“Can’t, Cam. Got a meeting. But I’ll take a rain check.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, I inspected the apartment from top to bottom. Everything was normal; except for the mantle, that is. The book and the envelope still rested in their exposed hiding place.
“s**t, Luke!” I complained. “I opened the damned thing for you. Why couldn’t you just take them and leave me in peace.” The absurdity of my remark was not lost on me.
The book was a diary. Figuring that he intruded on my privacy, I sat down and stuck my nose into his. Luke Collins started the diary about a year before his death. I felt like a thief stealing the private life of another, but I couldn’t put it down. He was a bright kid, witty, happy, and homosexual. There was mention of a few casual trysts. He was apparently ve
