Private investigator Ian visits his friend unannounced, only to discover the man lying in bed, not asleep but dead. Ian resolves to find out how his friend died and, if he was murdered, to bring the killer to justice. But the details of the case are bizarre: the door of the condo unit is locked and the only other occupant is a bodybuilder, Horst, found sitting on the living room couch, half asleep or drugged. Ian calls 911 and the cops, when video footage showing no one entered or left the condo around the time of death, fixate on Horst as the most likely suspect. Ian is convinced Horst is innocent and offers his services to help the police solve the mystery of his friend’s death. But the situation is complicated, not only by the self-contradictory nature of the physical evidence, but by the fact that Ian increasingly finds himself drawn to Horst. Worse, the lead police detective shows increasing signs of interest in Ian himself. Love and death become strangely intertwined, their resolution not easily discovered. Is Horst as innocent as Ian believes? Can Ian help solve the locked-room mystery?

Bliss

It wasn’t the contempt associated with actual hostility or hatred, but that of gratified male vanity and arrogance. And that, I knew from experience, was generally associated with an interest in, or actual need for, sexual release—so long as this took the form of my being thoroughly abased.


I had no problem with this, whatsoever.


I said, still looking up at the cop, my voice breathless, “If you release him into my custody, I will question him, and get more out of him than you ever could.” I broke off and licked my dry lips again. “I think he has authority issues.”


The detective, after several seconds, gave a slight nod. “True. He said he hates cops.”


“There you go,” I said, smiling. “And it would help your case, help find out the truth.”


Now the detective crossed his arms across his chest, a pose with even more shiver-producing dominance. My head swam, and I felt slightly giddy. But I continued with my fa?ade of rational composure.


Chapter 13