Chapter 1
The Nation’s Top Male Model, Mark Antonious Richfield, held his son, Isaac’s hand. As summer floated to a close, and autumn created a dizzying display of color in the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, Mark and his nearly three-year-old son, Isaac, or ‘Zak’ Milton Richfield, explored a pumpkin patch. This would be the first year Mark was planning on dressing his three young children up for the spooky holiday. His second husband, a twenty-seven-year-old man, Stan Charles Richfield, (Bergman) held their son, Jacob Bentley’s hand as they walked around the rows of bright orange gourds. With them on this excursion, was Blake Hughes, their fulltime nanny, and a former fireman from LA. He held their youngest child’s hand. Lily Hayden was closing in on her first birthday and with help, was walking pretty well, although while at home, she preferred crawling. The wind blew dry leaves around them as they searched for that perfect pumpkin. ~ While his father was out with the kids, Alexander Mark Richfield, Mark’s eldest son at thirty-one, raced down the long hallway of the manor house in Paradise, California. His dog, a white saluki-mix mutt named Lady, barked at him as he escaped. Alex glanced into empty bedrooms in the enormous home, since they had thirteen, lucky number! He found talent agent Adam Lewis on his computer in their study, working on getting his clients parts. When Alex peeked in, seeing Adam with his headset on while he typed on the keyboard, he caught Adam’s quizzical look. Alex put his finger to his lips to shush him and entered the library looking for a place to hide. Lady was with him, wagging her tail. “Dog! Get lost!” Alex tried to shoo her. ~ Former police lieutenant Billy Sharpe was on the hunt. He and his celebrity husband, Alexander, were home on this Friday in October. This November, Alex’s father was turning fifty. But, no one mentioned that number in front of Mark. ‘Peter Pan’ didn’t want to be reminded of birthdays. Billy was nearing fifty-two, and, meh. Who cares? He’d never felt more physically fit in his life…and…he wasn’t a model. He heard his dog barking and then she shut up. Billy peered into bedrooms, seeing Steve Miller’s empty bedroom, one with sliding doors opening to the outdoor pool. Billy kept searching. He looked into the study, hearing Adam working, talking into his headset, then Billy searched the spa. The weight room and sauna were empty. He glanced into the theater room, which was also empty. Billy stood at the arched threshold of the library. Mark’s deceased mom, Leslie Richfield, had a passion for books. This room was as she left it: floor to ceiling bookshelves. Billy spotted his mutt wagging her tail as she stood near a folding card table, one with a jigsaw puzzle on it. Shaking his head at his husband, since Lady gave him away, Billy walked quietly to the table and took a look under it. Alex was ‘hiding’. Lady wagged her tail at Billy. “Dog? You ratted him out.” Billy petted her, and while he was distracted, Alex tried to scoot out and flee. Billy lunged for him and scooped him up into his arms. Alex wriggled and laughed his head off at their silly game. A game Billy had grown fond of. A game of find me… And get to fuck me.
