“Not a bad idea. Take some time away from the city.”

Rick’s head whipped around. “You’re serious. You really want me gone.”

“I want you safe.”

“Forget it, big guy, just dismiss the thought. I’ve got a solid week of shift plus built-in overtime. We’ve got bills to pay.”

“Get real,” said Milo. “When’s the last time we worried about making the bills?”

“Not since the Porsche was paid up. But now I’ll probably need a new car and that’ll mean new monthlies and we were talking about taking some time off and going to Europe this summer, so I need to stockpile revenue.”

Milo didn’t answer.

Rick said, “You were serious about Europe? I’ve been organizing my entire schedule with an eye toward taking a month off.”

“I was serious.”

“Maybe we should travel right now.”

Milo shook his head.

“Why not?” said Rick. “If you’re right, why stick around and be a target?”

“The weather,” said Milo. “If I bother to lay out bucks for Europe, I want sunny weather.”

“Now you’re a meteorologist.” Rick took hold of Milo’s arm. “What if your anxiety doesn’t level off? Am I supposed to go into long-term exile?”

“It’s not a matter of anxiety. It’s my finely honed sense of threat.”

“That stupid rumor those cops were talking about? I’ve been thinking about that. For all you know, there is an HIV-positive detective in your division. Someone deep in the closet. Or those cretins were just flapping their gums the way cops do. I know, I see them all the time when they bring in suspects. Standing around drinking coffee and gabbing while we sew the poor devils up.”

“Another West L.A. gay detective,” said Milo. “Sure, that’s likely.”

“Who says he’s gay? And, what, only you can be a celebrity?”

“Yeah, that’s me, a star. Rick, it’s more than the rumor—”

“That old case, I know. Maybe it was shunted aside all these years precisely because no one gives a hoot. What if you’ve just built it up in your head, Milo? With Alex’s help.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you and Alex have this bizarre chemistry. The two of you put your heads together, and strange ideas start to pour out.”

“I’ve found Alex to be right more often than he’s wrong. And what’s the murder book, a schoolboy prank?”

“It’s possible.”

Milo was silent.

“Fine,” said Rick. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. Get me a rental.”

Milo drove Melrose west to Doheny then north to Santa Monica Boulevard. Past the clubs he and Rick no longer patronized.

Rick said, “Where exactly are you going?”

“Beverly Hills. The Hertz office at the Beverly Hilton.”

“As a well-known companion of mine always says, ‘Hoo-hah.’ Maybe I’ll rent a Rolls.”