Watch Them Die

“She called me a few days later,” Ben said, sliding a copy of yet another newspaper article in front of Hannah. It was dated August 8. She glanced at the headline:

SEATTLE MAN PLUMMETS TO HIS DEATH FROM HIGH-RISE

Police Probe Rooftop Fall:

Freak Accident or Suicide?

Hannah skimmed over the article, which suggested that the victim, Joe Blankenship, had been indulging in some illegal substances at the time of his demise.

“Did she try talking to the police again?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah,” Ben said, frowning. “It was pointless.”

Hannah imagined how the police must have reacted when Rae Palmer once again approached them saying this drug-induced freak accident had been forecast to her in a video.

“This is the last e-mail,” Ben said, handing her another printout. It was dated 8/29/02:

You haven’t returned my message from a couple of days ago. I hope I haven’t become a total pain, Ben. It’s just that I have no one else to turn to.

I found another video, this one in my desk drawer at work. I don’t know how he got in there. This time the movie is Looking for Mr. Goodbar, and it was cued to start up near the very end, the scene where Tom Berenger is having sex with Diane Keaton & suddenly he pulls out a knife and stabs her to death.

I know a woman named Diane who’s in payroll. But I don’t know her that well. Yet I feel I should warn her. It’s crazy. I don’t know why this is happening. I wonder who could be doing this & I keep coming back to my ex, Paul. But I can’t prove anything.

Meanwhile, I know sometime soon some woman I know will be stabbed to death in bed.

I wish I could just run away someplace. I know it’s a lot to ask, but could I come out there & stay with you for a while? Or maybe, better still, you could come out here? I could even put you & Jennifer up at the hotel, give you two a suite at a ridiculously low rate. In fact, I’d pay for you guys. I feel so alone, Ben.

Anyway, please, think about it & get back to me.

Hannah set down the e-mail sheet. Her eyes met Ben’s. “Did you find out the identity of this Goodbar victim?” she asked.

He slowly shook his head. “I tried calling Rae afterward, but there was no answer. I kept trying—on and off —for over a week. Then I came out here.” He straightened the pile of papers and tucked them back inside the folder.

“Can I see Rae’s picture again, please?” Hannah asked.

Ben found the photo, then handed it to her.

She studied Rae’s eyes. Weren’t they the same blue eyes with the dead stare in the Goodbar homage? It had been over two weeks since Hannah had seen the grisly video. She didn’t think she’d ever forget that woman’s face. Obviously, she had—for a while. But looking at Rae Palmer’s picture helped her remember.

She handed the photo back to Ben. “Do you mind if we get out of here?” she asked quietly.

“Not at all,” he said, leaving a tip on the table. “Are you okay?”

“I just need some air,” she said, getting to her feet.

Hannah headed for the door, with Ben right behind her.

She’d been right earlier. She had indeed seen Rae Palmer before.

She’d seen her die.

Twelve

He videotaped them sitting at the window table of the coffeeshop. Due to a reflection on the glass, he caught only a few, fleeting, usable close-ups of her with his zoom lens. Still, he knew he had some beautiful shots of Hannah in that twenty-five minutes of footage.

He put his video camera away as he followed them out of the coffeeshop. He watched them through the trees. Walking side by side, the two of them looked like a couple of lovers. Even from across the street, he could see Hannah was smitten with Ben. The son of a bitch.

Of course, he knew it would happen. Hell, he’d made it happen, orchestrating their every move. He was pulling the strings.

Still, he’d expected more from his leading lady. He’d thought she would hold out a bit longer before succumbing to Ben’s charms. He was disappointed in her. Hannah still fascinated and aroused him, but she’d lost his respect.

He’d been through this before with the others. Once a leading lady fell out of favor with him, he became all the more anxious to realize her death scene.

Hannah’s demise had already been planned—down to the last detail. Now it was time to put the plan in