JC
felt the hand on his hair and slowly woke up. He smiled as he turned into the
touch, feeling the fingers run through his long curls, rubbing sensually against
his scalp. He rolled towards Justin’s side of the bed, aching to get closer to
the source of that touch when suddenly the fingers in his hair pulled roughly,
grabbing JC’s hair and holding him back. He opened his eyes, but found only
blackness as something was held over them. JC struggled against the bonds
holding him, finally breaking free and bolting up in bed.
He was alone. Justin’s side of the bed was empty, his pillow untouched. JC
rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He touched his scalp and winced
at the slight pain. Someone had pulled his hair. He looked at the windows,
noting it was still dark outside. A glance at the clock confirmed that. 3:12. JC
rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He turned and looked again
at the empty bed, then turned suddenly as something brushed behind him. Nothing.
A chill ran down his spine at the sensation, though, and wanted more than
anything to find Justin.
JC walked down the stairs and turned toward the only lighted room, the living
room. Justin was sitting on the floor, the contents of the manila envelope
spread around him. JC smiled, thinking he looked so much like a high school kid,
trying to finish an assignment that was due tomorrow. He thought about that
envelope, and the argument they’d had earlier…
Justin
simply glared when JC laughed. JC knew the younger man hated to be laughed at,
so he tried to contain his amusement. “Reincarnation?” he asked, biting his
lip.
“Something like that,” Justin said, running a hand over his hair.
“Something…I don’t know.” He reached out and grabbed the envelope,
pulling out a photo. “Look at this.” He handed it to JC. “I found this
here, in this house, last night.”
JC looked at the photograph, his brow crinkling. “I don’t remember a photo
shoot by a train,” he said.
“That’s because we never did a photo shoot like that.” He reached out and
flipped it over so JC could read the back. “See?”
JC read the inscription, frowning. “Where did you find it?”
“In the bathroom, wedged between the wall and the sink.”
JC handed it back. “It’s a joke, Justin,” he said, handing the photo back.
“Probably Chris trying to fuck with us.”
Justin shook his head. “No, I found other stuff,” he said, indicating the
envelope. “And there’s something weird about this house.”
JC blinked. “What’s wrong with my house?”
“Nothing is wrong with your house,” Justin began, only to be stopped by JC.
“So we’re back to that again?” JC argued. “The same old fight about me
having a house here?”
“NO!” Justin proclaimed. “It has nothing to do with you having a house. It
has to do with having THIS house!” Justin paced. There’s something weird
here…I’ve felt it. I’ve felt things brush by me.” Justin stopped in
front of JC. “And I’ve thought things that don’t make any sense!”
“Like what?”
“Like thinking Chris is going to take you away from me,” Justin said.
“Chris?” JC laughed again “Oh, come on! I know you’ve never been in
favor of me having a house out here, but to use Chris as an excuse is just
ridiculous!” JC said ignoring the comment about this particular house.
“Dammit, Justin, stop being so insecure!”
“I’m not being insecure,” Justin said, eyes narrowing. “But as long as
the subject has been brought up, I still don’t see the need for you to have
your own house out here.”
“That’s because you’ve never tried to see the reason!” JC shouted. “It
makes sense to have a house here.” JC lowered his voice, walking to Justin and
laying a hand on the younger man’s arm. “I’m sick of hotels. I want to
make a home.”
Justin threw off JC’s hand. “A home…two thousand miles away from me!”
“No, a home. Period.” JC stepped back, his anger building. “You know how
important this is to me. You know how hard is was for me to even consider buying
a house on my own…why are you doing this?”
“JC, I’m sorry.” Justin approached him slowly, but JC held a hand to stop
him.
“We’re not having this argument again.” He turned around and left the room,
leaving Justin in the living room…
So
now, JC watched Justin as he studied the bits of paper in front of him, and
wondered. He touched his scalp again, thinking of what had just happened. And he
also remembers a few things that he’d found odd, too. Like thinking he’d
find curls every time he touched Justin’s hair. Justin’s piano playing this
afternoon. And his uncontrollable desire to fuck Justin afterwards, something he
very rarely did.
