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now, I kissed him instead. For a moment I felt resistance; then he melted into my arms, kissing me with equal ferocity. I pinned him against the wall, just because I could, although that made some bruises I had forgotten about suddenly ache. Damn, being tenderized by a bat really was a pisser.
    He sensed my sudden reticence, because he pulled away and asked, “Are you all right?”
    “I keep forgetting I’m black and white and red all over.” I caressed his face, feeling his stubble under my fingers. He hadn’t had time to shave before coming over here.
    Why was I having such a hard time getting over a damn cop? Of all people, how did I fall in love with him? It was like the universe set out to have me fall for the most inappropriate person I possibly could. He was completely squaresville and completely sweet, while I was a drunk loser more at home with scumbags and weasels. It was an accident it happened in the first place; it was a pure comedy that we couldn’t seem to shake off each other.
    There was a knock at the door, and one of the cops said, “Detective, the sergeant wants to talk to you.”
    “Be right there,” Kyle said and then gave me a quick but promising kiss on the mouth. He still tasted like coffee. “I need you to go somewhere safe ’til this blows over. Something about this case stinks to high heaven.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    I stepped back so Kyle had a clear shot at the door, but he grabbed my arm and said, “No, Jake, I mean it. The Giardi case is being tabled.”
    “What?”
    “It’s already been nudged over to the cold-case pile, and I don’t know why. All I know is someone high up in the department suggested our priorities laid elsewhere.”
    That made no sense at all. I know a small-time club drug dealer wasn’t going to attract a lot of police resources, but brushing him under the carpet? That was nonsensical.
    I knew I distrusted police. Now I knew why.

9
     
    A S SOON as I could, I sidled up to Sloane and whispered to him, “Did Sander have a black book? A client list?”
    He glanced at me with his curious wide-eyed stare, made all the worse by his lingering horror. But he was still completely fuckable. “On his phone.”
    “No backups?”
    He started shaking his head but then paused, getting a slightly dreamy look in his eye. “Maybe….”
    “Where?”
    Sloane was still a bit stunned, but he eventually snapped out of his daze and headed for the bedroom Kyle and I had ducked into previously. What I hadn’t noticed, mainly because I had my tongue down Kyle’s throat, was that the bedroom had two single beds, separated by a rather large bedside table. It was like something out of those ’50s sitcom, where they were trying to convince us straight married people never slept together. Probably true for the very closeted, but I doubt that was the message they wanted to send. Considering these were twin brothers, it was a little creepy, yet they probably couldn’t have afforded this condo separately.
    Sloane sifted through an assortment of crap in the table’s single drawer, including condoms, Chinese food menus, and a spare set of keys, but finally Sloane pulled out a tiny black figurine in the shape of a bird, maybe a hawk or an eagle. When he held it out to me, for a second I didn’t understand. “Sometimes he backed stuff up. I don’t know if he’s done so lately.”
    It wasn’t a figurine, it was a flash drive, just a comically shaped one.
    I slipped it into my pocket when one of the cops appeared in the doorway, asking for my gun. I didn’t like it, didn’t want to hand it over, but I knew they confiscated weapons used in shootings. I’d get it back, probably too late to do any good. Luckily, that wasn’t my only gun.
    As soon as we could possibly do it, I got Sloane out of there. On the drive downtown, he was curled up in the passenger seat like he was cold, now wearing an oversized jacket over a sweatshirt he’d hastily pulled on before we left. It made