Hannah had wanted. No luck. He unearthed an envelope full of photos, but none of Hannah or Rae; no surveillance shots. They were snapshots of Seth and his roommate—on a hike with some other guys, and at the beach with a cute girl who seemed to be the roommate’s girlfriend. Ben also searched the front hall closet and kitchen cabinets, but he didn’t find anything.
Switching off the television, he went into the bedroom. There was only one bed for the two of them. Ben didn’t think they were gay. The porn tapes from the store indicated that the two roommates weren’t lovers. And if there was any room for doubt, when Ben checked under the bed, he uncovered several
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was past ten-twenty. Seth might be home at any minute.
Still, Ben kept looking—in the dresser drawers, the closet, and the built-in linen cabinet in the bathroom. If Seth Stroud had a secret collection of videos, camera equipment, and photographs, they weren’t here in this apartment.
Ben switched off the overhead in the bathroom, then returned to the living room. All at once, a beam of light swept through the windows. Ben heard a car.
He quickly ducked down. He could hear loose gravel and pebbles crunching under tires as the car came up the drive. His heart racing, he stayed crouched near the floor. There was no other way out, except for those stairs. He’d break his neck if he tried to climb out the bedroom window.
The dog started barking again.
Ben could hear muted music on the car radio, some oldies station; then the engine stopped purring. The headlights died. A car door clicked open. Then another door.
“Well, I don’t want to walk him,” a woman was saying. The car door shut. “Besides, Kaiser will only do a number two for you, honey.”
“Yeah, I bring out the best in him,” the husband replied. Another door shut. “You don’t suppose Phoebe or Chad walked him, do you?”
“Huh, dream on…”
Their voices faded as they walked up the driveway toward the house.
Ben let out a sigh. He wanted to get out of there before Seth or his roommate came back. But now he had to wait for that man to walk his dog and return home. Maybe then they’d turn off the front light.
With a shaky hand, Ben reached up and switched off the lamp in the living room. He would wait on the floor, in the dark. He’d already searched the place. He wasn’t going to find anything. He had a feeling they were wrong about Seth Stroud.
Hannah was in her bedroom, packing a second suitcase. She planned to leave tomorrow morning.
She’d called Dr. Donnellan, explaining there was a family emergency in Portland. And did he think—after nine days, and no residual fever or symptoms—that Guy was all right to travel? He’d given a cautionary okay for the commute, so long as Guy was kept comfortable, warm, and as isolated as possible. Hannah had decided to take a cab down to Tacoma. She’d lay low in a cheap hotel for a couple of days. Then they’d take a train to Portland or Eugene, maybe even further south. Guy liked trains.
The intercom buzzed. Ben had been gone for over ninety minutes, and she hoped it was him. She wasn’t expecting anyone else—unless the police worked even faster than she and Ben had figured.
Hannah grabbed the intercom phone. “Yes, hello?”
“Hi, it’s Paul. I brought that film book you wanted. Can I come up?”
Hannah hesitated. “Ah, sure. Just a sec.” She pressed the entry button, then hung up the phone. Retrieving the small knife from the kitchen drawer, Hannah hid it in her back pocket again. She unlocked the door, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her.
Paul came from the stairwell. He looked more relaxed this time around, and even had a confident stride to his walk as he approached her. Hannah noticed the book in his hand.
“Do you still have company?” he asked, handing her the book.
She nodded. “Yes. Thanks for bringing this, Paul.”
“I missed you in class tonight,” he said. “You know who else wasn’t there? That Ben What’s-his-name.”
She shrugged. “Well, thanks again, Paul.” She reached for the door.
He stepped toward her, then glanced in the window. “Could I come in for a drink? I’d like to meet these friends of yours.”
Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Now’s not a good time.”
He smiled. “You don’t really have people over, do you?”
Hannah hesitated.
“Are you afraid of me, Hannah?” He smiled. “I just want to help you.” He reached over and touched her face.
She backed against the door. “Paul, I do have someone here right now. He’s—um, spending the night.”
He frowned. “Is it that Ben character?”
“That’s really none of your business,” she said quietly. “Anyway, thank you for the book—”
“Hannah, I wouldn’t trust him if I were you—”
“I’m all right,” she said, cutting him off. “Okay, Paul? Good night.”
Shaking his head, he turned and started for the stairwell.
Hannah ducked back inside, and locked the door. She slipped the knife out of her back pocket and set it on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the book’s cover.
Hannah began reading:
Hannah shook her head and sighed. “God, what a snooze.”
Somewhere, amid the heavy-handed writing and paragraph-long sentences, was a possible explanation for what was happening to her. She read on, and found something in the fifth paragraph:
