An email arrived from Thibaud a few weeks after they had returned from France. He was as saucy as ever in his recollection of the time he had spent with Alex and Guy. The real point of the email was that Thibaud had been gossiping with one of his college flames about the sad events of that early December.

Thibaud’s friend related a possibly important story. When on a vacation in St. Thomas, another college friend told the friend that he had been looking to charter a boat for a day’s sail. While waiting for the hotel’s recommended charter captain to meet him, he saw someone he thought was Cal Stephenson in the harbor bar where he waited. He was so convinced that it was Stephenson that he greeted him by name. The person denied being Stephenson and quickly left. He had chalked it up to the similarity of the appearances of handsome men and his own faulty recollection. On Thibaud’s mention of the case, he was convinced again that it had been Cal Stephenson.

Alex met Guy at the door with a copy of the email. “Look at this. Cal Stephenson may have been spotted in the Caribbean.”

“Whoa. That is amazing. It’s not certain identification, but it would break things open if it is Stephenson.”

“How can we find out if it’s really him?”

“Things are pretty fluid in the Caribbean, by and large. Their history of piracy is only barely forgotten today. Without an official request through the State Department, I doubt any other inquiry would be answered. Even then, if it does not pertain to the territorial government of St. Thomas, they’re unlikely to expend any effort. Fugitives from the law are an important industry down there.”

“We can’t just let this drop. Do we have to go down there ourselves?” Alex was adamant.

“It can’t be we. I’m an officer of the court and if I see someone suspected of crimes, in this case murder, I have to do all I can to have him arrested.”

“Are you saying I should go to St. Thomas and see if I can spot Cal Stephenson?”

“Alex, I’ve known you for two years. My good sense tells me that you should stay as far away from Stephenson as possible, for a number of reasons. First, what little I know of him is that he’s wanted for murder and second, he’s quite a handsome man. I’m not one for jealousy, but I’d rather you waited up nights for me right here, far from harm’s way.”

“But…”

“But, knowing you, you’ll wheedle until you get your way. Like the night before last.”

“What?”

“You know. I was dead tired, but you wanted to play.”

“You weren’t so tired that a blow job didn’t catch your interest.”

“Fine, but once was not enough. No, you were at me all night long.”

“But I love you and I’m really, really turned on by you.”

“Of that I have no doubt.

“So you can’t come with me?”

“You know I can’t. Anyway, we were just away for two weeks, I’m swamped at work.

“Well its conference season at the bank. I’m sitting on my hands. Maybe I can find a conference down south and get them to pay for my trip?”

“Just take the time and go. I’m going to be a wreck until you are back safely. And I’m going to miss your all night pestering. We’d better start stock piling sex now. Strip, my lover, to the skin. I intend to have my way with you.”

“I love it when you’re forceful.”

“Just you wait, I’ll be very forceful.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come here.”

***

Alex was able to book a flight to St. Thomas for later that week. It was a nearly tearful parting at the airport, but Guy suppressed his anxiety and Alex responded eagerly to the waiting adventure. Alex diverted time on the flight by flirting with a flight attendant whom he left disappointed at the airport upon landing.

Once on the ground he took a cab to a beachfront hotel. He missed Guy immensely and began to regret coming to St. Thomas alone. After a quick wank to relieve some stress he went to the lobby to inquire from the concierge where he might charter a boat. He was offered several package tours, which he declined, saying that he preferred a private charter. The concierge recommended going to the marina where many boats were for hire. He did recommend caution, however, the marina having a reputation as a hangout for less than savory characters. However, if one wanted to contact a possible charter, the recommended place was the harbor bar at the end of one of the piers.

Tired from the journey, Alex decided to wait until later to venture out and retired to his room for another round of relief and a nap. It was getting dark when he awoke. He showered and went to the lobby to catch a cab to the marina. The cab dropped him off at the entrance, giving him directions to find the harbor bar.

