Chapter 6
When George and Ma came into the house much later, Jane was still tied to the couch, but she was wide awake. Sleep was impossible. She doubted that she would ever sleep again.
"Will somebody get me off this stinking couch?" Jane's near hysterical voice greeted them. The terror in her voice impressed them both. They hurried toward her.
"Jeez," George snorted, "I see what you mean about stinkin'."
"Fer chrissake," Ma joined the protest, "wouldn't she even let you get up to go do that?"
"I didn't do it." Jane's tone was a mixture of despair and indignation.
"Well if you didn't," George replied in confusion, "who the hell...."
"Grade did, Gracie did." Don's voice came excitedly from the bedroom doorway. "Boy, you shoulda saw 'er. She did it all over 'er then she let me do it the special way."
George turned pale with rage, but before he could move, Ma was plunging into the bedroom. When she returned to the kitchen, she was dragging a sleepy, frightened, naked Grace behind her. George was busily untying the ropes which bound Jane to the couch.
Ma rocked Grace's head from side to side with a series of full armed slaps. Grace fell to the floor and huddled there with her arms wrapped around her head in an attempt at protection from the enraged assault.
"George," the woman snapped, "throw that mattress outside for a while to air out." Holding it at arm's length, he walked to the door and threw it out.
"Come here with me," the old woman's voice was almost gentle as she led the sobbing Jane to her room. She sat on the bed and drew the girl down beside her. "Now tell me everything that happened," she coaxed gently.
Jane ignored the shameful defilement of her person as she concentrated on the statements Grace had made about her murder. Her body shook with her sobs, many of her words were unintelligible as she attempted to pour out the story, hoping to hear it denied in a manner that would be believable.
Ma offered her own brand of solace and comfort, but the hoped for denial was not forthcoming.
"Ma," Jane asked in a plaintive voice, "are you really going to kill me?"
"You just hush now child. You had a real hard day. We won't talk about nothin' like that right now."
"But can't you understand, Ma, I can't just hush. How can I be quiet when I believe you are going to kill me? My God, Ma, can't you understand? Grace said you are planning to kill me. She said you are going to let her do it."
"Now you hush that silly talk child, of course I ain't gonna let Grace do it."
Jane felt the blood drain from her face. The words were confirmation of her most frightening fears. "You won't let Grace do it?" She repeated. "Then that means you do intend to kill me. Someone else will do it. You or George, but one of you is going to kill me." Her body shuddered, she collapsed against the woman who wrapped her arms around her protectively.
"There, there now child," the old woman cooed like a mother crooning a lullaby to a crying child, "you just don't think about it now."
For a few minutes, Jane's body continued to shudder as she cried, after a while, she found her voice again and was able to speak.
"But Ma, just think of what you're saying. You're saying you are going to kill me, then you tell me to hush and not think about it. Can't you understand what you are saying? Can't you understand that I don't want to die? My God, Ma, I'm young, I'm rich, I have everything to live for. Please don't kill me. Please."
She subsided into tears and shudders again and felt the old woman rocking her against her ample breasts.
"Jane girl, when you first came here, you were just a snooty rich kid and I hated you. You wouldn't do nothin' for poor Don, you talked snippity, we was just goin' to keep you 'till we got the ransom dough from your old man, then we was goin' to kill you."
Jane listened in a state of stupor as the woman talked so casually of their plans to kill her.
"Then," Ma went on, "you turned out to be a real nice kid. We had some good fun together, but now I don't know what to do. We can't just let you go. As soon as you got out of here you'd run to the cops and we'd all rot in jail. We got problems too, Janie, we just can't take that kind of chance."
"But Ma, I don't want to die. I'm scared, Ma. I'm still young. I have my whole life ahead of me. Please don't kill me Ma, please. Dad will really pay the ransom, I'll make sure he does. I promise you he will."
With death staring her in the face as an incentive, Jane pleaded with a convincing sincerity. "Please let's talk about it Ma. I can show you how it would be better not to kill me."
"It wouldn't have been that bad, Jane. You wouldn't of known nothin' about it. One night when you were asleep, you just wouldn't of woke up again. You wouldn't of felt nothin'." The old woman spoke as if death would have been something simple and humane and almost pleasant.
"Look Ma," Jane pleaded earnestly, "when you kidnapped me, there were two things you wanted. You wanted money and a woman for Don. You can still have both of them. I promise you it can be worked out and I'll never talk to the police or try to hurt you in any way."
"Sure Jane, sure," the woman cooed as she would talk to a baby who asked for the moon, "you just don't think of it no more." Everything's goin' to be all right, don't you worry none."
As Jane tried to get through to the woman, they were disturbed by the slamming of the back door and sounds of screamed pleas coming from the back yard. Through the dirty window, they saw George leading a naked Grace toward the barn. It was obvious from his manner that Grace was in for nothing pleasant.
As they reached the barn, George pushed his wife inside so roughly that she lost her balance and sprawled to the dirty floor. She sat there sobbing as he closed and barred the big, double doors. Through her tear filled eyes, Grace saw the big, black limousine and wished fervently that she had never seen it, wished that it had never arrived at the farm. But she knew that it was too late for wishes now.
George walked to the side of an empty stall and picked up a length or rope. He walked back to the woman, tied her hands together, lifted her to her feet and walked a few feet dragging her unwillingly, protestingly, behind him. Looking up, he tossed the remainder of the rope over a beam and watched it fall to the floor on the other side. He moved easily now, without haste, without anger, his motions were those of a man with a job to do. It was just as easy as that. For Grace, it was not that easy. Her husband's carefully controlled anger told her that her terror was justified.
