them and drift off, one hand on the place where my child grows, the other on the man who helped to make it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“I’ve set up some software that lets you log in to our computer,” Leo says. “You’ll be able to watch what we’re doing as though you were the user. That’s how you can follow along with the chats and so on. I’ve also got a webcam on so we can talk over the microphone.”
Leo and Alan have taken their places in “Robert Long’s” apartment. Marjorie is ensconced in the house as Cynthia.
“Cynthia’s not working yet,” Callie had briefed us. “Since we needed the cover-up and running so quickly, I decided that we would go a similar direction with the ex-Mrs. Long as we did with Robert. She’s trying to decide what to do with her life. In the meantime, she’ll go to the gym, get her hair done, read, all those activities the well-kept woman engages in.”
I peer at the image on my own computer. “It’s like being right there,” I say, impressed.
“This technology has come a long way,” Leo agrees. “You should be able to read everything as we type it. I’ll be keeping logs as well, so you can catch up on anything you miss, as needed.”
“Have you registered with the website yet?” I ask.
Alan’s voice comes through the microphone. It’s odd to be having conversations while staring at a monitor. “Yep: Hurting2105. Hurting 1 through 2104 were taken.”
“That’s a lot of pain.”
“Or whining,” Alan says. “Anyway, we’re ready to get started.”
“Go ahead.”
Law-enforcement undercover work is not that exciting, unless you’re a narcotics officer. Most of it is not about the moment of the criminal act but the day-to-day living that surrounds your cover identity. You have to eat, and sleep, and make bank deposits, and pay bills. You have to see movies and decide between popcorn and licorice. You have to buy toilet paper. All of it done under the assumption that every move you make is being watched. You play your part and hope that the moment of action comes.
I watch as Leo surfs to the beamanagain website.
“Should I log in to chat?” he asks.
“Take it slow,” Alan counsels. “Let’s see what’s happening on the forums first. What’s the hot topic of the day?”
Leo navigates to the General Discussion section of the forums. “This is a new one,” he says.
I lean forward, squinting a little to read what he’s talking about.
“You’ll need to use the software connection if you want to follow the chat,” Leo says. “But you should just read the forums yourself, in your own browser, since everyone reads at different speeds.”
“Good point,” I allow.
I open the other browser window and get myself onto the website. I navigate to the forum. The top posting Leo had pointed out is entitled
“That sounds interesting,” I murmur.
I click on the topic and begin to read.
A recent study found that when men and women feel the housework is divided evenly, the couple’s sex life is better. The study noted that it wasn’t important that the housework was factually divided evenly. Only that the parties involved felt that it was. Discuss.
The next posting:
PUH-leeeze. Who did that study? A woman, right?
LOL.
The next, from the poster who started the thread:
Heh. Yeah, I thought the same, but it turns out the study was done by a man.
The responses continue.
Well, hell, I’ll vacuum if it will get my knob polished. Small price to pay.
Another poster jokes:
Fine, but I don’t do windows unless my salad gets tossed.
Ick. That’s gay. You want your turdhole polished, go find a fag forum.
Up yours!
The original poster steps in again, attempting to mediate.
Guys. We fight enough with women. Let’s not use this site to fight with each other. Back on topic, please.
I read through the back-and-forth of the thread. Much of it is harmless banter, some of it is more thoughtful. There is only the occasional venomous remark.
The cunt I live with wouldn’t fuck me if I hired a live-in maid.
Or perhaps the most disturbing:
All I know is she won’t have sex with me and hasn’t for four years. I’ve tried everything. I finally had enough of her shit. The other day I jacked off into her shampoo bottle. Then I went and got her a hamburger and added some “extra mayo” of my own. I almost laughed when I asked her how it was and she said, “It’s delicious!” She’s gonna swallow my cum and have it running down her face whether she likes it or not.
“I’m going to post a response,” Leo says. “Something I read yesterday would be appropriate here, and it would start to fill out my profile and give me some credibility with other members of the site.”
“Go ahead,” Alan says, “but let me read it before you post it.”
I peruse other threads as he types. A few minutes pass.
“I’m done.”
“Let me see,” Alan says. I wait as he reads it. “That’s pretty good, Leo. Where’d you get that?”
“I picked up some books. I also ordered a few from the site’s online bookstore, in case the perpetrator has a way of watching that.”
“Good thinking,” I chime in.
“Go ahead and post it.”
A pause. “Done,” Leo says. “Smoky, if you refresh the last page of the thread, my posting should be visible now.”
I hit refresh and watch as the page loads. I scroll down to the bottom and see a posting by Hurting2105.
I read a book recently that discussed the differences between men and women and their desire for sex. It said that, by and large, it’s true: Men want sex more often than women do. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s nothing new. But there was one thing the author said, an observation that I thought was really insightful. He said: Men tend to want sex when they are under stress, while women tend to lose interest in sex when they are under stress.
I think that’s true and might explain a little bit of what that study found.
Anyway, is that God’s idea of a joke or what?
“Very good, Leo,” I say.
“Thanks.”
“I have to agree with the writer of that book,” Alan says. “That is pretty insightful.”
“Speaking from personal experience, Alan?” I tease.
“No comment.”
I refresh the page. “Hey, you got a reply.”
It says:
Good contribution, newbie. I read the same book, and I agree, it’s an excellent observation.
“How can he tell you’re a new guy?” Alan asks.
“Check out the line under my handle. See?”
I look for and find what he’s talking about.
