your friend in designer tank tops for the rest of his life."

"Makes sense," Cavanaugh agreed. "He gets to keep his lost legacy while living off the interest. And I'd wager the Sapphire's next on his list."

"That one's a beaut. I've actually seen Madame Rillieux wear it at a Historical Society dinner. It has a rich, velvety color, dome shaped with a star across the top - three intersecting lines representing faith, hope and destiny. And you're right, knowing Madame Rillieux, she probably stashes it in the freezer of the ice box," Norris laughed.

"I think I'd better tail Mr. Jack Mondejar in case he's planning to add to his collection," Cavanaugh said.

"Well there's a benefit dance tonight. Peter Rauhofer is spinning. It's got just the right combination of pedigree and debauchery your pretty boy would find appealing," Norris suggested.

"Who's Peter Rauhofer?" Cavanaugh asked.

"You really ought to get out more Cavanaugh," Norris said, his right hand straying back to Cavanaugh's still tumescent organ. "But not until you pound me senseless with this gem right here." Cavanaugh laughed and proceeded to comply with the request.

3. PARES

Cavanaugh could've kicked himself. He had just spent the past three hours watching Jack from the second level of the complex where the dance was being held. All night, he stared down at Jack, shirtless and gyrating along with thousands of his closest friends, also shirtless, to the hypnotic, earsplitting beat of the music. He had tolerated all the men who passed by him with groping hands that inevitably felt up his ass or pinched his nipples through his T-shirt and a few even braver individuals who just went straight to his thick cock nestled not so safely in his jeans. All night, he eyed Jack's prime, sweaty body moving in perfect time to the rhythm. And while he couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed himself, it eventually occurred to him that instead he should have been watching the Rillieux Sapphire!

So at three in the morning, he left the dance and was practically running toward the Rillieux house when who did he see a block ahead of him going in the opposite direction but - Jack Mondejar! He had just left him in a sea of men back at the dance mere minutes ago. How the hell did he get out here so fast? And it was Jack, he was sure. Cavanaugh stayed in the shadows and watched Jack make his way through the streets, steering clear of the gas lights it seemed, and heading straight back to Ravenswood.

In minutes they had reached their destination, Jack ahead by a few paces and unaware of his pursuer. Cavanaugh was about to ring the bell on the carriageway door through which Jack had entered when the door opened by itself. Mystified, Cavanaugh went inside and looked around for anyone who might have opened the door for him. But there was no one there. Maybe Jack just didn't shut it properly, he told himself. He ventured quietly into the house, listening to Jack go up to his room on an upper floor. There was the faintest strains of jazz playing from one of the other rooms. Distracted, he recognized the song - Where Or When - as it seemed to drift along the darkened corridors. Cavanaugh knew Jack's room number and went directly there. He knocked on the door. The door was opened by a visibly surprised Jack.

"Detective Cavanaugh...how?"