Picking up the lose end of the rope, George pulled it tight. Grace felt herself being dragged to her feet. Still the rope pulled at her arms. They were raised above her head, but the rope still dragged with a cruel upward motion as her husband pulled at the other end as if he were raising a bag of grain into the loft. For all the expression on his face, he could have been doing just that. When her feet had been raised just clear of the floor, he stopped tugging at the rope and tied it carefully around a protruding spike in the wooden post. Satisfied that it was tied tightly enough, he walked toward the back wall.
When he stretched to reach for the old buggy whip which hung on the back wall, she screamed a clear, sharp scream of terror. He understood her scream. In his childhood, one of the many fathers he had known had used the buggy whip on him. He remembered how the narrow leather bit into the skin, remembered how he had screamed, remembered how long the welts had lasted. It seemed exactly appropriate to the occasion.
Holding the hard leather handle in his hand, George walked back to where his naked wife hung suspended at the end of the taut rope. Her writhings had caused the rope to twist and untwist so that she turned helplessly at the end of it trying to touch the floor with her stretched toes to stop the wild merry-go-round, but unable to do so.
"Grace," he spoke evenly, "there ain't no excuse for what you done. Maybe that girl gotta die, but you didn't have to tell her. Right now, you're gonna pay for that. You ain't never gonna do nothin' like that again."
He brought his right arm back behind him, snapped it ahead with a flick of the wrist and the cruel, black leather snapped. It wrapped around her plump, naked body so that the end of the thong flicked around her buttocks. Her scream filled the barn. Patiently, he waited for the whip to uncoil. When it fell away, he brought it behind him again, snapped his wrist again and saw it curl once more around her nude, spinning body. Again, her scream rang out, but again it fell on deaf ears.
George didn't know whether it was the tenth stroke or the twentieth, he wasn't counting. He saw the cruel red welts on her thighs, buttocks, back, belly. Somehow, it seemed like enough, so he stopped swinging, walked to the back of the barn, replaced the whip and returned to the slowly spinning form of his wife.
With amazing deliberation, he untied the rope, lowered her so that she fell to the floor, tossed the rope back over the beam, untied her hands and walked lifelessly out of the barn. As he opened the door of the house, he could still hear her cries.
Instead of being moved by them, he thought of the beautiful young woman in the house who had been told she was going to die. He knew it wasn't right that she should be put to death, but he didn't know what he could do to stop it. He felt genuine regret that life must be snuffed out of that lovely body.
Only Don was in the kitchen. He still wore the nylon panties. George found it infuriating. "Get those damn things off or get the hell out of here," he barked.
Like a scolded puppy, Don scuttled back to his room. George wondered what Ma and Jane were doing. He hoped she hadn't killed her yet. As long as the girl was alive, there was still a chance of saving her somehow.
Jane was very much alive. She had been talking to the older woman for a long time, she had been trying to convince her that she was not trying trickery to save her life, trying to convince the woman that she was sincere in what she was offering.
"Please try to understand me Ma, I don't want to die, I'd give anything to be able to go on living. You've got to believe me. I can get you that fifty thousand, I can give Don everything he ever dreamed about and more. Ma, I'd be so grateful if you let me live and go back home that I'd never try to cheat on our bargain."
"You do sound convincing, Jane," the woman replied nervously, "but you can't blame me for not believing it. The minute we let you go, there's nothin' to stop you from callin' the cops and havin' us all arrested."
Jane was about to reply when she heard the door open and close, heard George talking roughly to Don. "Call him in here, Ma. Let him listen too."
The old woman called him. A minute later, he shuffled into the room. Jane went over the same ground she had covered with the old woman. George proved to be a more willing listener. She could tell he accepted her sincerity, she hoped he could convince his mother.
"My God, George," she emphasized, "just imagine Don looking at me in a full bridal outfit. I could take off the gown very slowly and leave the veil on. When I take off the slip, he'd see me in black bra and panties and nylons and the white veil still on. He could touch if he wanted to or just watch while I took them off very slowly, then he could go all the way. It would be the biggest thrill of his life."
"It sure sounds great to me, Jane," George replied, "but how do we know that once we turn you loose you won't just run to the cops?"
"But that's it, George, you don't turn me lose. Either you or Ma could be with me all the time. The rest of you could be outside in the car. If anything looks suspicious, you can take off and I would know that you were looking for me to kill me for breaking my part of the deal. It just can't go wrong George. Honestly, can't you understand that I'd do anything to go on living? Money doesn't mean anything to me. All that is important to me is my life. Please believe me."
If the old woman had been weakening a bit under Jane's convincing argument, George was anxious to believe her. He sensed, somehow, that the girl wasn't bluffing, that she meant her promise sincerely.
"Tell you what, Jane, let me and Ma talk about this for a while. I promise nothing'll happen to you tonight. Right Ma?" He looked toward his mother for approval.
"That's for sure, Jane. I mean it, honest. Me and George here will talk about it. Maybe we can work out somethin'. Meantime, don't you worry none about Grace. She won't get at you no more."
Jane realized that no additional argument was going to help her at this time. She sat back on the bed and nodded. George and his mother walked out of the room. She fell across the unmade bed and sobbed tears of exhaustion.