Watch Them Die

They were almost there. Hannah could already see the Tacoma Dome up ahead. Looking for hotel signs, she barely noticed the easy-listening station had switched over to the local news. But then she heard the announcer say something about a boat explosion on Lake Union.

Hannah leaned forward and listened intently.

“The victims of that blast have now been identified as a thirty-six-year-old Wisconsin businessman, Kenneth Woodley, and a private detective, also from Wisconsin, forty-year-old Walter Kirkabee. Both men were in Seattle searching for Woodley’s estranged wife, who abducted their son two years ago. Police are seeking the woman for questioning. In other news, a fraternity prank at the University of Washington went awry late last night when two seniors…”

Hannah sat back and gazed out the window. It was strange. Guy had just heard his father’s name on the radio, but he didn’t know it. If this morning’s visit from the police had left any room for doubt, now it was official. They were looking for her. They were announcing it on the radio, for God’s sake.

She saw a roadside sign for Amtrak at an upcoming exit. There were also signs for restaurants and motels: a Best Western, a Travelodge, and two more places.

Hannah leaned forward again. “Could you get off at the next exit, please?” she asked.

She decided that the Sleepy Bear Motel looked clean—and cheap enough. The sign out front showed a yawning bear wearing a nightcap and sitting in bed. “It Feels ‘Just Right!’” was the slogan above the blinking Vacancy sign. The motel was a sprawling two-story stucco with outside access to each room. Hannah noticed several fast-food places within walking distance.

There was also a train yard nearby. She could see the tracks on the other side of the parking lot’s chain-link fence. One advantage; they could probably walk to the Amtrak station.

The taxi driver unloaded their bags from the trunk. He even helped Hannah carry them into the lobby. The place smelled of coffee and had floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. There were also a lot of teddy bears. There was teddy bear-patterned wallpaper, a teddy bear calendar, a bookcase full of teddy bears behind the registration desk, teddy bear crochet pillows on the sofa and easy chairs, and porcelain teddy bear lamps.

Guy was fascinated with the place. Hannah paid the driver. She noticed the same easy-listening type of music playing on a radio behind the registration desk. She wondered if the motel clerk had just heard the same news report.

A middle-aged woman emerged from a back room on the other side of the counter. She had short brown frizzy hair and a kelly-green polyester skirt with a polka-dot blouse. She had a slightly desperate smile on her face. “Hi, there!” she chirped. “Do you need a room?”

Hannah stepped up to the desk. “Yes, please.”

“If you could fill out our little form, it would be wonderful.” The woman handed Hannah a pen, and put a card in front of her.

She borrowed Ben’s alias for the registration form: Ann Sturges & son, 129 Joyce Avenue, Yakima, WA 98409. She’d improvised the address, and purposely made the phone number undecipherable.

“I’m a little concerned about the noise from the railroad yard,” Hannah said, while filling out the form. “If you can give us a room that’s kind of quiet, I’d appreciate it.”

“Two beds?” she asked, typing on her computer keyboard. “One for Mamma Bear and one for Baby Bear?”

Hannah glanced up at her, a smile frozen on her face. “Um, yes. I—I’ll be paying in cash, and we’re staying two nights—maybe three.”

“Well, it’s lovely to have you,” the woman replied.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, handing her back the pen. She glanced out past the rain-beaded window at the parking area. She noticed an old burgundy-colored Volvo in the lot. Had it been there before? Was it the same car Ben had warned her about?

She couldn’t tell if anyone was in the front seat. The windshield was too dark. Hannah kept staring at the car. Then she saw the wipers sweep across the windshield for a beat.

A chill rushed through her. She grabbed Guy’s hand and pulled him closer. She turned her back on the car. The desk clerk was saying something, but Hannah didn’t really hear her. She remembered one of Rae’s e-mails. In it, she’d said her stalker drove a “wine-colored” Volvo.

Hannah didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t grab a taxi and go to some other motel. He’d simply follow her. She couldn’t call the police, either. She thought of Ben. But he probably hadn’t even checked into his hotel yet.

She stole a glance over her shoulder at the old Volvo again. He wouldn’t be just watching her tonight. His Psycho scenario was all set: the roadside motel, the rain, a woman fugitive, a cleansing shower. He’d have to use force to get her in the shower. Hannah imagined being stripped and dragged into a tub. What would he do to Guy?

“Ma’am?” the desk clerk said. She was holding out a room key. “I have you and the little one in Room 220. It’s very quiet.”

“Do you have two rooms that are adjoining?” Hannah asked.

The woman frowned at her. “Well, yes, on the first floor,” she said. “I can’t promise they’re as quiet as —”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Hannah said, stealing another look over her shoulder. “I—I want two rooms, with the inside door between.”

“Alrighty,” the woman murmured. She started typing on her computer keyboard again.

When the desk clerk gave her the keys to Rooms 111 and 112, Hannah quickly stashed one in her purse. She slung the tote strap over her shoulder and pulled the other two suitcases on their wheels. Guy insisted on helping. With one hand beside hers on the strap, he grunted and huffed and puffed.

As they moved across the shiny wet parking lot, Hannah spied the burgundy Volvo out of the corner of her eye. She could see someone in the front seat now. He sat behind the steering wheel. But his face was in the shadows.

They reached Room 112, and stepped inside. Hannah switched on the lights, then closed the door behind them. Guy caught his breath, then fell down on the brown shag-carpeted floor as if passing out.

“Honey, that floor’s probably filthy,” Hannah said, gazing at the room. There was a TV, and two full-size beds with comforters of a brown, gold, and beige paisley design. They matched the drapes. The headboards and other furnishings were of dark-stained wood in a Mediterranean design. Sixties chic. Framed pictures of pussy willows and birds were screwed to the wall above the beds.

Hannah unlocked the door between the rooms, then opened it. There was a second door, which could only be opened from the other side. Neither of the doors had knobs on the inside.

“Guy, please, get off the floor,” Hannah said. “C’mon. We have to take another trip back to the lobby.”

Hannah and Guy reemerged from the hotel room. She switched off the lights and shut the door. They started back to the lobby, lugging the suitcases again.

“Why couldn’t we stay?” Guy asked.

“That room isn’t very clean,” Hannah announced loudly. She was shaking her head. “We need to switch to another room.”

When they returned to the lobby with all their luggage, the desk clerk gazed at Hannah with concern. “Is there something wrong, ma’am?”

Hannah shook her head again, and set her room key on the counter. “No, not at all,” she said. “I just wanted to know if you can recommend a nearby restaurant.”

“Oh,” the woman smiled. “Well, from the way you came in here, I got the impression there might be something wrong with the room.”

That was the exact impression Hannah wanted to create—for Richard Kidd.

“No, the room’s fine,” Hannah said. “It’s terrific.”

“But Mom, you said—”

Hannah shot Guy a look that shut him up.

The desk clerk praised the fare at the Yankee Diner down the block. Hannah thanked her, and made a show of taking the room key from the countertop. Then she grabbed her bags again.

“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking,” the woman said. “Why did you—um, bring your luggage back here with