Worth Any Price

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  “Hi,” he said with a tiny smile. “You were sleeping so soundly, and I knew you needed it, so I didn’t have the heart to disturb you.”

  She ran her fingers through her long, tousled curls and looked over at him. The worry in her eyes was evident and alarming. “What time is it?”

  “Only seven. We have plenty of time. I have everything all set up. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Could I have another glass of water?” she asked

  “How about a glass of wine instead? You could use a little mellowing out before we begin, don’t you think?”

  “I rarely drink.”

  “Better yet,” he said as he moved away from the doorway.

  He walked over to a large, ornate piece of furniture. It looked like a Bombay chest of sorts, only much larger. He pulled a knob on the front, a shelf dropped down, and she saw a bar. Below, he opened a cabinet and she saw fully stocked wine racks.

  “A Shiraz I think, soothing and mellow and good for the heart,” he pronounced.

  She watched him expertly uncork the bottle and pour some of the deep, rich burgundy colored liquid into two etched wine glasses. They had a medieval flair to them, oversized heavy crystal goblets with long ornate stems. Then he walked over to where she sat and handed her one.

  Her fingers stroked the beveled glass and he smiled. “Another of my mother’s contributions. She has impeccable taste don’t you think? She would have loved living during the Baroque period.”

  “They’re very nice, quite beautiful.” Oh, to have only this on her mind, she thought. Admiring beautiful stemware, sipping vintage wine and being with a man she could talk to.

  He took a moment to study her while sipping his wine. Speaking of beautiful, she was that. She still had the flush of sleep about her, but her eyes were bright and alert. She had the most incredible green eyes, flecked with brown and fringed with sable lashes that the soft lighting turned to burnished gold. Her lips, plump in all the right places, were a pale peach, and the natural color of her skin was fresh and smooth, devoid of makeup. He could see that at one time she’d had some hair spray or mousse in her hair as it spiked and defied gravity in a few places. Lovely hair, thick and lustrous. A coppery brown in this light, it had held more honeyed tones earlier in the day.

  He wished he knew more about her. He wished he’d asked her out when he’d first noticed her, and he wished they didn’t have to do this.

  “Tell me about Joshua. How severe is his autism?”

  She blinked and focused on her wine glass. He saw her eyes cloud over momentarily, then brighten with love. “He’s so sweet. A wonderful little boy. Full of energy at times and then quiet at others. He doesn’t talk as much as kids his age, but he has a great vocabulary. He’s learning to read a little and he loves every kind of furry animal, especially raccoons for some reason.” She smiled at the memory of him sleeping in his own bed with Cuddles, his raccoon, tucked up under his chin.

  “He’s good with numbers, and showing some signs of being creative, but he’s not very good with people yet. Kids his age take a lot longer to warm up to him than they should because he gives out the wrong signals at first. He went through a biting spell at his last daycare. But we nipped that in the bud,” she said and then chuckled at her pun. “He’s responding wonderfully to chelation therapy and since we caught it early, his doctor thinks he could be very close to normal in just a few years.”

  “Chelation therapy?”

  “It’s when metals are removed from the diet. Joshua’s blood, urine, and hair tests show he has toxic levels of mercury, arsenic, and aluminum. But he’s deficient in zinc, calcium, and vitamin C. He won’t get his pills now!” she sobbed.

  He reached over and gripped her forearm. “Was he close to his father?”

  “He only saw his father three times. And those times, I’m afraid, were too full of family and friends for them to get close. And he was too young. I guess now, it’s probably better off that way. But he does seem to like men better than women. Women tend to be bossy with him, men seem to take him more in stride.”

  “So how do you think he’s fairing right now?”

  “I don’t know. He scares easily and I’m sure he has no idea what’s going on.”

  “Does he have any other health problems?”

  “No. Sometimes he sleepwalks, but I’ve read that this . . . this Voyeur keeps his hostages bound.” She whimpered and he moved the glass closer to her lips.

  “Drink. We’re not going to start until I can get you at least a little bit snookered.”

  “In case I’m in no condition to remember later, thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome. It’s my job though, to help people in need.”

  “Why did he let this happen?”

  “Who, God?”

  “Yes. Things were hard enough on us as it was.”

  “This is the devil’s hand, Paige, not God’s. God is with you now, He bears your pain and suffering. We don’t know how this will end, but you have to know that He loves you, and that for all eternity, you and Joshua are His. He is fighting for you, just as you will fight to get Joshua back. He is a father Himself and He knows how much you are hurting right now. And so do I. Somehow He’s brought us together to handle this and we can’t let Him or Joshua down.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.”

  “It’s just flesh you know. A part of you that won’t follow you into eternity. Your spirit will remain, but you’ll get a whole new body, a perfect body that there’s no shame in. There will be no reason for anyone to covet it or to abuse it.”

