Watch Them Die

“I lost track of what I was saying,” Paul admitted, rubbing his chin.

His assistant, Seth, cleared his throat. “You were talking about the missing girl,” he said, with a half-smile. “In the movie, Monica Vitti’s friend, who disappears…”

Paul nodded. “Yes, that’s right,” he said, visibly annoyed. After stealing another glance at the door, he lectured for a few more minutes; then he cued Seth to start the film.

While Seth dimmed the lights, Paul gathered up his notes and folder. He came down the aisle toward Ben. He turned and sat at the desk next to Hannah’s vacant spot.

About ten minutes into the movie, Ben gave up hope that Hannah might arrive late. He decided he’d leave during intermission, then walk over to Hannah’s place and check in on her.

“Do you know where she is?”

Paul Gulletti caught him off guard. Ben blinked and stared at the teacher. Turning in his desk chair, Gulletti was leaning toward him—almost in a private huddle. “I’m sorry, what?” Ben asked in a hushed tone.

“Do you know where Hannah is tonight?” Paul whispered.

Ben shook his head. “Why are you asking me?”

“I thought you two were friends or something. Last couple of classes, I saw you talking with her.”

Ben frowned at him. “Well, we might have been talking with each other. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Really? Seemed to me the two of you were getting along pretty well.”

“I wasn’t aware that we had an audience,” Ben replied. “In any event, I’m sorry. I can’t help you. I don’t know where Ms. Doyle is.”

“Well, thank you, Mr.—um, I’m sorry. I forgot your last name.”

“Sturges,” Ben said.

Paul nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Sturges,” he said coolly. Then he turned forward to watch the movie.

At the break, Ben grabbed his notebook and jacket, and started out of the classroom. He passed by Seth, who was leaning against the doorway.

“Man, he sure hates your guts,” Seth remarked, with a lopsided grin.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“The Prof,” Seth said, peering over the top of his glasses toward the front of the classroom. Paul was once again seated on the edge of his desk. “He thinks you’re horning in on his girlfriend,” Seth said.

“You mean Hannah? I didn’t know she was his girlfriend.”

“Neither does she. But Paul is working on it. And in most situations, what the Prof wants, the Prof gets. What’s with you? Are you taking off?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a headache.”

“Well, take care,” Seth said. He glimpsed over his shoulder at Paul once more. Ben followed his gaze.

Paul Gulletti was glaring back at him.

“Huh, ‘if looks could kill,’ right?” Seth whispered, smirking.

Ben just nodded, then moved on down the corridor.

“Read it again, Mom,” Guy said. He was sitting up in bed with a pillow behind his back. He took the Dr. Seuss book from Hannah’s hands and opened it to the first page. “Here, Mom. Do it again….”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so tired,” she groaned, pushing the book away. Seated on the edge of the bed, she slouched against the headboard. “I can hardly keep my eyes open. You read to me for a change. Tell me what’s in the pictures, and see how fast I fall asleep. We’ll pull the old switcheroo.”

“Okay,” he said. His brow wrinkled as he studied the book in front of him. With his rash and the remnants of calamine lotion, Guy’s complexion was a bright pink against his blond hair. “The first pitcher is of this yellow guy in a big balloon, and he’s singing….”

“Hmmm, that’s nice,” Hannah murmured.

She was so tired. Yet as Hannah closed her eyes, she could once again see that man from earlier tonight, standing by the dumpsters, videotaping her. She tried to convince herself that she was safe now—with Guy at her side. The door and the windows were all locked. There would be no intruders tonight—unless, of course, the police paid her an unexpected visit.

She was on borrowed time with them, and considered hiding out in some cheesy little hotel until Guy recovered.

The thought of a cheesy hotel reminded her again of that scene from Casino. She was still worried about Britt ending up dead in some such place. Hannah had called her an hour ago. Britt had reported that she was fine: “I told you before, I’m spending the weekend with Webb. Jeez, quit worrying about me!”

But Hannah couldn’t trust Britt to look out for herself. She didn’t trust Webb, either.

Any notion of going to the police had been shot down by that detective on the phone three hours ago. That was just the tip of the iceberg, too. In addition to kidnapping and larceny charges, she’d forged documents and committed fraud. She was also implicated in three murders that she’d failed to report.

All she wanted to do was run away. Maybe then the killings would stop. The police and the Woodleys’ private detective wouldn’t know where to look for her. But she had a sick little boy who had to stay at home in his own bed. Doctor’s orders.

Besides, someone was out there, watching her every move. How did she expect to slip past him? Even if she moved to a tiny little desert town or a major city on the California coast, how could she be sure he wouldn’t follow her there?

What in God’s name made her think she could nod off while her mind was going in a dozen different directions? She’d never felt so tired and on edge at the same time.

Guy’s storytelling had diminished to some snoring.

When Hannah opened her eyes, he was asleep with the book in his lap. She carefully climbed off the bed, stole the book from under his hands, then tucked him in. Just as she was switching off his nightstand lamp, someone buzzed from the lobby.

Hannah flinched. Immediately, she thought of her stalker, and then, the police. For a moment, she couldn’t move.

Guy stirred a little, but he didn’t awaken.

The buzzer sounded again. Hannah hurried to the intercom. She glanced at her wristwatch: 9:40. This was no casual call. She pressed the intercom switch. “Hello?”

“Hannah? It’s Ben Sturges.”

Hannah let out a little sigh. At least it wasn’t the police. Still, she was perturbed. “Don’t you mean Ben Podowski?” she said into the intercom.

“I can explain that—if you’ll let me come up.”

She hesitated. The last person to drop by unannounced was Ronald Craig on the night he was murdered.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she said.

“Couldn’t I see you for just a few minutes?” he asked.

Hannah bit her lip. She didn’t feel safe letting him in while she was alone with Guy—and at night. “Listen,” she said. “I’m sorry. It’s late. I’ve already gotten ready for bed. If you need to see me, drop by the video store tomorrow. I take my break at two.”

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I didn’t see you in class. I was worried.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just didn’t feel like going tonight, that’s all.” Then she remembered something. “Um, Ben? Was everyone else there—at class? Paul didn’t come late, did he?”

“No, he was there on time. Why?”

“I’m just curious. Was anyone else absent—or late?”

“Well, I didn’t notice anybody else. I was mostly concerned about you. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, I’m okay, thanks,” she said vaguely. She was thinking about that man videotaping her tonight. It had happened just around the time class was starting. If that figure in the shadows wasn’t Paul Gulletti or someone from the class, who was he?