Chapter 1

She walked into my office as if she’d just

bought the place. Gorgeous, with a head of blonde curls, soulful

eyes, and a pout that made her look hard to please. A mouth like

that, you wanted to smile at just to see if it would smile back. I

tried, but she didn’t take the bait. “Richard Guy?” she asked. I

pushed my chair away from the desk and nodded. “I heard you

specialize in missing persons.”

I nodded again. “You heard right.” She untied

the belt that cinched her raincoat around her waist, exposing an

ample bosom barely restrained by her tight sweater. As she prised a

photograph from between her breasts, I warned, “I only find

them—what you do after that is your business. And you are…?”

“Tiffany Murphy,” she said, in a tone

suggesting I should have known that. The Murphys were old money,

one of the first families here in ‘Frisco, among those who came

west in search of gold. Tiffany lay the photograph on the desk

between us like a blackjack dealer turning cards. A young man

smiled up at me—I recognized those dark eyes and roguish curls.

“This is Tommy,” Tiffany said. “My twin brother.”

“I noticed.” Everything that made Tiffany a

hot dame was there in her brother, and for the first time since she

came in, I felt my temperature rise. I admit it—I’ve always had a

thing for dick. Fingering the edge of the photograph, I asked, “Who

would lose a boy like this?”

With reproach, Tiffany said, “This boy

is twenty-three. And we didn’t losehim. Five years ago, we

employed a gardener named Geoffrey Goderich. He was a rough man,

coarse, unrefined. Common, if you get my drift.” I thought I

did. Tiffany continued, “Tommy took to him immediately. I don’t

know whathe saw in that man. Followed him around the yard

like a puppy, and several times the maids caught them in the arbor

in a variety of compromising positions. The amount we paid to keep

thatquiet! Father was livid.”

I glanced at the photograph again—so Tommy

had a thing for dick too, eh? This case sounded promising. “So what

happened?”

Tiffany shrugged, a move that settled her

long curls about her shoulders. “Once the landscaping was done,”

she said, “we let Geoffrey go and assumed that would be the end of

it. Two days later, Tommy was gone, too. No note, no goodbye,

nothing.”

“And you haven’t seen him since?” I asked,

jotting down the name Goderichon a notepad I kept by the

phone. It didn’t ring any bells.

“Oh, I’ve seen him,” Tiffany assured me. When

I raised an eyebrow, she explained, “Down in the Castro.” Ah yes,

‘Frisco’s famous queer quarter. She saw the look on my face and

nodded, triumphant. “Yes, there. Corner of 18th and Castro,

last Saturday night. It was the first time I’ve seen him in

years, and you can just imagine what’s been running through

my mind ever since, seeing my own brother on the street like a

common hooker. Did Geoffrey put him up to it? Is this the only way

he can make ends meet now?”

I took down her questions in shorthand under

Goderich’s name. Tiffany frowned at the squiggles and added, “He

has a trust fund, Mr. Guy. Quarter of a million dollars, half the

family fortune, saved away in his name. Once he turned eighteen, he

was granted full access to the account. And has he touched it? No,

not one penny. I don’t even want to thinkabout how he’s

making a living. I don’t want to know—”

I interrupted her. “But you do.” At her

quizzical expression, I noted, “You’re here, aren’t you? Hiring me

to find him, though it sounds like you already know where he

is.”

“I want to know where he’s staying,” Tiffany

said, ticking off each demand on her long, perfectly manicured

fingers. “I want to know that he’s alright. That he’s not being

forcedto do…whatever it is he’s doing now. I want him to

know he’s welcome home whenever he wants to come back, no matter

what Father’s said to the contrary.” Her voice softened, and she

told me, “I want him to know that I care. Can you find him and tell

him that for me?”

I stared at Tommy’s photograph. If he was

turning tricks down in the Castro…well, it was his own life, right?

He was old enough to call the shots. But if he was half as sexy as

his twin sister, and liked to hustle to boot… I used the head in my

pants to make up my mind. “Five hundred up front,” I told her, and

Tiffany pulled out a checkbook from the pocket of her raincoat

without blinking an eye. “I’ll find him, talk to him, see if I can

answer your questions. I don’t guarantee that he’ll come running

home with open arms or anything like that. I can’t even promise

that he’ll call you.” Tiffany nodded as she wrote out the check. I

glanced at Tommy’s picture again and shifted in my seat to relieve

the sudden pressure in my groin. “It’s another five hundred when we

meet again. I’ll have a full report for you then.”

“When?” she wanted to know.