For the Love - 18. Chase and Shawn

Our lunch was finished in an uncomfortable silence, due to both of us being a little rattled by strangers recognizing us as 'Chase and Shawn'.

As we got up to resume our shopping binge, Steve tugged on my arm, "If we get 'recognized' again, let's try and push for more information. Maybe there are two guys around who are our twins? This is beyond weird and we need to figure out what's going on."

We hit a few more stores, and then remembered that I wanted to find a gift for Steve's parents. A major department store seemed like just the place to look, so we strolled into the first one we came to.

While browsing in the appliances aisle, looking at combination grind-and-brew coffee makers, I had the feeling that I was being watched. I turned around suddenly, momentarily locking eyes with a college-age guy, who quickly glanced away, adjusting his glasses. Twice more I caught him looking at us, and at first I assumed that he was just scoping out some eye candy, but he was being way too obvious about it for my tastes. He was staying close as we moved through the store, hovering around, checking us out, and quickly looking away whenever I glanced in his direction.

I signaled Steve with a look and we left the store. A quick look back seemed to confirm that the guy wasn't following us. I pulled Steve aside as soon as we were back in the main walkway of the mall. "Dude, that guy was weird," I said, noticing a lemonade stand a few yards away, "let's go grab something to drink, and maybe by the time we are done he will be gone; I want to get your folks one of those coffeemakers we were looking at."

After buying our lemonades, we found a table and sat down. I was feeling really strange, and every time someone glanced at us, I was left wondering why. I didn't have much time to be paranoid, though, as I was interrupted when the guy who had made me uneasy in the department store walked right up to us;"Are you guys Chase and Shawn?" He asked.

Steve shot me an exasperated look, before turning to face the guy, "No, but people keep asking us that. Who the hell are they, and do they look that much like us?"

The guy gave us some odd looks before replying, "Well, just some guys on the Internet. You guys look just like 'em," he turned to Steve and continued, "Are you sure you don't have a small birthmark on your left asscheek?"

Steve was taking a drink of his lemonade, and choked so hard that he sprayed lemonade all over the table, and me. The guy became nervous and turned to leave; Steve shot up and grabbed his arm, telling him, "Whoa, bud. Yeah, I do have a birthmark there. This is way too weird, you've gotta tell us what's going on here."

Steve kept a firm grip on the guy's arm, but had him sit down with us. The guy began to stammer, getting very nervous before blurting out, "Uh, the guy on the website, Shawn, who looks like you has one there. Maybe you have a twin or something?"

"And the other guy looks just like me?" I asked.

"Yeah, you look just like Chase."

Steve's eyes narrowed as he asked, "What kind of website is it?"

The guy became very nervous and tried to get up. Steve held onto him, pulling him back down as the guy blurted out, "It's, uh, sort of a picture page."

That comment, combined with the way he was checking us out in the department store, combined with his mention of the birthmark's location, gave me a sudden hunch regarding the reason the guy might be nervous. I decided to re-assure him;"Steve and I are gay, so if that's what you are worried about, relax."

The guy did relax slightly, and continued after beginning to breathe again, "Yeah, it's a gay picture site. And I swear, you guys could be their twins. Are you sure it's not you? All I wanted was an autograph."

I shook my head, "No, sorry, it's not us. But we need to find out what's going on. What's the URL of the site?"

"I don't know. I have it bookmarked at home..." He lowered his voice to a whisper and continued, "But if you do a search for 'Chase and Shawn's fuckfest', you'll find it."

We thanked the guy and he left as soon as Steve let go of his arm, giving us an uneasy smile along with his parting glance. Steve and I sat, shell-shocked and silent, for several minutes.

Steve put his head in his hands, mumbling, "I've never put any pictures online, and I have a real bad feeling about this."

I nodded, "Me neither, and yeah, something's up."

We left our lemonades – mine, and what remained of Steve's that I wasn't wearing – behind, and I quickly made my purchase in the department store. I tucked the coffee maker under my arms, and without another word, by unspoken mutual agreement, we cut short our day in the city and headed for home.

