On the next day at work, Toby checked with Zach, who said he was checking the e-mail every day as well. "Just to see who, out there, wants my body," he laughed.

Toby cocked an eyebrow. "Never can tell. Might be some good ones."

Zach shook his head. "Too late. I've got enough going on with José. I couldn't handle any more just at the moment."

Sam laughed when Toby told him this over dinner. "See? It never rains but it pours. Is Zach living with José yet?"

"Don't know," Toby said, passing the garlic bread. "They weren't at the pool yesterday, and I forgot to ask today."

"I'll bet he is," Sam said with a wink. "Oh, I was out at the house today. Mary said you and she need to get together about the paint, and right away. The guys want to finish painting before the floors go in, and that's probably late next week."

"Okay. I'll call her-maybe take an afternoon off work."

Sam nodded. "You already know what you want, don't you? This is just a formality."

Toby laughed. "Look, you have to at least look like you're considering different things. If you don't, nobody thinks you've given it any thought." He shrugged. "So we go look."

Sam just shook his head.

"Oh, by the way, I had a call from Dad today."

"Good. What'd he want?"

"Well, he said it was to thank us for the dinner. But what he really wanted was to know if you're an embezzler, a thief or a counterfeiter." Sam raised an eyebrow, and Toby laughed. "The money, Sam. Remember when you took that pack of money out of the safe and told me to give it to Dad? Tell him to take Mom someplace nice?" Sam nodded. "Well, I did."

"And he thought-"

"Exactly. I told him not to worry, you're multi-talented." He laughed. "I also told him to take a hundred dollars out of the pack and put the rest in his checking account."

"Why-"

"See, if it's ten thousand or more in cash, the bank has to report it. If it's less, the bank doesn't. And they won't ask any questions, because they don't actually want to fill out reports, which take time-just red tape that nobody wants." He shrugged. "Oh, and he said thanks, too."

Wednesday evening, after dinner, Sam was reading, and Toby was on the computer.

"Bingo!"

Sam looked up from his book. "What've you got?"

"Martin."

Sam closed his book and went to see. "That's him alright. I'd know that dick anywhere."

"Here." Toby selected another picture and brought it up. It was a full body shot, both face and dick. And it was definitely Martin."

"He send Zach an e-mail?"

Toby nodded and brought it up.

"Man, you're just what I've been looking for all my life. Please take a look at my profile. It's not as good as yours (who took those pictures?) but I hope it'll spark some interest. Please, take a look and e-mail me back.

Clark

"Well, would you look at that?" Sam said, pointing at the signature. "I think that's pretty bold, don't you?"

"Not really," Toby said. "I'll bet he's just taken over Clark's life. Why not the name, too?"

Sam thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, makes sense when you say it. You going to answer?"

"Not yet. Have to check with Zach. I don't think both of us should be answering. I mean, it's a matter of style. Even a terminally horny guy ought to be able to tell when it's two different people talking to him." He brought up Martin's profile again. "Hey, look here. He says he's in Florida. Ft. Lauderdale."

"Yeah, but that could be a lie, too, couldn't it?"

Toby shook his head. "Doubtful. If you're looking to hook up with guys, why would you say you were someplace you weren't? We did it because Palm Springs might make him suspicious, but your average guy who wants to get his rocks off wants you to know where those rocks are." He went through Martin's profile pictures slowly. "He sure is a hunk," he said, turning to Sam. "No wonder you liked to fool around with him."

"Yeah," Sam said, patting Toby's butt. "There was just one thing missing." Toby looked up, and Sam kissed him. "I didn't love him."

Toby took Friday off and went to the paint store with Mary. They went through hundreds of samples and by noon had picked colors for all the rooms. Afterwards, they met Sam and Bill for lunch at The Rainbow.

"This man is so amazing," Mary said as drinks were served-beer for the men, iced tea for Mary. "He knew exactly what he wanted." She turned to Toby. "I don't know why we bothered looking at all those samples."

Toby took a swallow of his beer. "Well, you never know. There could actually be something new out there." He looked at Sam. "But there wasn't."