The pier had seen better days, having been significantly damaged during a hurricane. It listed heavily to one side like a sailboat in a high wind. The harbor bar at the pier’s end had been somewhat propped up toward level, but had its own distinctive cant. Alex speculated that it would take a fair number of drinks for it to seem plumb.

Adopting a friendly smile, Alex approached the grizzled bartender. “Excuse me. I’m looking for someone. A friend told me I might find him here.”

“Look, buddy, we get all sorts in here, but I think the kind you’re looking for go to Auntie Lulu’s downtown.”

Alex had never felt that ‘obvious’ before. Still he persisted. “I was looking for a boat charter run by an old acquaintance. He’s a tall man, pretty big, strong.”

“Like I said, fella, we’re not that kind of bar.”

Alex was nonplussed. “Tell you what. I’ll write a little note. If I could ask you to show it to all the big guys – yes, good looking guys – who come in, I’d appreciate it very much. Here’s half of how much.” Alex put a hundred dollar bill onto the bar. The bartender made the bill disappear. Alex took some paper offered by the now cooperative bartender and wrote a note.

Cal,

I know you didn’t do it. I think I can help you. I’m staying at the Westin.

Alex – yes from the college

Alex left the bar, dimly hopeful of a response. His cab was waiting by the entrance where he had been dropped off. The driver explained that he was guessing he’d be back shortly and that he was hoping for some recognition for his services. Alex duly complied and returned to the hotel.

It was a long night. Alex had not spent a night away from Guy since they had met. There had been a night or two along the way when they did not make love, but it was at the peak of the flu for one or the other and after some effort to provide comfort. They had worked through a lot of sheets. Hugging pillows was not the same as Guy’s hard body and harder cock. Eventually he did fall asleep.

He got out of bed late in the morning, more due to the sounds of housekeeping approaching his room than any desire to move. Reluctantly, Alex wandered to the beach front restaurant for something to eat. He ate a desultory breakfast then retired to a shaded lounge. He drowsed in the heat and humidity, passing the afternoon. As evening approached he roused enough for a swim in the sea and then sat at the swim up bar. A middle aged couple tried to engage him in conversation, but his monosyllable responses left them flat. They moved on to other prey.

Just as he had decide to return to his room, the bar tender leaned over the bar toward Alex. “Hey, your name Alex?”

“Yes. Do you want me to sign the check?”

“Well, yes, but there’s someone who wants to talk to you. I don’t want any trouble at my bar, so I warned him off. He said he’d wait by the end of the beach.”

“Thanks.” Alex added a substantial tip to the bill and set off along the water’s edge. Beyond the hotel lights the beach was very dark. The tropical jungle approached near the sea further obscuring his vision. Just as he was about to turn around a figure stepped out from among the plants.

“Alex?”

“Cal?”

“I’m Ron now. Cal is dead.” The deep voice was unmistakable. This was Cal Stephenson, Alex was sure.

“You’re Alex, the one Cal had in classes, the one he advised?”

“Yes, it’s me, Ron”

“What did your note mean, that you could help me?”

“By a series of accidents, I’ve come across information about what happened at the college. I don’t know everything, but I have enough to question any conclusions the FBI came to. They could never solve the case because they didn’t make the right connections. There’s more to this thing, and I’m finding out what that is.”

“Why, Alex, why are you involved?

“Because I saw something and when I told the FBI, things didn’t go right. And I need to do what I can to fix that. I’m too far in to stop now.”

“Okay. It’s not really safe to talk here. If I’m going to trust you, you’ve got to trust me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Follow me, if you trust me.”

The figure moved back into the brush. Alex followed, trying to keep sight of Cal in the gloom of approaching night in the dense jungle. Alex was both exhilarated and terrified. Cal was a big man. He could easily kill Alex with his bare hands. Hiding a body for the few weeks it would take the tropics to decompose it would be easy. Alex pushed away these thoughts and plunged through the undergrowth trailing the figure ahead.