  “Or to want to leer at it,” she said with contempt.

  “I know that this will be very hard for you to accept. And even in years to come, it will always haunt you. But the guilt of doing nothing and letting Joshua die would be far worse for you to live with. This, you can overcome.”

  “You say that. But it’s not you.”

  “It will be tomorrow at sunrise.”

  Her face burned crimson. She had forgotten all about that.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Seems we all have a role to play. I can only hope none of my parishioners go on line to check the weather on the beach.”

  “Oh, Jesus!” she said as her hands covered her face. “Is that what could happen? Could we really be on the air? On TV?”

  He reached over and, using gentle fingers, removed one of the hands that covered her face. Then he bent to look at her. “Probably not. They have a delay on those things and I would imagine that somebody’s monitoring it all the time.”

  “Do you think that could be him?”

  “It could be.”

  “Are we making a mistake by not involving the police?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “We have his e-mail address. They could probably find him with that.”

  “He knows that. He’s probably planned for that contingency.”

  “I guess you’re right. I’m not going to get out of this am I?”

  “No,” he said as he pushed a lock of hair from her face. “As hard as this is going to be, it’ll be a lot easier than saying good-bye to your son for the rest of your life. This man has already killed a few children.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll get you a robe so you can undress, then I’ll show you how to use the camera and how to check each shot to make sure you’ve complied with this bastard’s sick demands before going on to the next one.”

  “Thanks.”

  He left her for a minute, admonishing her to finish her wine before disappearing into the master bedroom and coming back with a soft plaid robe. She took it and brought it to her chest, then looked up into his face.
She was like a little angel, getting ready to fall from grace, and it sickened him to watch what she was going through.

  “You know, I was thinking. We could disguise your face a little, maybe even enough to make you unrecognizable to the average person who might somehow end up looking at these.”

  She cringed and shuddered. “You think people other than him will see these?”

  “I’d count on it if I were you, and you know for a fact that one of these pictures has to be put under the windshields at church, so that one will be seen by many people. We definitely should make some attempt to disguise you.”

  “They have to have my name on them, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot all about that.”

  She gave a big sigh. “I’ll just go put this on.” Now she was the one resigned to her fate.

  When she came back a few minutes later, he noticed her fair skin had paled even further. He wished there was some way he could spare her this aguish.

  “C’mere. Let’s try something.” He walked her into the master bathroom. While she watched, he opened drawers and cabinets and took out some eye pencils, shadows, and cans of hair-coloring mousse. It was quite a collection of makeup and hair dyes.

  “Why do you have all this?” she asked, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that, it’s none of my business.”

  “No, no. I would have been surprised if you hadn’t. I suppose I could say they’re my sister’s, but I don’t have one. So I guess I’d better not compound my sins with a lie.” He turned and looked her in the face.

  “I had an affair a few years back. I’m not proud of it, it wasn’t something I’d ever done before. But hey, I’m human. I was tempted and I didn’t fight it. It ended badly. She had lied about not being married. I could’ve lost my job, she could have lost her husband. We both lost each other because there was no trust. I thought it was love at first, but it turned out it was lust. I was actually relieved when she went back to her husband.”

  “She lived here?”

  “For two months we set up housekeeping. When her husband found her here it was ugly. We beat each other up and afterward we sat down and had a few beers together. She grabbed her things and cut out while we were knocking the stuffing out of each other. He said he didn’t want her anymore. I knew he was lying. I told him I didn’t want her either and he smiled. For his silence, I agreed never to see her again. We shook hands and that was that. I never got rid of her stuff, though. Don’t know why. Just never took the time, I guess.”

  “You didn’t need to tell me all that.”

  “Yeah, I did. I’ve needed to tell someone for a long time. Forgive me?”

  “It’s not up to me.”

  “I know. God forgave me a long time ago, but I wanted to hear you say it doesn’t matter to you.”

  “It was a long time ago, Pastor. It doesn’t matter to me. Why would it?”

  “Call me Cayce. And I guess it shouldn’t matter to anyone. I wasn’t being unfaithful, just foolish. It was a long time ago. Here sit on this stool, let me take a look at your face and see what tricks we can use to make you look less like yourself.”

  He looked at her straight on and then turned her head from side to side, studying the fine-chiseled angles and the soft, high-plains of her cheeks.

  “I’ve heard that changing the shape of the eyebrows can alter the whole effect of a face,” she offered. He picked up an eye pencil and handed it to her.

  “Okay, let’s try that.”

  She looked down at the pencil, then exchanged it for a darker one on the counter. “If we’re going to alter, might as well change the color, too,” she said as she started penciling in her brows, making them longer and more exotic.

  He appraised her work and nodded. “Good, try this.”

  He handed her a kohl eyeliner pencil and then smudge pots of eye shadows.