That night José and Zach came for dinner. Afterward they drafted an answer to Martin:

Hi, Clark-

Checked your profile and all I can say is WOW! We need to spend some quality horizontal time together! I would just love to take your-no I won't tell you. I'll wait until I can SHOW you. But man, what an-well, what an everything!

This is going to take some arranging, as all good things tend to do. You're in Florida, and I'm in Phoenix. But we'll think of something.

E-mail me back if you're still interested.

Zach

P.S. You asked who took the pictures. That was my wife. I think she masturbates to them when I'm out of town.

They agreed that if anything would get to Martin, it was that e-mail.

"So what's the rest of the plan?" José asked.

"I think we have to get him to Palm Springs somehow," Sam said. "Somewhere that Andy can see him-make the comparison to the coroner's picture."

Zach's eyes lit up. "How about we get him over here for a weekend of debauchery at Some Guys? This Andy guy could certainly see him there, all of him."

"Good thinking, Zach," Toby said with a mischievous grin. "Maybe we'd also get to see all of Officer Andy. He is a cute little thing."

"Wait a minute," Sam said with mock seriousness, "he is also an officer of the law. Besides," he grinned. "you're taken."

The e-mails flew thick and fast for the next week. First, Martin wanted Zach to come to Ft. Lauderdale. Zach said he didn't think he could manufacture a reason for that. He said that he traveled a lot on business but always west, not east. His wife might get suspicious if he did something different.

Then Martin wanted to come to Phoenix, but Zach nixed that, telling him that he and his wife were quite socially and charitably active in the town, and his policy was to never have that kind of meeting within a hundred miles of home. Never.

Finally Martin set his own trap. Could Zach get to Palm Springs? If he could, Martin knew a gay, clothing-optional resort, called Some Guys, where they could spend a weekend of bliss.

Zach e-mailed back:

SexySkin-

It WAS meant to be. I have to be in PS on Friday the 16th to get some signatures and take a client to dinner. I'll tell my wife I'm staying over to check out a couple of real-estate developments, so I can stay until Monday morning. That would allow us the whole weekend, unless you get tired of doing-well, what we're going to be doing a whole lot of. Let me know.

RedHot

He attached a picture of his hard dick lying across his palm.

The next Saturday, when they were out at the house, Mary asked Toby what they were going to do for furniture. "You're not going to go with straight-edge, mid-century vinyl, are you?"

Toby laughed. "Not hardly. It's going to be more like mid-century comfortable. Sam needs a comfortable reading chair and something to put his feet up on. I think that calls for cloth upholstery, something in a geometric pattern maybe." He put his hand on her shoulder. "It may be a great restoration, Mary, but it's also going to be a place for people to live-Sam-and-I-people-and if we aren't comfortable, what's the point?"

She nodded. "Makes sense. You got a lot of furniture picked out?"

"Some. Not much. Sofa. Dining set. Bed."

"There's a shop that just opened in Uptown Palm Springs. They specialize in mid-century stuff and have a great inventory. Want to go shopping?"

They did and spent the whole afternoon at it, all in one shop. At one point Mary asked Toby if he shouldn't be consulting with Sam on some of the things, but Toby said no. "This kind of stuff is, frankly, boring to Sam, and I'm willing to bet that I'll get a very pleasurable reward for keeping him out of it." Mary didn't bother to ask the nature of the reward.

When they got back to the house, there wasn't anyone there; they were all next door helping Tom and Dan dispose of their gin-and-tonic supply.

The next day Clark and Jeff dropped by to make sure Sam and Toby would be at the Labor Day buffet at the pool. "Scotty's doing it, and it promises to be a good one," Jeff said. "You have to come."

"Yeah, and I'd skip lunch if I were you," Clark added. "You know how carried away he gets. I'll bet he's been cooking since Wednesday."

That evening there was another e-mail from Ft. Lauderdale.

HotRedMan.

