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himself; he eased up to continue his conversation, slightly surprised at his assertiveness when he got behind the computer screen. It wasn’t like him to rush into anything. It had taken him years even to consider he might be gay, although he had always known he was different. He hadn’t wanted to be…just was.
    The computer allowed him the comfort of being himself. That confidence had not reflected in his everyday life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to the world who he really was. No, that wasn’t the truth ; he hadn’t come out because of his mother. It would kill her.
    So he hid — hid behind the computer screen. He wanted to shout it from the rooftop, but wasn’t at that point. He couldn’t. Online, Tony said he lived in the Middle Ages.
    “ Times have changed, man. It’s nothing. You live in fuckin’ Massachusetts. They accept everything as normal.”
    Rey sighed as he shook his head. Maybe Massachusetts would accept him, but Tony hadn’t met his mother. He couldn’t do it to his mother. He loved her too much…the thought would kill her.
    God bless her. Italian Catholic, his mother had long clung to her beliefs of the world through the eyes of the church. His hardworking mother had sacrificed so much to raise him by herself after his lowlife father ran off with his whore. She would be devastated. To her, he would be condemned to hellfire. She had been through enough in her life. He didn’t want to add to her misery.
    He took another sip of his beer…beer, his mother would overlook, because boys would be boys. His experimenting with drugs would be a different matter, but it made it easier to cross that line. A line he had crossed last month at Rob’s house party. Since then, he had been searching for that feeling again. Suddenly, an instant message popped up on Facebook…his new friend.
    His new friend had been pressing Rey to meet up with him. He wanted to meet tonight. An intriguing proposal, one, after another sip of beer, that sounded more and more interesting. He reached into his jacket pocket, took out a small container with a pill, swallowed it down with his beer and turned to his computer.
    * * * *
    He sat in the car waiting…preparing. He learned long ago to be patient. There was no need to rush. Humming to himself, he put his gloves on his hands, tight and snug. He checked his belt buckle to ensure it was secure.
    He glanced at his watch . Almost time. His heart raced with anticipation. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a movement. He smiled. A silver Audi pulled into the parking lot, exactly where they had agreed. He ignited his engine and slowly pulled in behind his new  friend .
    He opened his door and stepped into the brisk night air. Straightening out his coat, he briefly thought the city seemed unusually quiet. An absolutely perfect night for a rendezvous. Unhurried, he walked over to the passenger door and tapped lightly on the window.
    He heard the door unlock. Excitement assaulted him. He loved this part…the look in their eyes. He opened the door and slid in beside the kid. The kid didn’t even have time to contemplate his fate.
    He gripped tight ly to his instrument of death. The kid screamed, but quickly went silent as the shiny metal knife plunged into his heart.
    * * * *
    Saturday, 7:01 a.m. Brophy drove the unmarked Crown Victoria down Mass Avenue. The sun had barely edged over the horizon when his beeper woke him. Not long after, Captain Centrello called and wanted his unit to head up this homicide. It had the same MO as two high-profile murders in the area.
    The press had been all over the other two murders : one in Cambridge, the other in Dedham. Hadn’t been one in the Boston jurisdiction until now. Young men, college kids, violently killed with a single knife thrust into the heart.
    Crossing over 93, he turned in to the South Bay shopping mall. He made a mental note. The location gave easy access to three major arteries of the city in a matter of