Chapter 5: Inner Sanctum
I woke the next morning, somewhat surprised to realize that I’d had a good night’s sleep, and aware of the delicious smell of breakfast. I went over the major points of my current situation in my mind. I was in Quentin’s condo, in his roommate’s bed, Quentin was dead, possibly murdered by the big blond bodybuilder who was perhaps, all things considered, the most beautiful man—body and soul combined—I had ever met.
And then I realized that Horst—the man rather than the suspect—was responsible for my current sense of well-being. And the smell of breakfast.
I got up, crossed to the bathroom, and got into the shower, revelling as I always did in the comforting warmth of the spray. After the shower I did my other morning ablutions, with the kit I always carried with