It's all set. The room is in my name, and the guys are expecting you late Friday the 16th. GO DIRECTLY TO BED. ALONE! I want you fresh for me when I get there around 10 in the morning. I have plans for you, some involving raspberry jam and red pubic hair. So ignore all those other guys, at least until I get there. Then...well, we'll see what develops, won't we?

Now I have to go read War And Peace. Anything to keep my mind off you. And my hand off my dick!

ForeverHard

P.S. Can I have one of those pictures of you? The ones your wife uses? Please?

"Now there is a horny, desperate man," Sam observed, reading the e-mail again. "What do you suppose he's going to do with the raspberry jam?"

Toby laughed. "I have no idea, Sam." He paused and thought. "But I was once with a guy who did some very creative things with a jar of pizza sauce." He attempted a leer. "Wanna try it?"

Sam kissed him on the nose. "Only if it's the kind with extra basil. You going to answer that?"

"Nah, I'll leave that to Zach. He and José are really getting off on this, I think." He turned serious. "Shouldn't you be talking to Andy pretty soon? The 16th is only two weeks away."

"Right. I'll call him Tuesday."

The Labor Day buffet turned out to also be a celebration of Sam and Toby's new status as Domestic Partners. And, as usual, Scotty had outdone himself with the buffet, which included an ice cream cake set over a bowl of dry ice. On top of the cake were two naked groom figures with the appropriate anatomy attached. You could tell they were grooms because they were holding hands and wearing top hats. Everyone loved it.

At one point in the celebration, Walt Wentworth came to congratulate them and admired their rings. He asked where they got them, and when they told him, he let out a low whistle.

"Man, you must love each other just one hell of a lot to go to Tiffany's. That's one expensive store."

Sam grinned. "Love knows no bounds, Walt."

"Yeah, and no budget, either," Walt added. "But they are beautiful." He glanced across the pool where his partner, Nick, was talking to Mike Armstrong. "Shit!" he said to himself. Then, to Sam and Toby, "Gotta go."

The next thing anyone knew was that Walt gave Nick a hard slap across the butt and was dragging him out the gate by his arm.

"What was that all about?" Toby asked of no one in particular.

"Jealousy, fear and, to some degree, I imagine, sex. Or lust," Ben Williams, who happened to be passing, answered. "Sometimes I really wish they'd stop, but, of course, they won't. This is the only place they can get an audience so conveniently."

"You think they do it just to get attention?" Toby asked.

"Yeah, but not the attention of anyone you might think. I think they do it to get each other's attention. And I wouldn't be surprised if by now they weren't slapping and cursing and fucking like minks."

"Gives tough love a whole new meaning, doesn't it?" Sam said with a grin. "Oh, well, to each his own, I guess."

"You guys up for some food? I see our newest resident over there sampling the buffet," Ben said, nodding towards Zach, who was feeding José one of the tiny appetizers that were Scotty's trademark.

"He's living with José now?"

"Moved in Saturday. Charlie and I gave them a hand. Seems like a nice guy. Handsome, too, with that coppery red hair. We only saw the stuff on top, on Saturday. You know him?"

"Yeah," Toby said, "I work with him. And he's a nice guy."

"Good. He'll fit right in. Besides, we need more handsome guys to dress the place up."

Privately, both Sam and Toby thought there were lots of handsome guys dressing the place up, but they didn't say anything.

On Tuesday morning, Sam called Andy and invited him for six o'clock drinks in the Blue Bar at the Hyatt. When Andy asked what the occasion was, Sam simply said, "We found him."

It seemed like a long day to Sam, who felt very much at loose ends. He worried that Andy would think they'd gone too far or maybe feel they were usurping his job. To kill time, he went out to the house, but found himself in the way of the painters, although they were very nice about it and didn't say anything.

He went next door, but Tom and Dan weren't home, so he finally went back to the condo gym and worked out for a couple of hours.

At six sharp, Sam, Toby and Andy met at the Blue Bar.

"So you found him, did you? Where? And maybe how, but I'm not sure I want to know that."

"Don't worry, Andy. It was all on the up and up," Toby said.

"Uh... new ring?" He looked back and forth at Sam and Toby. "They mean what I think they mean?"