  Fifteen minutes later, when they were done, she was a dark brunette, with vivid coloring, pretty in a different, but harder way. Not at all like herself, so strangers wouldn’t be clued in to who she was, but still close enough for the Voyeur to know that it was her.

  Cayce was clearing the counter and putting away the cosmetics when she heard him clear his throat and say, “I found some body makeup in this basket. Do you have any, uh . . . birthmarks on your body that someone . . . how can I say this gently? That someone who’s familiar with your charms might identify you by?”

  She smiled at him, grabbed the tube from his hand, and put it back in the basket. “No, the only birthmark I have is a strawberry mark behind my right ear. As for the other, the only man familiar with my ‘charms’ is no longer able

  to care.”

  He nodded then whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem, I know you’re only trying to protect me.”

  Cayce took her hand and led her into his study. He showed her how to set the timer on the camera, which was now mounted on a tripod. He also showed her how to review the shots to make sure they were framed properly and to check if they showed her exactly as instructed. “I’ll come back in and we’ll get each shot set up. Then I’ll leave the room. You disrobe, set the timer, get back in position and pose for the shot. After the picture’s taken, you’ll switch this dial to view, check the shot, then put it back to the original position so I won’t see it when I come back in to set up again. Then put the robe back on, call me, and we’ll see to the next one. Got it?”

  “I appreciate you going to all this trouble. I originally thought you were going to be taking the pictures.”

  “I thought this way would be better for you.” Certainly better for me, he thought. I don’t think I would have been any help if I had to be in the same room with you while you were naked.

  “Okay, let’s set up the first shot,” he said. He took out the note, read the pertinent part, refolded it, and jammed it into his pants’ pocket. “Go stand where I put the tape on the carpet.”

  She turned and walked a few yards, then placed her toes on the tape. He noticed that she had nice feet before stepping behind the camera. He bent and looked through the viewfinder. “Raise your arms.” She raised her arms. The robe gaped open and he just about fell to the floor. Instantly, she clutched at it and held it closed. He blinked hard, shook his head, and bent to look through the lens again. Then he stood, looked at her, and walked over and repositioned her. “I think this is what he means,” he said, mentally envisioning her without the robe. Whoa! He had to stop that. Especially now that he’d had a pretty clear image of an ample part of her breasts. He walked back to the camera, bent again, and rechecked the shot.

  “Okay. I’ll go into the living room now. Call me when you’re done.”

  He gave her a last look, then spun on his heel and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

  On the other side of the door, he could her moving around for a minute then silence. Then a sob of anguish, then a loud “Shit! I can’t do this!”

  He waited a few seconds, wondering if he should knock and then go back in. Instead he was surprised and had to jump back when she opened the door right in front of where he’d been pacing.

  “Uh, how’d it go?” he mumbled.

  “Swimmingly,” she retorted, “just swimmingly. Why couldn’t the man just ask for money!” she screamed.

  “Would that have been better? Do you have lots of money?”

  “No! But at least I could have called his grandparents and asked for their help! How the hell can they help with this?” She waved her hand down the front of the robe and he noted that the belt wasn’t secured very tightly. He could see her cleavage and the swell of her breasts where it parted.

  Tears were streaming down her face, and he wished he could pull her into his arms a
nd comfort her, but knowing she was naked under his robe, he didn’t trust himself. She was experiencing anguish, while he was experiencing anguish of a whole other sort. She was doing something to him. Her innocence was warming his heart and other places, too. He could not believe that in the midst of her vile degradation and utter humiliation that he was lusting for her. That when the robe parted and fell to the floor he wanted to be inside of her.

  He reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her wet cheeks. “Just a few more, honey. Just a few more.” He walked her back into the room and back to the tapeline.

  “This one won’t be too bad.” He positioned her with her back to the camera then watched as she piled her hair on top of her head and secured it with a clip. The robe fell off her shoulders and he saw her creamy, smooth shoulders. She had the kind of body that accentuated the sleek, sexy curve of her back. And for a moment, he actually tried to stare through the robe, wondering if she had those cute dimples above her ass that men loved to search out with their fingertips.

  He walked over to her and ran his finger up the back of her neck until it rested on the small strawberry mark he found by her ear. She trembled at his sudden touch and he had the most profound desire to lick her there, then nip her ear lobe. But he checked himself. She sure didn’t need him coming on to her on top of everything else. To cover his faux pas, he murmured, “This the birthmark you mentioned earlier?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her voice was more of a sigh than anything else.

  His hands fell to her waist, securing her in position, then he pulled her arm around and propped it on her hip. “Hold it like this, with your fingers splayed,” he said. Then with his other hand he tilted her head and turned it so she was looking over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met and held, and he swore. After staring into the depths of her wide green eyes, he knelt behind her and eased her bare feet into the high heels they’d bought at the thrift shop on the way to his house.