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it’s the latter, my safe word’s red.”

My club-brother snorts and crosses his arms over his broad chest. Theo may not be on the beat anymore, but he keeps in serious shape.

“Karl’s in the hall. He’s scary enough to warrant locking the door.” When I grin, Theo continues. “We need to talk. Just between you and me. Radio-fucking-silence.”

Radio silence. Huh. He’s never asked me for anything of the sort before, but I’m not going to deny him. If for no other reason than he’s a cop, so he could have hauled me down to the station for this chat if he wanted to. Since he hasn’t, I figure he’s probably okay with me continuing with my plans for the night.

“You mind if I shower while we talk? I’m kind of on a schedule.”

“Sure,” he says.

I finish stripping off my sweats and store them in a locker. I’ve done scenes with Theo. I’m not bothered about him seeing me naked again.

When he doesn’t seem inclined to talk, I step into a shower cubicle, leaving the door open so I can see him, and turn on the water.

“Report crossed my desk today,” Theo says.

“Uh-huh,” I say over the spray so he knows I’m listening.

“Rick Errol. Reporting a stalker. Box of hate delivered right to his door.” Theo crosses the room, his Nikes squeaking on the tiled floor. He’s in a tee and jeans, rather than a suit, so I don’t think this is an official visit. But at least I know now why he’s locked the door and demanded confidentiality. If he’s here to talk about Rick, in an official or even quasi-official capacity, then he has to keep it hush-hush since only the management committee know he’s NYPD.

He sits down on one of the benches in front of the lockers and runs his hands through his hair, dark and cropped military-short like mine. “Not my usual case. I picked it up because I saw your name.”

“I encouraged him to report it.”

“You’re providing his security?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what’s really going on.”

“Rick’s got a stalker. Started online. Now it’s physical. Rick’s in danger; stalker knows where he lives. That’s why I told him to report it.”

“Tell me about EvonneBringsTheTruth.”

Shit. I told Rick that website would be cached somewhere.

“What do you want to know?” I ask as I lather up. The soap smells funny and I check the club-stocked bottle. Eucalyptus and lime. Meh. I’m going to have to have a word with Maude.

“Don’t fuck with me, Logan.” Theo’s growl brings my attention back to him and I meet his angry eyes. “That’s first-degree rape. Your boy is in very serious shit.”

“If the claim is true,” I say mildly.

“If the claim is true,” he agrees. “You sound like it isn’t. What do you have?”

“A duty of confidentiality to my client.”

Theo blows out a breath. “Fuck that. Not to him. Do not talk to me about confidentiality to the fucker who makes those ugly films that give kink a bad name. I’m two inches away from arresting his ass and holding him while I make a case. Tell me why I shouldn’t?”

Damn. I knew Rick didn’t make a great impression on some of my club-brothers, and the majority voted against his membership application, but I didn’t realize he’d antagonized anyone so deeply.

I knock off the water with my elbow. Wrapping one of the club towels around my waist, I go to sit on the bench next to Theo.

“Just between you and me?”

“You know nothing you tell me is admissible. It’s all fucking hearsay. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know who EvonneBringsTheTruth is. The events she says took place at the Fire Island party happened to a woman named Laurel Radford. She lives in DC. I’ve interviewed her over the phone. She says the sex was consensual. There were two other people in the room with them. A participant, Damon Tiger. He’s here in New York. He says the sex was consensual, too. He’d had sex with Laurel before; they were fuck buddies from what I can gather. The third person is a woman named Devota Donegan. She goes by the nickname Dovie. Dovie didn’t participate, but she took some of the pictures that were on EvonneBringsTheTruth’s site. She lives in Queens. I was going to interview her tonight.”

“You’ll give me everything you have. Don’t fuck around with me, Logan. Withholding evidence is a crime.”

“Come on, mate, I’m not trying to obstruct anything. You know Rick’s a Dom. Laurel’s submissive. They did a scene. The sex was rough, but it was consensual.”

Theo runs his hands through his hair again before turning his head and pinning me with a hard, blue glare. “Straight up?”

“Straight up,” I affirm. “I’m sorry Rick made a bad impression. He can be an arrogant asshole.”

Theo snorts. “Some would say that’s the definition of being a Dom.”

I shrug and rub at my wet hair with the end of the towel.

“I’m in on the interview with Miss Donegan,” he says.

I have to control my surprise. Although I’ve involved the police in several of my investigations, it was always after-the-fact. “In an official capacity?”

“Not for now, but if I need to pull my badge, I will.”

Well, when he puts it like that.

“Okay.”

I’m not sure how this is going to work, because I thought police officers had to identify themselves. But maybe that only applies when they’re interviewing a suspect. Miranda rights and all that.

“Why are you interviewing Miss Donegan?” he asks.

“She’s hiding something.”

“What? Is she EvonneBringsTheTruth?”

That’s a big leap.

“I don’t think so, but it’s possible, I guess. Did you see the box that was sent to Rick?”

Theo nods. “Pictures, yeah.”

“I don’t know if the pictures did it justice, but a huge amount of emotion went into the creation of that box. Emily—” I pause, because I’m not sure Theo knows who Emily is. I haven’t seen him since we got back from the cruise, so as far as I know, he hasn’t been introduced to her. “My submissive thinks the box is about Rick’s relationships with women. Other

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