"Yeah, I decided to keep him," Toby said with a laugh. "I just couldn't let him go." He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say?"

"Nothing. The expression in your eyes, both of you, says it all." He looked just a little pensive and took a sip of his drink. "So what'd you do to find our man. Oh, and where, exactly, is he?"

They explained about Martin's fetishes for red pubic hair and married men and the profile they'd set up on the website. "Then we just let it sit and marinate," Toby said.

"And he walked into it with his eyes wide open, as they say. He's in Ft. Lauderdale, but to save you the trouble of explaining all this to the Ft. Lauderdale police-"

"A difficult job at best," Andy interjected, "considering a foreskin-or the lack of one-is our main evidence."

"Anyway," Sam went on, "he suggested Zach meet him right here-in Palm Springs."

"Where?"

"Even better," Toby said. "At a gay resort called Some Guys. Which, just to frost the cake heavily, is owned and run by friends of ours."

"How the hell do you guys fall into shit like this?"

"It's the power of clean living, Andy. You ought to try it sometime." Sam looked at his watch and changed the subject. "I'm hungry. You want to come to dinner with us? We're buying."

Andy held out his arm. "Twist."

They went to Spencer's.

Henry saw them come in and immediately ushered them to the bar. "Your table isn't quite ready, sir. Please, have a drink-on us. It shouldn't be long."

"You had this planned all along, didn't you?" Andy said when their drinks were served.

Sam shook his head. "I just thought of it, back there at the hotel."

"You have a standing reservation? I'm impressed!"

"Hardly," Sam said, raising his drink. "We have an under standing waiter." They touched glasses. "To Henry, the best waiter in the world."

When they were seated and had ordered an appetizer sampler, Andy said, "There is one little thing. I talked with the chief about this-he thinks it's funny, by the way, or maybe he thinks foreskins in general are funny, I don't know. Anyway, he says it would sure be helpful to have fingerprints for both of them. That way, if we should catch one of them we'd know which one it is."

"But the foreskin..."

"I know, I know." Andy shrugged. "But the chief thinks fingerprints are better."

Toby tried the coconut shrimp, with obvious pleasure. "But I thought identical twins had identical fingerprints. I mean, they have the same genetics, don't they?"

Andy tried a lobster potsticker. "Well, yes and no." Sam looked pained, but Andy went right on. "They are identical at the start, but since the two babies can't be in the same place at the same time in the womb, then outside things, like skin and fingerprints, get subtly changed depending on where they rest, what they rub and so on. So, by the time they're born, there are little differences all over the skin. It takes an expert to spot them, but they're there."

They were silent while the busboy removed the appetizer dishes and Henry served the main course. Once each had sampled his dinner and pronounced it excellent, Andy went on.

"Getting this Martin guy's prints should be easy. They'll be all over his stuff. It's the other one's that's a problem."

Toby seemed distracted for a moment and then suddenly snapped his fingers. "No it's not." Andy and Sam both looked at him. "The business card, Sam. The brother's business card in the book-and the book, too, maybe." He turned to Andy and began to choose his words carefully. "Uh, there's a book on the dresser in Martin's guestroom. Clark's business card is in it, as a bookmark. I don't think, uh, anyone else has touched it."

"And you know this how?"

Toby smiled. "Common knowledge, officer. Common knowledge."

They finished dinner while Officer Andy contemplated the extent of "common knowledge."

Over dessert, Andy started to say something but then quit, an odd look on his face.. Toby asked him if something was wrong.

Andy laughed. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about you guys, moving into your house and wondering what happens to the condo. I mean, if you're going to put it on the market, I might be interested." He sighed. "Well, maybe not. The salary and savings of a simple cop probably wouldn't cover something like that." He shrugged. "Nice idea but no cigar, as my dad used to say." He looked at his watch. "Hey, I've gotta go, guys. Thanks for the dinner, Sam. I really appreciate it."

The rest of the week passed in a flurry of e-mails from Martin and a flurry of deliveries of furniture, rugs and house wares. Toby, and sometimes Sam, had been spending a lot of free time searching for just the right pieces to go in the house and had been surprisingly successful at it.