Upon exiting the mall, I felt the familiar wave of oppressive heat as we stepped out into the triple-digit afternoon temperature. Once we reached the Charger, I placed the coffee maker in Steve's trunk. I tugged at my now-sticky shirt, while Steve chuckled.

"Sorry about that, man. Here, clean up a little," he said, as he retrieved one of his emergency water bottles from the trunk and handed it to me.

I pulled off my shirt, threw it in the trunk, and bent over to rinse off my arms and upper body. Steve helped by pouring the water, and then pulled off his shirt and used it to help dry me off.

We jumped into the Charger, and I cringed as the hot vinyl seared my bare skin, while Steve made sure the air-conditioning was on full. After a stop for gas, we were on our way back to Lonesome Valley.

As we left Phoenix far behind, Steve said, "This is way too weird. Two guys look just like us and have a gay website? Shit, this is too much to be a coincidence."

I nodded, "What really scares me is if those damn Fundies find out and say it's us doing porn."

That thought chilled us both, and we talked about everything else during the remainder of the drive, but stayed away from the subject of the website; it was as if we both just wanted to avoid thinking about it.

As soon as we got home, we dashed to Steve's room and hit the power button on his computer. The computer finished booting, and Steve sat in the chair with me standing behind him and leaning on his shoulders. Steve opened up a search engine, typed in 'Chase and Shawn's fuckfest', and sure enough, the very first hit bore that exact title.

Steve clicked on the link, and I heard him gasp as the title page opened; right below the page title were two large, high quality pictures, side-by-side. The one on the right was me, and the one on the left was Steve. They were both shirtless pictures: him in Levi's and me in shorts. The backgrounds had been taken out and replaced with flat blue, but either it was us or we both had identical twins.

Steve scrolled down the page, and gasped again as it finished loading; staggered down the page were photos of us, or our twins, together and naked on a bed, apparently having sex. The pictures had been closely cropped, leaving nothing but bare skin and the sheets visible; even the faces were partially obscured.

Steve swore, pointing to a picture that clearly showed a very familiar birthmark, "Damn, those look exactly like us. We need to find out what's going on here, but this is a pay site."

I looked, and saw what Steve meant; the site promised picture galleries, videos, and live web cams, but to gain access you had to pay. Steve said, "Dude, we need a credit card to get in."

A credit card was the only way in, and Steve didn't have one, so I dug mine out and handed it to him, "Use mine."

For once, Steve was too involved to argue. He opened up the 'subscribe' page, and found that it cost $9.99 for a one-week trial membership, and then $25 per month thereafter. Steve entered my credit card info, chose a password, and soon enough we were in. The main page loaded, revealing a series of links to numbered galleries. At the bottom of the page were links to web cams, numbered one through five.

We loaded the first gallery, and found dozens of graphic sex photos, again featuring guys who looked like us, or our twins. However, this time, there was a difference; the photos had not been edited. Steve and I both recognized the surroundings immediately as his bedroom

Steve turned pale and spun to face me;"That's this room... Chris, that's, that's us... Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah, 'fuck' is the appropriate term for what we're doing in those pictures. The big question is, how the hell did those pictures get taken and put on the web? Oh, shit, if the Fundies find out about this, we're fucked!"

Steve brought up the second gallery, and it was very similar: dozens of pictures of us getting it on. Steve returned to the main page, swearing, and was about to open another gallery when I asked him to check out the rest of the page. He scrolled to the bottom and clicked on Cam1.

It took a few seconds for the viewer to load and buffer the content stream, a picture of an empty bed greeted us when it finally did. A little to one side you could see a seated guy, shirtless and facing away from the camera, with someone's hand on his shoulder. It took a second for us to figure it out, but Steve, still seated, held up his hand, and waved. After a couple of seconds, so did the guy on the screen. I took my hand from Steve's shoulder and waved it around; again, the Cam picture, after a delay, showed the same.