They emerged onto another beach, cut off from the hotel by a headland. There was a small dinghy pulled up on the beach. Cal pushed the boat into the water and signaled for Alex to follow. Alex thought, ‘take me a few hundred yards off shore, hit me with an oar, and dump me overboard. Even easier than in the jungle.’

Cal sensed his hesitation. “I don’t blame you for being afraid. But don’t be. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to someone, really talked to them, I need this, too. Get in. My boat is anchored just beyond the reef. You can get your private charter after all.”

Alex thought he saw Cal wink in the dim light. Alex got in the dinghy. Cal pushed off, hopped in and started rowing. Not far from shore, Alex spotted the anchored sailboat. Cal struggled a bit against the waves cresting the reef, but through main force propelled the dinghy over the waves and alongside the sailboat. Alex stayed low in the cockpit while Cal expertly raised the dinghy onto davits and got the boat ready to sail.

“Take the wheel a minute while I get the anchor up, would you? Alex complied. “Now steer her out to sea, I’ll get the sails set and then take over.” Alex nervously turned the wheel so the boat nosed away from the shore. The sails snapped for a short while. Cal pulled on lines and the noise quieted to just the wind blowing and singing of the shrouds. Cal had just hopped back into the cockpit when the boat began to heel, having caught the wind further from shore.

“First time sailing?” Cal asked.

“Yes it is,” Alex answered nervously.

“It’s not hard to do. It looks pretty complicated, but it’s not really. A few lessons and you could handle this boat on your own. I asked for your help because I’m lazy.” Cal’s smile showed through the gloom.

“So what do you know?” Cal asked after a time.

“What I know doesn’t make sense. That’s why I came to find out from you. I figure if we can put the whole story together, we can close the case and free the people whose lives are trapped by something they didn’t do. And maybe make those people responsible pay for it.”

“The FBI thinks you killed Mr. Marcus and either kidnapped or killed Samir. They never found a body, so that part is unclear.”

“I did not, could not hurt Stu Marcus. I never spoke to Samir, did not know him, until after. You mentioned that you saw something that you told to the FBI. What was it?”

“I hope this isn’t too painful…”

“Painful? My life has been unending, unendurable pain since that afternoon in December. The second person I ever loved was taken from me and killed. I didn’t think I’d survive the first time, but when Stu died, it ripped my heart out. Can you believe me?”

“I’ve known that all along. What I saw was you and Mr. Marcus, Stu, together.”

“We got to be pretty open around campus. I don’t think that’s anything special.”

“I’m not talking about you two on the bench, though that was a revelation to me. How two men could be affectionate. Look Cal, I’m gay, always have been. But until I saw you and Mr., Stu together, I didn’t know it could be a good thing. But I’m talking about something more. Do you remember going to the gay bar across the river?”

“Oh that, that was a disaster. I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“I was lurking in the shadows, afraid to be seen by anyone from the college. Don’t ask me why, it seems so stupid now, but I was terrified.”

“Worse than tonight?”

“I almost forgot, no tonight was worse. But I’m not feeling that now that we’re talking.”

“Excuse me we need to maneuver.” He steered the boat and fussed with the sails.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a very private cove I know of on one of the thousands of islands around here. There’s a reason this was a pirate haven, lots of places to hide. You’ll be fine, I think you know I’m not dangerous, that’s why you’re here.”

“I think I’m relieved” Alex joked.

“So what did you see?”

“I was in the parking lot and saw you and Stu kiss. That got me thinking that I could talk to you about being gay, how I could come out. I followed you back to campus, but by the time I parked my car and got over to Stu’s house, you guys were doing it.”

“Doing it?”

“I heard something from inside and looked through a gap in the curtains.”

“Oh god, you saw that? Stu needed reassurance, right away, and nothing reassured him like getting fucked. That’s right we did it on the couch.”