On Sunday morning, over a breakfast of French toast, sausage patties and boysenberry syrup, Toby said, "And what did you make of Andy the other night? Wanting to rent this place, I mean. I thought he was straight."

Sam laughed. "Me, too." He held up a forkful of French toast dripping with syrup. "This stuff is wonderful, Toby. Thank you."

"Well, the berries looked pretty good in the market. I couldn't resist them."

"For the future? Make a mental note: never resist. Albert used to make something like this, but yours is better." Sam proceeded to eat the toast, then looked up with a sheepish smile. "Don't ever tell him I said that."

Toby grinned at the compliment, his mind still on Andy. "So why would a straight man want to live here?"

Sam mopped up the last of the syrup with the last of the French toast, ate, and put down his fork. "I don't know, Toby. Maybe we should ask him." He thought for a moment. "Let's take him out to dinner one night, soften him up with a couple of Spencer's martinis."

On Monday, when Sam called, Andy said he was free on Wednesday night and would very much like to have dinner with them. They agreed to meet at Spencer's around six-thirty.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity at the house and Sam found himself mostly listening to questions, going home to Toby to get answers and, the next day, spouting those answers back to Bill and the workmen. He was quite relieved when Wednesday evening came and they could have a good dinner with a guy who was fast becoming a good friend.

Andy was already at the restaurant when Sam and Toby arrived. Henry saw them as they came in and hurried over.

"Will you have a drink at the bar with your friend, or would you prefer to be seated right away?"

Sam looked at Toby who smiled and said, "Table. That is if we can get Andy out of the bar."

"I'll take care of that," Henry said. "Oh, and since he's been here with you in the past, I took the liberty of putting his drink on your check. Is that..."

"That's fine, Henry. Thank you."

Henry showed them to their table and then went back to retrieve Andy and order their drinks.

"Evening, guys," Andy said as he sat down. "Thank you again for the invitation. I could really get to like this place. Now, what's up?"

"Condos," Sam said, looking directly at Andy. "You want to tell us why you think you'd want to rent ours?"

Andy sat quite still for a few moments, then picked up his drink and emptied it. "Can I have another, Sam? This is kind of hard to talk about."

Sam looked across the patio and managed to catch Henry's eye. He held up his drink, and Henry nodded. They sat in silence-with Andy obviously working out what he was going to say-until Henry served the drinks.

Andy took a sip and swallowed hard, before he spoke. "I was married once, when I was just a kid. I was nineteen, and I made a mess of it. I got married because all my buddies were doing it, and I figured I should, too." Andy paused and took a sip of his drink.

"I made a mess of it because..." his voice faded off into silence for a couple of beats. "Well, because I couldn't do it... the bed thing. Oh, sometimes it worked-especially when I was a little drunk-but mostly, I couldn't perform, as they so delicately say. But I'll say it: I couldn't get it up." He looked from Sam to Toby and back again. "I just couldn't seem to connect with her." His voice became almost a whisper. "Or any woman."

He drained his drink again and quietly said, "Could we order now?"

Sam beckoned to one of the busboys. "Could you find Henry for us? We'd like to order."

"Yes, sir," the young man said, and immediately headed for the kitchen.

Once they had ordered, Andy seemed to have pulled himself together and was actually smiling. "It's hard, you know," he said, "admitting to that-that you can't get it up-especially to another man. Somehow it seems... well, unmanly."

"It shouldn't," Sam said. "It's happened to most of us at one time or another."

Andy nodded. "But with me it's... most of the time."

Toby nodded. "Most of the time?"

They were interrupted by Henry, serving their salads. When he had gone and the salads had been sampled and approved, Andy looked down at his and said to it, "Sometimes I'm fine. When I'm... you know, when it's just me."

"Just you?"

