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though I knew Elissa secretly thanked me for proving to George that he could father a child. It secured her place in the Saunders family fortune, producing the family heir.”

“Troy Saunders,” Paolo said, “I've met him. . . or at least, a man claiming to be him. He lives down at Danvers’ estate in Carmel.”

“Yes, he's been a ward of Danvers Converse for more than ten years,” Rose said matter of factly. “Since George went cuckoo.”

“Okay, so what does all this have to with the violence at Number Two? We all know George lives in San Francisco as a near-vegetable.”

“He's crazy is what he is,” Jack said.

“Oh, don't be so harsh on old George,” Rose said with a hint of fond remembrance. “Think about it, he's rich, powerful, but with a secret for his enemies to exploit. Life back then wasn't like it is today, boys, look at all of you, living out and proud, your own exclusive gay enclave up here on Eldon Court. No one cares what you do—or who you do. For George, it was so different.”

“And for Danvers Converse.”

“Yes, well, in a way Converse himself is a victim, but how he has dealt with it is what makes him such a dangerous enemy,” she said, “Danvers Converse and George Saunders were in love, their affair the worst-kept secret in Wonderland, and Elissa, well, she just turned a blind eye to it all. She had what she wanted—Troy—so she let the two tycoons screw each other whenever and wherever—with one exception.”

“Number Two,” Marc said.

“You got it, cutie,” Rose said. “Now, no one truly knows what happened that night, but I'll tell you this much—George and Danvers were there, as was fourteen-year-old Troy. There are conflicting reports about Elissa's presence; no one truly knows where she was.” She paused, the actress going for a dramatic effect. “And that continues to this day.”

“So Elissa. . . she's the one who was murdered?”

Rose nodded. “That's my belief.”

“And if we can prove that,” Parker said, finally stepping out of his mother's shadow to take the lead, “and not just that she was murdered, but who did it, Rose and I may finally lay claim to the Saunders estate, the house at Number Two and all that comes with it. And if we get what we want, the Wonderland Palaces will not and cannot happen, Danvers Converse will have nothing to hold over us. Of course we would never sell, not when I finally claim my birthright as George Saunders first-born son.”

“This is getting complicated,” Paolo said, looking up at Parker with newfound interest, gaining a bit of insight into his motives. “So, Parker, all this time, you've been working against Danvers, even while you allowed us all to think you were our enemy. You've been playing both sides, and whoever came out the victor, that's where your loyalties would side?”

“Yes, and no,” Parker said, “If I lost my claim, Danvers would be none the wiser that my true motives were to destroy his plan. If you guys lost your fight, I would have an inside track to Danvers, working for him, and as such I'd be able to wield influence from the inside. Trust no one, question everything.”

Words like that, they silenced the room and it was broken only when Edgar spoke. “Okay, boys, this is enough for tonight, I think. Don't know about you, but my head is spinning from all these facts.”

“Mine, too,” Jack offered.

It was clear the party, such as it was, had reached an end. But Paolo wasn't satisfied, there was still one thing that had him curious. He said so.

“What's that, my dear?” Rose asked.

“The digging up of the lawn. . . what are you looking for?”

“Gold,” Edgar said impulsively. “Right? That's the true secret of Eldon Court, it's where the Saunders fortune came from, that much I've been able to discover. Drew and his lover, they mined gold on this land their entire lives. But perhaps there's more waiting to be found somewhere deep within the bluffs.”

“Ah, yes, the gold,” Rose said, “it's pure speculation at this point, and besides, that's not our immediate concern. . .”

“Finding Elissa Saunders is, wherever she is,” Parker said, “and since nobody has seen her since that night, it's a no-brainer that she'd dead. I believe her body has got to be buried somewhere on the property, and I aim to find it.”

* * * *

Rich North's mind was swirling with all he'd absorbed tonight, like he'd just seen a three-act play with one of gay culture's most iconic actresses, a mix of high camp and family secrets that would make O'Neil blush and Williams turns to drink. But that drama was nothing compared to what he was facing is his own life. Marc continued to give him the cold shoulder, even as they walked back toward their house at Number Five, even with all the past sins revealed and the emphatic notion that if you stick together you can defeat anything or anyone. Together, that was their motto.

“You want to talk?” Rich asked as they boarded the steps to their darkened house.

“About what?”

Rich heard the distance in his Marc's voice and it wounded him, more so than any bullet could. Reaching out, he took hold of Marc's hand, bringing them both to a stop. Darkness crept around them; even the half-moon was covered by clouds. All the light from their lives had been taken, leaving in its obsidian wake an empty void.

“Marc, come on, we can't keep living like this, you not talking to me. . .”

“What do you want me to say? That every word you've even spoken to me was a lie?”

“Hey, that's not fair, Marc,” Rich said, “Everything I do, I do for us, even if I don't chose the right path.”

Marc laughed with obvious disdain. “So that's how you excuse your behavior? Christ, Rich, you're something else, the way you explain away your indiscretions. I always used to admire how you carried yourself—your strength

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