Desperate Lovers by Adam Carpenter (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

anything but a kept man. But that was probably an apt description for Marc himself, and maybe even Paolo, so he let it slide. As he climbed the three steps of the wraparound porch, Edgar was speaking to the others in a hushed tone.

“… nobody really knows what. But dollars to donuts that stain in the living room is blood. And whatever happened, the whole Saunders family moved out afterward. I imagine the father is dead by now because he was old back then. His son, Troy, couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen by my research. Kid hasn’t been seen or heard from since.” He looked up. “Oh hey, Dane.”

“Details about your book?”

“No, dirt on the other side of the fence.” Marc tilted his head in the direction of Number Two Eldon Court.

“Converse.”

“Guy burns me up.”

“Yeah,” replied Edgar. “Almost literally last week.” Someone had thrown some kind of Molotov cocktail at Aaron and Paolo’s house, setting the front facade afire. Fortunately, they were able to contain the blaze until the fire department arrived to extinguish it.

“I’m not going to lose my home to that asshole.”

“Me neither.”

Dane squinted in the direction of Number Two. Though now apparently the home of one Parker St. John, it still looked as derelict outside as it had been inside for so many years. “We’ll think of something.

Sawyer and I are checking our contacts to see if anyone knows anything about St. John or Converse.” He knew it was a long shot but with luck, something might present itself. “Hey, don’t give up. Sawyer knows a lot of people.”

“What’s that?” Paolo noticed the photograph that Dane had brought.

“Found it in the attic. It was pushed so far back, I almost didn’t notice it when I was putting some stuff away for … you know.” The guys looked at him. Dane cleared his throat. “I’ve turned the upstairs into a film set.”

“Our online video auteur.”

“Third floor, ladies and gentlemen. Slings and sex toys. Please watch your step.”

“You’re a hoot, Edgar.” In spite of himself, Dane joined the guys in a good-natured laugh.

Marc took a sip of his coffee. “So, how is it going?

“Well, my business partner was right about one thing, it certainly seems recession-proof.” Dane wanted to change the subject, fascinating as it might have seemed to his friends. Fact was, the site was catching on, thanks to Dane’s marketing savvy. Subscriptions were coming in fast and furious. What they needed was more content. Mario could only do so much and needed Dane to try his hand at making a few clips as well. So far, Dane had connected with two straight guys and convinced them to make videos. The first he found at the same bar in which he had met Sawyer.

And the shoot was a total disaster. Today, he was going to try and edit it into something useable. He was so depressed that Sawyer convinced him that they should try and make a video of their own. For practice. That had gone surprisingly well. Too bad it couldn’t be used on the site. Dane had to protect Sawyer’s high-fashion faux-heterosexuality.

“Sawyer and I made a video as an experiment. We watched it this morning. It came out pretty good.”

Marc and Paolo exchanged smiles. “So we heard.”

“You might consider closing the window next time.”

Dane turned three different shades of red. “You heard us?”

Paolo’s eyes widened. “Portland heard you! What were you doing up there?”

Dane raised his hands in surrender. “Well, you can find out first hand if you want to. I have a straight boy coming over tomorrow night.

Anyone want to co-star?” An ocean breeze blew through the silence around them. “Come on, guys. Don’t you want to try your hand at porn?”

“No.”

“Uh-uh. Aaron would kill me.”

“I’d try my hand, but I think the rest of me might scare away your viewers…”

Dane shook his head in mock disgust. “Some friends you are.” In truth, he was hoping Paolo would agree to it. Or maybe Marc.

Dane had signed onto this venture as the marketing arm of Straight To Bed; he really didn’t want to be the body in front of the camera. But like the owner of any start-up operation, certain sacrifices had to be made.

Mario had done the same, but then again, he wasn’t in a committed relationship. Dane looked down the street where Sawyer had left minutes before. Then shivered. His lover’s absence felt almost palpable. “Well, your loss.”

“So you’ll be appearing in your own film?”

“How very Hitchcock!”

Paolo laughed as Dane scoffed at Edgar, “Or BitchCock, anyway.”

Marc held the old photograph close, taking in the details of the composition. “This is beautiful. Love the sepia patina. Gives me an idea for a painting.” He passed the picture to Edgar. “So do you have any idea who the two guys are?”

“No, not at all. Says, ‘G&G, Summer 1961’ on the back. Sawyer thinks it’s a family photo or a shot of two friends. But something tells me “It’s Green.” All eyes turned to Edgar. “I don’t know about the guy on the left but I’m pretty sure this one is Mr. Green. I saw him occasionally when we moved in. He was old then but kind of striking in his own way.” Edgar eyeballed the picture one last time. “Yeah, Gerald Green. He and his wife used to live in your house until about ten years ago or so.”

Dane reclaimed the photo and looked at the man on the right. A big man with a tangle of thick dark hair, Gerald Green stared proudly at the camera. Is that what the “G&G” stood for?

It was the end of designer Jimmy Bart’s show, and the crowd was responding well to his creations. In the front two rows along the runway, retail buyers made copious notes as each model strutted by. That was what it was all about. But still, something was wrong. The timing was off.

Goddamned grandstanding models. He had set his music track for twenty passes on the runway. Twenty passes, twenty outfits. He had two more to go, and then the finale, all before the music cut off.

“Shit!” he cursed. His last models were about