Andy looked up and laughed, seemingly breaking his own tension. He also changed the subject. "Okay, so I'm this macho cop. I know everything about people and the crimes they commit." He looked back and forth at them. "But what I don't know, what I've never found out, is exactly what two guys do to each other in bed and how it feels to be doing it." He shrugged. "Oh, I know the mechanics of it. That's not difficult to figure out, even if there weren't so many jokes about it flying around the stationhouse. But what I don't know-"

Andy was interrupted by the busboy, looking for plates to remove. Andy looked at the boy's name tag and said, "Soon, Pablo. Soon." He looked at Sam and Toby and said, "Come on, guys. We'd better eat before,' he grinned, "this gets cold."

Both Sam and Toby thought he was using the time to organize his thoughts again and left him to it. They ate their salads in silence.

Once Pablo had removed the salad plates, Henry immediately arrived with their main courses, giving Andy that much more time to think.

After they'd tasted and approved their dinners-stuffed prawns for Toby, rack of lamb for Sam and rare steak for Andy-Sam looked up and said with a grin, "So you thought you could rent our condo, go out to those so-called orgies around the pool, and get some relatively anonymous, safe, first-hand experience with men. Find out, as it were, how it's done with a real guy, is that it?"

Andy had the courtesy to blush. But he also nodded. "I guess, Sam, in a nutshell, that's it." He put down his fork and said, "Yes, I know I could go out to one of the bars and find a guy, but that scares me shitless. I mean, what if he laughed at me? What if I couldn't get it up? What if I, you know... What if I gagged or, God forbid, threw up on him? What if it hurt so much I had to make him stop?"

"And at our place," Toby said, "you wouldn't be alone with just one guy. You'd be in a crowd and could easily slip away if you weren't attracted to anyone or things got difficult."

Sam laughed. "Not as easy as it sounds, not with that group. But the truth is, Andy, there really aren't any orgies around the pool. Lots of naked men, yes. Orgies, no." Pausing to think, he ate a bite of his rack of lamb. "On the other hand, you could always go into the showers and let Mike Armstrong suck on your dick. If Mike can't get you up, no one can. And there's usually a guy or two in the steam room who'd be happy to let you practice on them."

Toby finished his prawns and sighed with pleasure. "Andy, I'm curious but, please, stop me if I'm out of line."

"Go for it, Toby. After tonight I have no secrets."

"Well, I was wondering a couple of things. First, didn't you have any experience with guys? I mean, in middle school or high school?"

Andy shook his head. "None. I never even thought about it, and there certainly wasn't anyone offering."

"Okay. Second, who do you think about when you're jacking off? Girls? Guys?"

"You probably won't believe this, but I can't remember thinking about anyone-in the beginning. I... I thought about how good it felt doing it and how much better it would feel at the end. But I didn't have... fantasies. Those didn't start until college, after the divorce. Then they were mostly about other guys doing it with women, letting me watch, kind of like watching porn."

"Okay," said Sam, dropping the last chop bone onto his plate. "Let's cut to the chase. There are two important questions to answer here." He held up a finger, the way Toby did with a list, "One: Since the Home Owner's Association won't let us rent out the condo, how about you come and stay for a few months as a house guest? You can get to know the guys and play in the showers and steam room as much as you like."

"Oh, Sam, I couldn't let you do that."

"Wait, Andy. There were two questions to be answered," Toby said. "Sam?"

"Number two," Sam said, holding up two fingers, "is what shall we have for dessert? I'm up for the cappuccino ice cream."

That seemed to break all the tension that had built up around the table, and suddenly they were just three buddies discussing the merits of chocolate versus cappuccino ice cream. They each ended up with a scoop of each.

Later, at home, Toby asked Sam what he thought about Andy.

"A sad tale," Sam answered. "Twenty-eight years old and he's never experienced the sheer joy of sex with another person. And all this time not knowing just who he really is. That, I think, is the worst part. He's never really known himself."

"You going to let him live here for a while?"

"The question, Toby, is: are we going to let him live here for a while."

Toby put his hand on the back of Sam's neck and began massaging it. "I'm working on it, Sam, really I am."

"I know. And I love you for that, too. As to Andy, sure, why not? Maybe he'll find himself. Maybe he'll even find someone else. Now, come on, let's go to bed, huh?"