“Yes you did.”

“It was a glorious fuck” Cal reminisced.

“Well, it scared me. I ran away.”

“That’s what you told the FBI?”

“Yes, it confirmed that you and Mr. Marcus were more than roommates.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that needed confirmation, but okay.”

“The FBI found out about Thibaud.”

“What did they find out?”

“That you took him on weekends to some resort in Vermont and that you guys had sex.”

“Anything else?”

“Not that they reported, so I guess not.”

“That’s good.”

“Why did you go to Vermont, Cal? I figure Thibaud is a great fuck, but that’s not why you went, is it?”

“Why not?”

“I saw you with Stu, how he looked, how you behaved with him and I don’t mean when you were on the couch. I mean all over campus, like on the bench.”

Cal looked up when Alex mentioned the bench.

“What about the bench?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I know you met Stu there almost every day for some afternoon affection. It was sweet. It made the whole college feel good. Was it something else, too?”

“Yes there was something else. You really are on track with this. I left notes for someone at the bench.”

“Who, Cal? I know it wasn’t Thibaud, he would have told me. Yes, I’ve talked with Thibaud, too. He’s on our side.”

“For Samir.”

“I thought you just said you never spoke until afterwards.”

“We didn’t speak, but I left him notes with information from his mother.”

“His mother? That doesn’t make any sense. She could just call him.”

“Samir wasn’t just a student, he was part of a political family.”

“There were reports of noise from an embassy and the State Department. Not unusual with an abduction of a foreign national. And why were you involved?”

“It’s more than that. Where to begin?”

They had arrived at Cal’s private cove and lowered the anchor. It seemed totally isolated, the only lights the stars, the only sounds from insects and animals on the nearby shore.

***

Cal told his story:

I fell in love with Samir’s brother, Rakesh, when I was in grad school. He was two years behind me, but it hit us both, bad. We had committed our lives to each other. I passed up some good teaching posts to stay near UCLA while he was finishing his graduate work. I took a job that turned out to be with some bastard that stole my work. At the time I was getting pushed out of my job, Rakesh was suddenly recalled to his own country. I say recalled, but I mean four thugs broke into our apartment in the middle of the night, tied me up and hauled him away. I’m a big guy, but these guys were huge. Unhappily these kinds of occurrences weren’t that rare in our neighborhood with drug wars and all. When my landlord heard me pounding on the floor, he came and set me free. I called the police, they made some ‘inquiries’ and that was the end of that.

I was frantic. I called everyone, anyone who I thought could help. Nothing. I tried contacting the embassy, they had no information for me. Then a few weeks later it hit the international press. Rakesh had leaped to his death from the walls of the royal palace. I thought I’d cry forever. My heart was ripped out. I couldn’t even attend his funeral.

Almost a year later I did receive a letter. It was from a woman in Vermont. She wrote to tell me that Rakesh’s mother sent her condolences to me. Rakesh had told her about our relationship and that he would not denounce me as his corrupter, even under torture. So they killed him. You see, in their culture, homosexuality is beyond a sin. And if the government, in the form of their king is tainted by it, they feared it would bring the government down. This could be exploited by a populist movement active in the country. Or suppressed by any means. It was possible to blame an outsider for a corrupting influence. If rejected, the political damage could be controlled.

I was out of work for some time, soon was out of money. I hopped from one job to another when Dr. Waldheim, the Provost, contacted me about a position at the college. I was flatfooted with surprise. I didn’t think anyone in academia knew I existed. By some means he had gotten my resume and was asking if I could come for an interview. I didn’t ask questions, I got my remaining suit cleaned, and headed east. The college seemed desperate to fill the position, lord knows I was desperate. The Provost actually seemed to like me. I know I liked him. The school was great. Getting back to teaching was great. And I met Stu. From the depths of hell, I had emerged into a new world of love and sunshine.

