The family lawyer had provided Dan with advice and an allowance until he turned twenty-one and was allowed to control his inheritance. Even though he was rich enough so he didn’t have to work, he was employed as a stockbroker at a small, exclusive brokerage house run by an old college friend. At one point, he confided that he was doing well enough at work to keep up his lifestyle without having to tap into his inheritance.

I didn’t go out of my way to tell anyone about Dan but it’s hard to keep secrets from your partner.

“The john?” Jack Gripper said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Yeah,” I answered sheepishly.

“It’s the house, isn’t it?”

We’d passed the house once on the way to interview a witness and I’d told Jack how I’d been in it as a kid and how it was my dream house. After arresting Dan, he’d asked me if the house was the one I’d told him about and I’d said it was.

“Geez, Jack, why don’t you just come right out and call me a gold digger?”

“Hey, I’m not casting any stones.”

Gripper really is nonjudgmental. I guess that comes from being a cop for so many years and seeing as much of life as he has. After our brief discussion about Dan and me, he never brought up the subject again, and I didn’t, either.

We were in bed when Dan first told me he loved me. I hadn’t pushed it. Just being with Dan was enough. I’ve always kept my expectations low. Like I said, I’d grown up poor and I’d fought for everything I had. My apartment was the nicest place I’d ever lived in. Most of the guys I’d dated hadn’t lived much better. I was starting to build a nest egg, but I could have done what I was doing for the rest of my life and never put away enough to live like Dan.

I don’t want you to think his money was everything, but money is always important if you grow up without it. I want to think I was in love, but I’m not sure I know what love is. I never saw it in my mother’s relationship with the occasional man she brought home. Working the streets, I’ve seen enough women with split lips and enough men with stab wounds to know that love isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I’ve never seen shooting stars or heard bells ring with anyone I dated. Not even with Dan. But, he did feel comfortable and he was sure good in the sack and I guess I felt as close to him as I’ve ever felt to anyone.

When he said, “There’s something we have to talk about,” my first thought was he was going to call it off.

“So talk,” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

The full moon hanging over the ocean made seeing in the dark easy enough. Dan rolled over on his side. He looked troubled.

“We’ve been together, what? Two months?”

“Sixty-one days, twenty hours, three minutes and one arrest,” I answered, still trying to keep things light. “But who’s counting.”

Dan smiled, but it was only for a second. Then he looked sad.

“My little flatfoot.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I love you, but I don’t know if I can trust you.”

That got my attention and I sat up.

“What do you mean, you can’t trust me?” I snapped, hurt and a little angry.

“How much of a cop are you, Monica? And how much do I mean to you?”

I thought about that. More the second part of the question, than the first. He’d just told me he loved me. What was he leading up to? I thought about living here, driving the Rolls, wearing clothes like the clothes I saw on movie stars.

“I love you, too, Dan. And I’m not so much of a cop that you can’t trust me with anything.”

“That’s what I hoped you’d say. Look, I’ll level with you. Dating a cop was as much a kick at first as dialing a call girl. I’m not sure there wasn’t even a little bit of a revenge motive in it. You know, getting you in bed after you’d arrested and embarrassed me.”

I started to say something, but he held up his hand.

“No. Let me get this out. It’s not easy for me. That’s how it started, but that’s not the way it is now. When I said I love you I meant it, but I’m not sure you’ll want to stay with me when you hear what I have to say.

“You like this house and the cars and my lifestyle, don’t you?”

“That’s not why I’ve been seeing you,” I answered defensively.

“I didn’t say it was. Aren’t you curious about how I can afford to keep them up?”

“You told me that you’re doing well at work, and about your inheritance. Besides, it’s none of my business.”

“You really don’t have any idea of how much it costs to live like I do, do you?”

“Where is this going?” I asked, suddenly growing a little concerned.

“If you learned something bad about me, that I was doing…That I was dishonest. What would happen?”

“To us?” I answered, confused.

“As a cop. Would you turn me in?”

I looked at him and I thought about us. Like I said, I wasn’t sure I loved him, but I liked him enough to know my answer.

“I don’t turn in my friends.”

“Then I’ll say what I have to say and you can decide what you want to do. I haven’t been completely honest with you about my financial situation.” Dan looked embarrassed, a look I had never seen before. Not even when I’d busted him. “I always thought my parents were loaded, and I assumed I’d inherit what they had, so I never really applied myself in school. I’m pretty bright-I’ve got a good IQ-but college was one big party and I graduated without many practical skills.

“Soon after my parents died I had a rude awakening. This house, a vacation home, a trust fund and some stocks were all I got. It wasn’t peanuts but I learned that they weren’t as well-off as I’d thought.

“It never occurred to me that I’d have to pay property taxes, the upkeep on a house like this and all the other expenses parents worry about but don’t discuss with their children. The lawyer who probated the estate taught me the financial facts of life. I held out for a while, but eventually I had to sell the vacation home. Then I used up my trust fund and sold off a lot of my stocks to keep up this lifestyle. Like I said, I have no marketable skills.”

“What about the brokerage?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s real, and I am doing okay, but what I earn just about covers the property taxes and expenses for a place like this.”

“Why don’t you sell it?”

Dan looked me in the eye. “Would you? If you had a house like this, wouldn’t you do whatever you had to do to keep it?”

I didn’t say anything. What could I say? I knew I’d kill to keep this house if it were ever mine. Dan smiled sadly. He reached up and touched my cheek. The heat of his hand felt so good that I missed it when he took it away.

“I knew you’d understand. That’s why I love you. We’re so different, but we’re the same in the ways that count.”

“If you don’t make enough to afford…everything, and you didn’t inherit enough to keep it…?” I asked.

Dan broke eye contact. “There’s no way to sugarcoat this, Monica. I’ve been dealing.”

“Narcotics?” I said, stunned. He nodded.

“Cocaine, mostly. No heroin. I wouldn’t do that. Some marijuana. I’m careful. I sell to select customers, friends mostly, some of my clients. It’s actually the only thing I’ve ever done well on my own.”

I got out of bed and walked to the window. I didn’t know what to say.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “Do you have any idea of the spot you’ve put me in?”

“I do appreciate the moral dilemma I’ve created for you, but it’s not going to be a problem anymore. I love you and I knew I couldn’t keep seeing you if I didn’t come clean about this. I respect what you do, being a cop. I don’t ever want to compromise you.”

I turned back toward the bed. “Well, you have. I should bust you after what you’ve confessed to me.”

“You don’t have to, Monica. I told you so there wouldn’t be any secrets between us, and the reason I’m telling you now is that it’s all going to stop. I had to make a choice between you and dealing, and it wasn’t even close. But I didn’t know how you’d feel about that. If you’d still want to stay with me.”