Steve stated the obvious, "Oh, my god. We're fucking being broadcast live! That cam is in my fucking room..."

Steve leapt up, turned around, and started moving forward, checking the screen over his shoulder a few times. Finally, he moved his hand up to the wall over his door, and the screen went dark a second later.

"It's in the God-damned air vent!" Steve yelled.

Steve bolted from the room and into the garage, and I returned to the computer. I pulled up Cam 2, finding different view of Steve's bed, this one from high above. I looked up, and figured it had to be something in the ceiling fan.

I pulled up Cam3, and found a wide-angle picture with a drain in the middle of the shot. It took a moment, but I recognized it as Steve's shower.

Steve returned with a screwdriver and a flashlight. He immediately set to work taking off the vent cover. After he removed the last screw, leaving it clatter to the floor, he grabbed a chair and climbed up to look, shining the flashlight into the duct.

"Chris, it's some kind of camera. Looks like it's aimed through the slats of the vent, right at my bed. There's a cable coming out of it and running back into the vent as far as I can see."

"While you were getting the tools I checked out more of the cam links. There's another one in this room, plus one in your shower." I said, my head beginning to spin from the shock.

Steve stepped down off the chair, and, stunned, came over to look at the computer screen, which still showed a picture of his shower. He muttered, "Let me guess, it's in the exhaust fan?"

"I don't know, but I guess so. There's also one in the ceiling here in the room, probably in your ceiling fan."

Steve reached over, took the mouse, and opened up Cam 4. It wasn't his room, but it was familiar to both of us. It was the bed in my room, from the side.

I swore and yelled, "Shit, they've got my room wired too. That must be from around the back window, the one I have covered in foil."

Cam 5 was a wide-angle shot from high up in my room, showing the bed and most of the room. I had no idea where that camera could be.

While I had been pulling up the cams on the computer, Steve was working in the bathroom and, hearing a clatter, I went in to check. Steve had the cover off the exhaust fan, and as I watched he reached up, pulling out what looked like a thick tan cable with a little sphere at one end, "It's a micro camera," he said in a voice tinged with rage.

I took Steve by the arm and lead him into the back yard, "I had to get us out of there, because we don't know if it's just video, or sound too. The point is, somebody has your place and mine wired up with spy cameras, and they broadcast live on the Internet."

Steve turned pale, looking me in the eye, "I swear, I have no idea what's going on here and I had nothing to do with it!"

I grabbed Steve, pulling him into a hug, "I know that. Hell, even if I didn't trust you, you did more to uncover this than I did. But, somebody with your last name is at the very top of my suspect list."

Steve hesitated, and then slid his arms around me, pulling me in tight, his chest beginning to heave with emotion as he spat out the words, "Oh, shit. But it fits; it's a pay site, and Eric loves money."

"Yeah, but, that's just a guess on my part. If it's Eric, he's probably running the camera cables into his computer and then to the net from there. Let's go check."

We pulled apart, our hands lingering together for a moment, and went to Eric's room. The door was closed but unlocked, so we went right in. Eric wasn't there, which made things a little easier. The first thing we noticed was that Eric's computer was on, but the monitor was turned off. Steve clicked it back on, but the screen saver was active, and moving the mouse just brought up a password prompt; Eric had the system password-locked.

I eased the tower case a few inches away from the wall and motioned for Steve to look, "See those cables? They are the same as the ones to the cameras, and run right into the air vent in the floor behind the computer. The first cam in your room is in the air vent. I guess this is what your dad would call an open and shut case."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, and Dad will have a lot to say about this. A year ago he worked a case where some guy had put a camera in a bathroom. He got really emotional about that, called the guy every name in the book. I think what we should do is catch Eric when he gets home, and then let Dad do his job."

"You mean show your dad the website?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, he's gonna need to see it, and the cameras."

"Steve, think about that. He's going to see what we are doing in those pictures!"

