The real shocker was the size of the house. From a far it looked average, but when driving underneath the huge Greek columns it reminded you of what t...he Gods of the old might have seen. A butler greeted him. "Do come in sir. The master of the house has been waiting for you. I shall have someone park your car for you."He spoke in one of those British accents that you would expect to find in a rich persons home. The butler then escorted Bill into the master den of the house where Mr. Williams was. “So, sorry, Father. Candice here lost one of her contacts, so I went to find it for her and I bumped into you while you were about to dip your mustard,” the guy apologized yet again in a very distinct New England accent, “I’m Randall Sullivan and this is my wife, Candice, of course. We’re from Maine.”“Maine, you say? Where Stephen King is from. Always a fan of his, you know. Oh, and I’m not actually a priest. This is more of a cosplay thing. As a matter of fact, I’m actually Jewish, believe it. Each girl would not know who else was being held or how many others he had captured as they would not leave their sound proof apartment for 12 years. He might pipe in the screaming of a girl he had to discipline to keep in line the other inmates brooding cells.Even the tv stations that he piped in for them came from a distant city via satellite to give them the impression they were being held close to that metro area. Part of his cover was that he raised large dogs so no one thought anything of. He is leaning forwards and after a while looks up as I enter. A slight incline of his head indicates he wants me to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk to him.Sitting down, I cross my legs, knowing my short dress will give him a glimpse of my thigh. I smile at him and my heart races as I take him in. His beautiful caramel coloured skin, piercing brown eyes and short hair. His tie is loose, top button undone and suit jacket open, unusually casual for a work night. And his hands,.