So maybe he needed to see this stuff Justin had found after all.
JC walked over to Justin and sat down behind him. He knew Justin knew he was
there. He reached out and pulled the younger man against him, Justin’s back
flush with JC’s chest. JC reached his arms around and held the boy close.
“I’m sorry,” JC whispered.
Justin closed his eyes, relief swimming through him. “I’m sorry, too.” He
turned his head, grazing his lips against JC’s. The kiss was soft and sweet
and full of love. They broke apart, smiling to each other, knowing all was right
again in their world.
JC looked at the papers before Justin. “Tell me about all of this,” he asked,
eyes narrowing.
Justin blinked. “What happened?”
“God, you know me too well,” JC said, shaking his head. “Something pulled
my hair while I was asleep,” he explained, smiling as a bit of anger entered
Justin’s eyes. “I’m fine, Just.” JC intercepted the hand reaching up,
kissing Justin’s palm. “Tell me.”
Justin nodded, reaching for the LA Times he and Britney had found.
“This is what we found first,” he said, handing the article to JC. He
watched as JC read the article, then continued. “Then we found more stuff
after my, I mean, this Justin’s disappearance.”
“Who are we?”
“Me and Brit.” JC rolled his eyes. “Well, I needed help, and she was
available.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because I wanted more proof before I said anything,” Justin explained. “I
mean, this is some weird shit going on…I didn’t want you to think I was
going off the deep end or anything.”
“Hmmm, I’ll reserve judgment on that,” JC said, picking up the next item.
It was another newspaper article. It described the ongoing investigation in the
disappearance of Justin Turner, and the growing suspicion that Josh Chambers was
somehow involved. The article was accompanied by another picture, this time of
just Josh Chambers coming out of the LA Police Department building.
“Then there’s this one,” Justin said, handing JC an article about Josh
Chambers’ arraignment. The police, it seems, had gathered enough evidence to
charge Chambers with Justin Turner’s murder, even though there was no body
ever found.
“And here’s the last.” It was dated November 1928. Two months after Justin
Turner’s disappearance.
MURDER SUSPECT FLEES JUSTICE
Police confirmed today that Joshua Chambers, owner of the club Little Chicago
and suspect in the murder of songwriter Justin Turner, has disappeared. Chambers
was arraigned last week on charges of murdering Turner, but was released after
posting $100,000 bond. Chambers was scheduled to appear in court again today,
but after failing to do so, police went to his house, located in the Hollywood
Hills. Chambers was not there, but police did say they found what appears to be
blood on the walls and carpet. An earlier inspection of Chambers’ house
yielded noting incriminating, except the fact that he and Turner did, in fact,
live there together. Police will not comment on that aspect of the case.
An all-points-bulletin has been issued for the capture of Chambers.
“Wow,” JC said. His finger traced the picture of his house in the old
photograph. “I guess they did live here…this Justin and Josh.”
Justin nodded. “And that’s where it ends,” he said, indicating the records.
“Nothing was ever found after that. No bodies, nothing.”
JC sighed. “So…what do we do now?”
“I think we start at the beginning,” Justin explained, pointing to the
picture of the men by the train. “I think we need to go to Chicago and find
out who they were, and why they came here.”
“Justin, that was over seventy years ago!” JC protested. “What do you
think we can find?”
He shrugged. “Not sure…but it’s something to go on.” Justin scanned the
photos and papers again. “It’s just too much to leave along, don’t you
think?” Justin turned when JC didn’t answer. He watched as the older man
picked one of the articles again. “Josh? What is it?”
JC handed the paper to Justin. “Look…behind the crowd on the left.”
Justin peered intently at the photograph, his breath catching as he saw a
familiar face. “Jesus,” he breathed. “What the fuck is Chris doing in this
picture?”