“Why did you call me when you were worried he was missing?”

“Because the police won’t do anything. They said they’re sorry, they’re very busy with a high-profile investigation right now, and they can’t do anything until he’s been gone for at least two days. It was bullshit; they just don’t want to help because he’s gay.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“There are a lot of other people you could have called. And we already established that Nico isn’t always the most reliable.”

“I don’t know. I hear what people are saying. That woman, the one who got killed. I heard that it’s the same person who killed those gay guys in the fall. And now Nico’s gone, and . . . and he’s friends with you, that’s what he says, just friends, but I thought maybe you’d, I don’t know.”

“Come pick me up,” Hazard said. “I’m turning on Parcell now; just head out Market and cut up. Then we’re going to Nico’s, and you’re going to use your spare key to let me in.”

“Why do I need to pick you up? Why don’t you—”

“A/C on cold, Marcus,” Hazard said. “Absolute zero.” Then he disconnected.

He made it four blocks before Marcus picked him up in a lime-green PT Cruiser. Marcus’s dark hair was longer now, and Hazard wondered if he was trying to imitate Nico’s shaggy mop.

“I said absolute zero,” Hazard said, reaching to depress the temperature control. “Christ, you’re as bad as Nico.”

“This is why I don’t understand,” Marcus said, turning at the next intersection and heading toward Wroxall College and the newer part of town. “This is why I have absolutely no idea why Nico wants to spend any time with you at all.”

“You can drop me off, then,” Hazard said.

Marcus made a little sound of disgust and kept driving. “You’re absolutely horrible to everyone. You think you’re so much better. You talk down to people. You pretend you’re so smart.”

“Anywhere is fine. Right here works.”

“Don’t you dare,” Marcus screeched, straightening in the seat. “Don’t you even dare touch that door. You owe this to Nico after the hell you put him through. Do you know that he’s in therapy because of you?”

“Yeah,” Hazard said, “I saw the support group.” Thumbing the catch on the glove compartment, Hazard began sorting through Marcus’s unmentionables: a strip of four foil-wrapped condoms, prepackaged lube, a miscellany of Allen wrenches, God knew why, registration, insurance, and two ripped out pages from the owner’s manual showing how to change a flat.

“You don’t know how to change a flat on your own?” Hazard said.

“Do you know that when you and Nico were dating, he was going through a really hard time?”

“And why rip the pages out? What happened to the rest of the manual?”

“He was losing modeling jobs. He was too skinny. He was wasting away because he was so distressed about you—”

Hazard snorted.

“—and things were really bad with his mom. She needed money. And he liked spending his summers in New York, but he made plans to stay here because he liked you so much, and—”