He’d need Grant to confirm his suspicions.
    If Ralph was tied to these murders in any way, what would stop him from killing either of them if he realized they were on to him? Most likely nothing.
    Parker had a dilemma. He could keep his mouth shut, toss the card, and forget he ever saw it, or he could show Grant, and together they could figure out how to handle this. The stress from the investigation