Then a shadow crept over it all. I got an invitation to visit the lady in Vermont. She advised me not to come alone, but to make a weekend of it. Hence Thibaud. I don’t mean to disparage Thibaud in the least. He’s a very attractive man and fine lover, but I’m afraid I used him as cover to meet the lady in Vermont.

She had been at school in England with Rakesh and Samir’s mother. They had maintained a relationship through letters. It was the one way Samir’s mother could send word to her sons without fear of interception by the government police. I guess a woman’s correspondence was seen as silly and unworthy of close scrutiny. However it worked, the lady in Vermont passed along Samir’s mother’s information and I passed it along to Samir in the notes I left in a crack in the bench.

The short version of the story is that Samir’s government had discovered or suspected that Samir was having a gay relationship. I don’t know how, but they did. Maybe they assumed since Rakesh had been with me that all students would be misled. Bullshit. Samir’s mother sent a warning that there was a plot to kidnap Samir, as they had done Rakesh. She feared for her son’s life. That’s why she contacted me. How she had known I was at the college is beyond me. That’s when I had a student put a note under Samir’s door, to tell him of the hiding place of the other notes.

At the next meeting in Vermont, I learned that my hiring at the college was part of the plot. I was being set up to be blamed for Samir’s disappearance. They would have their revenge on me for loving Rakesh. Bastards.

We knew it was coming, we didn’t know when. Samir decided to run away first. He feared that events would endanger me, so he left me a series of train tickets at the bench. It took me a while to figure out his idea, but I got it in time.

The first I knew that the time had come was when I came back from town and saw a strange car in front of Stu’s house. We had planned an evening at home. I went into town to buy some groceries and wine for us to enjoy while we watched an old movie. We also planned to make love. But as I rounded the corner I saw the car. I was immediately suspicious, so parked my bike and dropped the groceries in the woods nearby. I crept up near the house, trying to stay out of sight. I saw Stu, clearly upset, the Provost and four men I did not recognize. One of the men made a call on his cell phone. He was only a few feet away from where I hid in the woods, so I heard his side of the conversation. They clearly were suspecting me of something and that they were taking Stu to the hospital. I followed on my bike. At the hospital, I searched around until I found Stu alone in an examination room. I only had a moment to say good bye, but it came out as an apology. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. He called to me as I left, the last words of his I’ll ever hear.

I wasn’t sure what was happening next, only that I had to get away or Samir’s safety might be compromised. I rode my bike to the train station and ditched it nearby. I then did something I’ve never done before. I stole, stole a bicycle. I was concerned that it would show up in the search they were doing. I didn’t have time to wonder. I rode to a station south of our normal station. That’s what the tickets that Samir had given me told me to do. I then got a local train south to the nearest station where I could catch an Amtrak train north. I took the Amtrak train to Albany, then the next train south one stop. I met Samir and his boyfriend, Kenny, they waited for me at that stop. They had been there for two days, hiding in a rundown hotel and meeting every train to see when I would should up. They were about to give up when we met. We took another Amtrak train north to the last stop before the Canadian border. It was Samir’s plan that there would be too many reports of people matching our description to be believed. It appears that the local cops never caught on at all. We just wasted a couple of days riding the rails.

It turns out that Kenny’s uncle has a farm that spans the US/Canadian border. The uncle left a car for us at the station up north. We drove to the farm, parked the car in the barn, walked across the border, just a split rail fence, and got picked up by Kenny’s uncle. They fed us and gave us a place to rest. Samir and Kenny caught a bus to Toronto, I caught one to Montreal.

That train ride and day at Kenny’s uncle’s house was the only time I actually talked with Samir. I hope he and Kenny find what Rakesh and I found together. I don’t know their plans, specifically, but Samir thought it would be easy to blend into the Middle Eastern and Asian communities of Toronto and try to have a normal life with Kenny. Bless them.

Alex’s reply was muffled, his mouth was full.