"Yeah, so? He knows we have sex, and yeah, I'm not too comfortable about him seeing the pictures, but he is a cop, and he's gotta see at least the cam feeds. So will some of his cop buddies and the DA, I guess."

Breaking out in a cold sweat from the thought of facing that, I glanced at a clock; it was close to six, and I asked Steve, "Any idea where your folks and Eric would be?"

"Dad has a shift today, and should be home soon. Mom had some kind of a meeting, and Eric should be here because he is still grounded. If I had to bet money, I'd say Eric knows their schedule and will be slithering in any minute now."

I nodded, and checked in the closet, just to be sure: no sign of Eric.

We left Eric's room and went to Steve's room to have another look at the website. I felt uncomfortable there, knowing that an untold number of eyes were watching, and perhaps people could listen, too. While Steve browsed the page, I grabbed a couple of T-shirts from his closet, and lay one next to Steve before pulling the other one on. Steve looked at me, and then the shirt beside him, "Whoever is watching has seen a lot more than my chest already, but yeah, thanks," he said, his voice flat, before pulling on the shirt.

I watched as Steve went to the last gallery in the list, and clicked it open. I cringed as I saw myself, lying on my bed, naked and hard, blindfolded with a blue tie, "That was just the other day..." I gasped, as Steve scrolled down the dozens of other pictures obviously taken that day.

Steve surfed on the site for a few minutes, as I watched his jaw clench and unclench, a sure sign that he was seething with anger. He slammed aside the mouse and stood beside me, opening his mouth as if to speak. He paused, glancing at the air vent, and threw his hands up in silent rage. We walked out to the backyard, where he exploded, "We can't even talk in my room, we had more privacy in the middle of the fucking mall!"

I wrung my hands as I answered, "I know. I don't know what I'm feeling right now."

We looked at each other in silence for a few moments, as I began to wonder how the camera wires had been run to my apartment. I looked around, and soon found my answer; an extra cable, blue in color, running with the electrical, TV, and phone lines that went from my apartment to the main house. At the house, the blue cable ran under the eve and into the attic through a vent.

I heard a door close, and Steve looked at the house, saying softly, "I'll bet that's Eric. Let's get the bastard!"

Steve and I ran into the house, but Steve stopped at the living room couch, "If we can scare and intimidate Eric enough, we might get the truth out of him. Shirts off!" Steve yanked off his shirt and tossed it on the couch, and I followed suit.

We walked to Eric's room, finding the door closed. A gentle turn of the doorknob confirmed that the door was locked. Steve didn't hesitate; he reared back and kicked it, his shoe slamming into it with a resounding crash, sending it flying inward in a cascade of splinters as the doorjamb shattered and the door flew open. Steve charged in, with me right behind him. Eric was sitting at his computer, staring at us, a shocked look on his face.

Steve grabbed Eric from behind, twisting him into a headlock while I went to the garage and retrieved the rope that we had used to tie him up when we discovered his blackmail scheme. Eric wasn't struggling much by the time I got back, so I set to work tying him in the chair.

"Why are you guys doing this?" Eric finally spoke up.

Steve yelled, "We found the website, Eric. And the cameras. I warned you about screwing with Chris or me again, and putting spy cameras in our rooms sure as hell counts!"

Eric didn't seem at all flustered by this disclosure. He told Steve, "I was just trying to make some money."

"Dad's just gonna love that one, Eric."

"You don't want to tell Dad about this. How about you guys forget that the cameras are there, and I cut you in on the take? I'll give you a percentage."

Steve slapped the back of Eric's head, hard, and yelled, "Forget they're there? Forget that who knows how many people are watching us have sex? No way! The only reason I haven't ripped everything out is so Dad can see it. You're going to do time for this, Eric."

"Steve, trust me on this: you don't want Dad or the police involved. I'm hooked up with some guys you really don't want to mess with. Can't we work something out?" Eric asked, growing agitated.

