Pretty Girls Dancing(70)

“Yeah, yeah, the punk look is totally popular right now. I actually could show the shots we take to an agency I’m associated with. They might be able to get you a gig as a tattoo or piercing model.”

“Yeah?”

Janie shivered. The propane heaters he’d set up on either side of the fireplace hadn’t yet made a dent in the temperature. Newman seemed not to feel the cold. He’d slipped out of his parka and was busy taking pieces out of a suitcase. Screwing them into his camera.

“Yeah. It’s a niche market, but last year one of the girls I put in touch with them got some good gigs as a goth model. A bunch of her pics are on stock-photo sites.” Janie wondered if the girl was also on the site Cole had found on the deep web. “But it’s not enough to just have the right look. You have to have unique photos that catch their eye. That’s where I come in.”

“So how does this deal work?” Newman brought up a camera and snapped an impromptu shot of Alyvia as she slipped her coat off. She pouted. Posed. He took another. When he lowered it, Alyvia went on. “I mean, how do I make money off this gig? Can I get paid for these pictures?”

She was sticking to the script. Janie’s chest eased slightly. And being her friend, Alyvia hadn’t even inquired too closely about Janie’s insistence on this line of questioning.

“You mean for these shots? Probably not. You make your money once the talent agency puts you in touch with clients that hire you as a model. Strike another pose.” Alyvia obeyed, and the camera began to click and hum as he began to photograph her. “The agent is in touch with top advertising agencies and fashion designers. They’ll line up casting calls for you. You’ll get hired for jobs and make a bundle.”

Which was a line of bull if Janie had ever heard one. The thought of Herb Newman having any contact with a modeling agency was as far-fetched as her agreeing to a singing and dancing routine in the school talent show. Then the full import of his words hit her. If no money changed hands for the pictures, where had Kelsey gotten $1,000? According to this man, she would have had to accept a modeling job in order to get paid.

Doubt crept in. When would Kelsey have had time for that? And how would she have gotten to the job location without their mom taking her?

“That’s good. I like money.”

“You’ll be raking it in when those advertisers get a look at these shots. I’ve seen girls that resemble you in Teen Vogue. Not as good-looking, even.” Who would have guessed that Herb Newman, with the smelly food-catcher beard, was capable of such lines? He and Alyvia continued to chat as he took several more shot sequences.

“How ’bout you, sweetheart?” It took a moment for Janie to realize he was directing the words at her. “You interested in pictures, too?”

“She probably will be when she sees mine.” Alyvia bent forward at the waist, her low-cut shirt showing off her cleavage. Blew him a kiss. He captured the shot. “You took pictures of her sister a long time ago. That’s how we knew about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He threw an appraising look at Janie. “Who’s your sister?”

“Kelsey Willard.”

Alyvia glanced at her, clearly surprised that she hadn’t had to speak for Janie. But the words had burst from her throat as if propelled. Kelsey. The reason they were here. The reason Janie needed answers from this man.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” He studied her closely. “You don’t look much like her.”

“No.”

“But you got your own look, right? And for seventy-five bucks, the price I quoted to your friend here, you can get shots done, too. I’ll make you look real good.”

He turned his attention back to Alyvia, and they proceeded to take full-body shots. Her friend seemed comfortable in her role. She’d had to pretend to be someone else most of her life, just to adapt to all the crappy situations she found herself in because of her deadbeat mother. Janie actually thought she was enjoying this a little bit.

But Janie wasn’t. Especially since the man had admitted that he’d taken the pictures Kelsey had hidden in Janie’s room shortly before she disappeared. Now that she’d gotten what she came for, she still had to figure out a way to get the information to the cops. Pulling out her cell, she checked the time and saw they’d been there forty minutes already. She had to get Alyvia home soon.

“Okay.” Newman lowered his camera. “But you mentioned a tattoo. And if we’re going for the punk look, we need some shots of it. They’ll be tasteful,” he added. Janie’s brows rose. This from a man whose sweatshirt didn’t quite manage to cover his ample belly. Every time he brought up the camera, a ribbon of doughy flesh was revealed.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Alyvia played coy. “One’s on my shoulder, but the other is on my butt.”

“That’s fine. That’s perfect. Remember what I said about eye-catching pictures? I’ll turn around while you take your clothes off, and you can reveal as much as you’re comfortable with.” His smile revealed stained teeth. “I’ve been doing this for a while. I’ve seen it all. And I’m a master at making you look like a million bucks.”

The phone in her pocket vibrated. It took a moment for Janie to remember what that meant. When she did, a streak of urgency zipped up her spine. “We have to go.”