Still standing near the restaurant door, Hannah skimmed over the rest of the newspaper story.
Apparently, the woman had been in the bathroom when she’d heard Hall talking to an intruder, then the gunshot. Someone had broken into the john and knocked her unconscious with the butt of a revolver.
Hannah slowed down to read Tarin Siegel’s account of what she found when she regained consciousness and staggered out of the bathroom: “
“My God,” Hannah murmured. “It’s
“There you are,” Craig said, touching her shoulder. “I was looking for you.”
Hannah recoiled.
He laughed. “Are you okay?”
She quickly folded up the newspaper, almost crumpling it. “I’m fine,” she answered. “I need to get back to the store.”
“Let me just take care of the check—”
“I got it already,” she said impatiently. “Let’s just go.” Tucking the newspaper under her arm, Hannah headed for the door.
As she walked back to the video store with him, Hannah’s mind was going in a dozen different directions. The last time she’d seen Lester Hall, Craig was throwing him out of the store and threatening him. Craig had been in the supermarket with her when that
He took hold of her arm as they crossed the street. Hannah wrenched away from him. “I’m all right, thanks,” she said over the traffic noise. She started toward the door to Emerald City Video.
Craig stepped in her path, blocking the way. “Listen, Hannah, did I do anything to upset you?”
“No, I’m just—awfully late for work. I’ll call you. All right?” She moved around him and grabbed the door handle.
He braced a hand against the door. “Wait a second—”
“Please,” she said, losing her composure. “I need you to leave me alone. Just go! Okay?”
With a wounded look, Craig stared at her. Hannah hurried inside.
Scott manned the register nearest the door. He’d obviously heard the last part of her exchange with Craig. “Ouch,” he said. “That has to be one of the worst wrap-ups to a first date I’ve ever witnessed. What the hell happened? Are you all right?”
Through the front window, Hannah watched Craig slink away down the street. She moved behind the counter to her register. She was trembling. She set down the newspaper, and opened it for Scott to see. “Take a look at this. Isn’t this the
Hannah logged into the customer account records: Hall, Lester.
“Holy shit,” Scott muttered.
Hannah had seen the photograph. But she needed to make certain L. Hollis Hall was indeed Lester Hall.
On the register’s computer screen, the account for Hall, Lester H. came up. Same first and middle initial, and his address was in the Madronna area. Hannah noticed the icon blinking on an “N” in the corner of the screen. It meant there was a note on his account. She pulled up the note:
Hannah gasped. “Oh, my God, look what somebody wrote.”
Scott came to her side. “Relax, Hannah,” he said, a hand on her shoulder. “I wrote that last week—right after he had his hissy fit in here.” Scott let out a stunned laugh. “Christ, I didn’t know it would come true.”
Hannah backed away from the register. “First that rude Cindy woman who fell out of her apartment window a couple of weeks back,” she whispered. “And now this Lester Hall is shot. Don’t you see what’s happening?”
Scott nodded. “Yeah, it means I better be nice to you from now on, otherwise I’m dead meat.”
“That’s not funny,” Hannah said. She grabbed the newspaper. “Cover for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Hannah hurried out of the store, then started to cross the street toward the mall. Suddenly, a car horn blared, and tires were screeching. “You moron!” someone screamed from his car. “Watch where you’re going!”
Hannah stepped back to the curb. She hadn’t realized she was crossing against the traffic signal. She caught her breath and waited for the “Walk” signal. Her face felt hot. People were staring at her.
The traffic light changed, and Hannah hurried across to the mall. At the phone stations, she dug some change out of her purse, then checked the newspaper again. At the bottom of the article was a blurb about the reporter:
Hannah dialed the number, then counted two ring tones.
“This is David Serum,” he answered. Rock music from the Old Navy next door competed with him. Hannah had to cover her other ear.
“Yes, I have a question about your article today, about that murder in Madronna.”
“Can I get your name, please?”
“I just have a question,” she said. “I need to know if he was shot in the eye.”
“Um, I have to get your name, ma’am.”
“Answer my question, and I’ll tell you my name. Please, it’s important.”
She didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line.
“Are you still there?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, ma’am, but that information is not—”
“Please, tell me. Was he shot in the eye?”
“Yes, Mr. Hall was shot through the left eye. Now, if you could—”
Hannah quickly hung up.
She thought she was going to be sick. She wove through the crowd of shoppers in the mall, and hurried into the women’s rest room.
It was empty. Hannah ducked into the last stall. Bracing herself against the divider wall, she took several deep breaths until her stomach felt a little better.
She kept wondering why this was happening to her. These two people were murdered, and someone was telling her in advance how they would die. But why were they killed? Because they’d been rude to her?
Hannah felt another wave of nausea. Tears welled in her eyes.
Someone else stepped into the rest room. Hannah reached over and closed her stall door. She heard footsteps on the tiled floor. For a moment, she didn’t move. Hannah wiped her eyes with some toilet paper, and took a few more deep breaths. She flushed the toilet paper down the john, then opened the stall door.
The stall next to hers was empty. There was nobody by the sinks, either. She could have sworn someone was in the bathroom with her a minute ago.
Hannah glanced over toward the sinks again and noticed a small black rectangular box on the edge of the counter.
It was a videocassette.
Eight
