Susan Carter - The hidden camera

Nancy put a protective hand on her own fevered forehead and nodded. "God, I've never felt so awful in all my life. Rita…" she looked up at her old school friend. "I… I don't remember everything. I… I guess I got kind of out of bind."

Rita brushed her tears away and smiled bravely. "You were just… carried away, that's all."

"I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be."

"Rita," she gripped her friends hand. "Promise me one thing. Promise me you'll never tell Allan. Above all, he mustn't know."

Rita looked away, starting to cry again.

Nancy propped herself up on one elbow, holding the sheet up in front of herself to cover her nudity. "Rita, what's the matter? What did I do? Did I say something awful or did I do something terrible?" She looked around suspiciously. "Say, how did I get here?"

Rita controlled herself. "You passed out, and Tom and I brought you home. You didn't do or say anything. In fact, the owners of the bar were a little worried when you passed out. They were worried about a lawsuit, so they helped us get you dressed, and Tom and I brought you home. I undressed you and got you to bed."

Nancy sank back on the pillow again. "Thank God."

"It's not what you think."

"Huh?"

"It's not what you think," Rita went on in a hard voice. "My life. Tom's. He was a different person when I first met him. Now… it's all different. It's not what you think."

Nancy was feeling too awful to fully comprehend what Rita was trying to tell her. "What do you mean?"

Rita was obviously upset and barely controlling herself. "Tom and me… it's not what it looks like. Tom is drinking too much and… he's different."

"Rita, what are you getting at."

Rita seemed grateful for the chance to talk. For the first time Nancy noticed how hollowed her eyes were and how her hands shook. "Tom found some weaknesses in me. He saw it. We make so much money, but we're always in debt. Tom says you have to spend money in order to make money. He drinks too much… and… well… some of the parties get a little… raw."

Nancy nodded. "Like last night."

Rita shrugged. "Last night was really pretty tame compared to some… parties."

Both girls were silent, looking questioningly at one another. Rita's hands were clenched together in her lap. "You see… Tom knows… well, he knows I like to do certain things. And… well, each client is more important than the last. Tom puts out money to make connections and the clients are getting bigger and bigger and… they want more."

Again, they were silent, looking at one another. Rita tried to manage a smile. "Tom uses me. Uses my body. He's going to use yours."

Nancy sat up in bed, her hangover forgotten. "Rita, do you know what you're saying?"

Tears welling again, Rita could only nod. "I need a drink," she managed to choke. She staggered up from the bed and across the room. At the door she bumped into Tom. He laughed and stepped aside, somewhat unsteady on his feet.

Rita ran from sight, and Nancy checked her covering and sank back into bed. Tom stood by the door with an inevitable drink in his hand, his face red and beefy, a drunken smile on his face. "Knock, knock," he said.

"What's the matter with Rita?" Nancy asked, her voice calm and cool.

Tom sauntered into the room, casually waving a hand, "You know how women are. Probably hung over. Say, speaking of little old hangovers, how's our little old star, huh?" He came to the edge of the bed and grinned down at her.

"Tom, I'm ashamed of what I did."

Drunkenly, he waved a hand. "Don't be. Was great, jus' great." He drank, winking at her and pointing at the glass. "Little old hair-of-the-dog. Have one?"

Nancy groaned and felt her stomach churn. "Tom, would you leave for a moment? I want to get dressed."

"Why?" he leered. "I've seen you. Oh, almost forgot. Got something for you." He casually reached into his jacket pocket and brought out an envelope. He tossed it on the bed. "Little something for you."

Curious, Nancy picked the envelope up and opened it. It was heavy with glossy pictures… snapshots of her. She gasped. There she was, stark naked and being pawed by strange men with tattoos on their arms and leers on their faces! Her own expression was one of drunken abandon and wild ungovernable excitement. She looked up, nostrils flaring, at a grinning Tom. "Any of those you want blown up, just let me know."

"You… you…" words failed her as her face reddened in shame and anger. "You… scum!"

He frowned then grinned again. "That's a little harsh, I'd say."

"You took these?"

"Thought maybe you'd like a little memory of a wild night. Something to look at on a long winter night. Something for you and Allan to enjoy."

Nancy stared up at his red, grinning face. She was too stunned and angry to say anything. She looked at the pictures once again. There were no negatives in the envelope. She looked up at him with real hatred and fear coming over her. Quietly, she asked, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Well, for one thing, I want another drink. Nice Scotch Allan keeps."

"Don't be funny. How much?"

Tom shrugged and looked innocent. "I don't know what you mean."

One lacquered fingernail tapped the envelope. "How much do you want for the pictures and negatives? You're blackmailing me, aren't you?"

Tom looked incredulous. "Me? Blackmail? Oh, baby, have you got the wrong idea. Listen… I just took those because I thought you'd like having them. Honest! Hell, it was just a joke."

Nancy looked at him dubiously. "Honest? I can have the negatives?"

"Hell, yes! I don't have them with me. Listen, I want us all to be friends! Blackmail? Believe me, that's the farthest thing from my mind. Hell, all we have to do is go on being friends. Hell, I don't want you doing anything that you don't really enjoy."

Nancy frowned, a cold bar of fear forming in the pit of her stomach. "What?"

Tom waved a beefy hand and was very casual. "I'm whipping up something for a client. Be nice if you were there, you know, just to… well, entertain a little."

"Entertain?"

"Yeah, you know. Fool around. Like last night. I wouldn't ask you to do anything that you wouldn't want to do."

"Tom, are you serious?" She sat up in bed, holding a sheet around her big pointed breasts.

Tom's expression changed completely. He went from a benign chuckling state, to a nasty seriousness. "You'll see just how serious I am if you don't show up when and where I tell you!"

"T… Tom, you're… insane!"

"Am I?" His boozy bloodshot eyes stared down at her. "We'll see. Listen, I don't want money from you. All I want you to do is what you're dying to do and haven't got enough guts."

"W… what?"

"Don't try to snow me. I know what you're like under all that good breeding and debutante crap. Listen, I saw you during that movie." His beefy face was thrust in front of hers and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. With a sudden snarl and a swiftness and strength that surprised her, he snatched at the sheets and pulled them down. Involuntarily, Nancy huddled defensively, putting her legs together and putting her hands over her breasts and pubic hair. Tom smirked down at her naked cowering. "See… I know what you're like. I watched you watching that Scorpio film. Well, I'm going to tell you something." His voice dropped low. "I'm going to stage a thing just like that. I'm going to set it up, and guess who's going to star? You!"

Nancy was speechless with horror as she tried to hide her defenselessly naked body from his contemptuous gaze.

He laughed harshly. "Okay, blackmail. If you want those pictures back, you'll do it. You'll do as I say and when I say it. If not… copies go to your husband, old Allan the stuff shirt, and copies go to the Board of Allan's bank. In fact, I'll sell those pies anywhere I can. That's it."