Steve drew his arm back to slug Eric, but hesitated, before putting his face an inch from Eric's, yelling, "Tell us everything, right now, or we’re gonna helpyou make some money. You want a show for your live cameras? Well, shithead, you got it. I'm going to drag you to my room and then Chris and I are going to put on one hell of a boxing demonstration, with you as the star attraction. Then I'm going to call Rob and Joe, and have them come over and drill you, live on the Internet. That should boost your fucking web traffic."

Eric looked into his brother's eyes, and whatever he saw there finally had an effect. Eric trembled, sweating, as he turned his head to look at me. I just nodded and slammed my fist into my hand. I didn't even have to act.

Eric shuddered, his voice trembling. "W-w-w-when you guys caught me at the bank, that waitress said you guys should make some money with your looks. That's what gave me the idea. I-I-I-I'm not really gay," Eric wailed, "I lied to get you guys to believe me."

"Explain one thing, right now; why did you look surprised when Steve and I got home from the bookstore after the Piedmont cops tried to grab us?" I yelled.

Eric turned an even lighter shade of pale, "I d-d-don't know what you mean," he stammered.

I turned to Steve, "He's lying. We screwed up; we told him we went back and saw the footprints where we found the data stick. That confirmed we had it and that we knew the Sheriff was involved. The cops that tried to grab us knew for sure we had it, and knew when and where we would be. There’s only one way they could have found all that out." I said, turning to glare at Eric.

Eric seemed to calm down a little, the color returning to his face, and the calculating glint to his eye, "You guys wouldn't really do anything to me on camera, 'cause you would get in trouble too. Now, let me go and forget about what you know, or I start making phone calls to my friends and them, you don't want to meet."

I saw Steve's eyes open wide with shock, before narrowing with rage. He pulled his arm back and swung, connecting with Eric's gut, hard.

Eric yelped in pain, and doubled over, gasping for air, "Stop. I swear, I can fix this, just give me a chance... "

Steve cocked his arm back, "You already had your chance, and nearly got Chris and I killed, again. But guess what, shithead, you fucked up. Chris and I are minors, so your little camera trick is kiddie porn in addition to all the other charges you'll face. You might cut a deal and trade information for a lighter sentence, but if not, I think you will be tried as an adult, and go away for a hell of a long time, and you knowwhat guys in prison do to a pretty young piece of meat like you, and they won't bother with lube, either."

Steve swung his arm back across his chest, and swung in an arc, open-handed, connecting with Eric's face; Eric reeled back, and was in no shape to resist as Steve gagged him with the duct tape.

Before I could say anything, we heard the front door open. "Dad's home," said Steve, with a smirk at his bound and gagged brother. Eric must have heard the door too, because he began to struggle again, trying to break free, all the while leveling us both with looks of contempt.

Steve grabbed one side of Eric's chair as I grabbed the other, and we lifted him easily. We maneuvered the chair, with Eric still firmly bound to it, out through the bedroom door.

Together, with me walking backwards in the lead, we carried Eric down the hallway and into the living room where we set the chair down with a thud.

Mr. Williams must have heard the noise, because he came out of his office, a puzzled look on his face, until he saw Eric. He studied us for a second, hung his head, sighed and asked, "What's he done now?"

"I think it's better that we show you." Steve answered, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on, motioning for his father to follow him to his room. I pulled my shirt on and followed, dreading what I knew Mr. Williams would see.

Steve gave him the short version of how we had encountered several people who thought we were some guys named Chase and Shawn, and how one had suggested we do a search for their website. Steve then opened the entrance page, and his father, seeing the pictures of Steve and I, gasped. He sat down at the keyboard, while Steve guided him through the site.

I cringed when Mr. Williams saw the graphic pictures on the entrance page. I wished I could just melt into the floor, but thankfully he was facing away from me, so I didn't have to see his face. Steve handled signing in, and opened the main page. He told his father "You probably don't want to look in the galleries. They are like the other pics, but more graphic. I want to show you how they were taken."

