Sam sat at his desk listening to the recorded message and nervously running his hands through his dark hair. He needed a copy of Charlie Biscay"s customer list fast. But Charlie"s home phone had apparently been disconnected, and the floral shop he owned was closed. But why would Charlie close the shop mid-week, Sam wondered? He placed the phone back on its cradle and slid the mud-stained note card back into his pocket.
Sam was already in an agitated state, and this new development was not helping. Charlie Biscay had been his friend since college when Charlie was still struggling to hide the truth about his s****l preferences. One day Sam had unexpectedly dropped by Charlie"s apartment to borrow a camera when he saw a series of intimate photos of male nudes in Charlie"s dark room.
Althoug