Steve opened Cam1, and continued, "These are live camera feeds. Look at this one." Steve's timing was perfect, for no sooner had he finished than the picture came up, and Mr. Williams saw his own back. He stared at it for a second, and then moved his hand in a slow wave. He started to say something, but then after the delay saw his hand move. Steve simply said, "That camera is in the air vent."

Mr. Williams slowly pushed himself back from the keyboard, stood up, and followed Steve's gesture towards the vent and camera. He looked in, and examined it, being careful not to touch the camera as he did so. He turned to ask a question, but Steve anticipated it and handed him the flashlight. He peered into the vent, then climbed down and looked at the computer screen again. He asked, "This is coming in over the Internet?"

"Yeah, it is. It's a live web cam."

Steve's father continued looking at the screen, and pointed to the links to the other cams.

Steve answered the unspoken question, "That's for the other cameras. We found four more, and there are a bunch of cables running from the back of Eric's computer into the air vent."

Mr. Williams shuddered, turning white as a ghost, and asked, "Other cameras? Where are they?"

"One in my ceiling fan, one in my shower, and two in Chris' apartment."

For the first time, Mr. Williams looked at me, shook his head, opened his mouth, but I guess he couldn't find anything to say. I was relieved. He soon found something else to say though. "Guys, this is a whole laundry-list of felonies. I've got no choice but to handle this as a criminal case, and I need to turn it over to another officer due to conflict of interest."

He picked up Steve's phone, called dispatch, and asked for at least two deputies to meet him at his residence in order to investigate a major felony, and to take a suspect into custody. As soon as he hung up, he turned to Steve and I, "Get Dex over here, tell him it is official business and the department will pay him for it. This involves computers, so I want him in on it. I have a feeling we are gonna need him."

Steve nodded, and pointed to the air vent, placing his finger over his lips. His father caught the reference, and pulled us out into the hall, "Damn, should have thought of that. Go call Dex from my office," he said to us, before adding with a growl, "I gave that little SOB one last chance and he sure as hell blew it. I should have known better."

Steve and I made a beeline for Mr. William's office. Steve handled the call. I noticed the desk drawer was open. I glanced in, and noted that the booby-trapped Data Stick was still in place, not stolen as we had hoped.

A shocked exclamation from Steve returned my attention to the phone call, and I watched Steve lean over and check the drawer, before mumbling into the phone, "But its still here, I just looked... Okay, see you when you get here."

Steve hung up and stared again at the fake Data Stick, then turned to me, his face blank with shock, "Dex was just about to call us.He said he just got an email from that thing in the fake data stick. He won't talk on the phone, but he's bringing it over and he says its major news."

"How the hell could that happen, its still here..." I said, my head spinning from confusion.

Steve shook his head, "The hell if I know, but Dex was sure, and he said he would be here in twenty minutes."

Steve's father was glaring at his youngest son, and informing Eric at full volume of the trouble he was in, including the kiddie porn angle Steve had already mentioned. I could see fear in Eric's eyes, which only grew more pronounced as the police cruiser accompanied by flashing lights arrived in front of the house, illuminating the front windows with flickering red and blue lights.

Steve opened the front door as two Lonesome Valley officers arrived. They came in, and stood attentively as Mr. Williams gave them a rundown on the situation.

Steve and his father lead them back to Steve's room to show them the website and cameras. I didn't want to be there, as it was both crowded and humiliating, so I sat in the living room and glared at Eric. Eric mainly ignored me, and was gagged so couldn't speak, something for which I was grateful.

The two officers came out, led by Mr. Williams, so I beat a hasty retreat and joined Steve in his room. Steve didn't say a word; he just pulled me into a hug, as we both glanced at the air vent wondering about the countless eyes that must be watching.

I felt more than heard the unmistakable crackof a gunshot, and as the echo faded, my eyes met Steve's, his opening wide in shock.