Watch Them Die (20 page)

While his wife was grieving for her dead lover, Ben kept hearing from Rae, who begged him to come to Seattle. Ben decided to leave Jennifer alone with her grief. Every tear she shed was a jab to his heart. At the time, his friend seemed more worth rescuing than his marriage.

As far as Hannah was concerned, this Jennifer sounded like a jerk. But she tried to remain quietly impartial as Ben told his story. Besides, once he found Rae’s killer, he planned to go back to Jennifer and work things out.

In the meantime, Hannah was playing house with Ben Podowski. All through the evening she’d had to keep fighting her attraction to him. Lying there, alone in bed, she told herself that she couldn’t afford to get involved. She was leaving Seattle herself—very soon.

Small wonder she couldn’t sleep.

She wanted a glass of water. Or maybe that was just an excuse, giving herself permission to walk through the living room and check on him. Still, she was thirsty.

Hannah threw back the covers, climbed out of bed, and donned her robe. She felt butterflies in her stomach. The truth was, she wanted something to happen.

Unconsciously fussing with her hair, she tiptoed down the hallway to the living room. She peered around the corner. The couch had been vacated. The sheets were still in a tangle across the sofa cushion. She reached for the end-table lamp; then she looked toward the window and froze.

Ben stood against the wall, by the edge of the curtains. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a pair of jeans he must have put on hastily. The front snap was still open. He shook his head at her, then put a finger to his lips.

Hannah didn’t understand at first. Then she saw the silhouette on the other side of the curtains. At the half inch where the drapes didn’t quite meet, someone was trying to peek inside.

Hannah gasped and accidentally knocked over the lamp. It fell to the floor with a crash.

The figure outside reeled back from the window, then raced toward the stairwell.

Ben headed out after him. “Stay inside,” he told Hannah. “Lock the door.” He ran down the balcony walkway, and ducked into the stairwell.

Hannah watched him from the doorway. Then she retreated inside, closed the door, and locked it. Stepping over the broken lamp, she hurried down the hall and checked in on Guy. Miraculously, he was still asleep.

Hannah went back to the living room and opened the curtains. She watched and waited for Ben. With every passing minute, she grew more and more anxious. She couldn’t help thinking that Ben had been set up, lured outside for his execution. But she would have gotten a video first, a coming attraction for Ben’s death. Then again, maybe all bets were off, now that their last attempt on his life had failed.

Hannah cleaned up the broken lamp, hoping the time would go by faster. It occurred to her that while she was inside waiting for him, Ben could be hurt. She pictured him lying in a pool of blood at the bottom of those cement stairs. She struggled with the idea of going out there and looking for him. But she didn’t dare leave Guy alone.

Suddenly, she heard a soft tapping on the door. Hannah glanced out the window. To her utter relief, it was Ben. She flung open the door.

“I lost him,” Ben announced, out of breath.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

Hannah embraced him, almost collapsing in his arms. She touched his hairy chest, and felt his heart pounding. Her heart was racing, too.

Ben stoked her hair, then stepped back. “I didn’t get a good look at the guy,” he said. “I was trying to catch a glimpse of him when you came in.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I screwed it up, knocking over the damn lamp.”

Ben locked the door again. “He must have used the second floor and taken the back stairs down. I searched everywhere—including the basement. I think he’s gone.”

Hannah stood near the door. She touched his arm. She was still trembling. “Well, can I—get you anything?”

“No, I’m okay,” he said, scratching his head. “I don’t think I’ll fall asleep again right away, but I might as well give it a try.”

“Ben…” She hesitated.

“Maybe you ought to try getting some sleep yourself,” he suggested. He closed the curtains. “You have work in the morning. I’ll be okay out here. You shouldn’t stay up. That guy’s not coming back.” He tried to smile at her. “Nothing more is going to happen tonight, Hannah.”

She sighed. “You’re right. Nothing is going to happen.”

Hannah started back toward her bedroom. She never did get her glass of water.

Sixteen

It was nine-twenty, and only a handful of students still lingered around the third-floor lounge area. The windows on one side had a sweeping view of the Seattle skyline, brightly lit against the cloudy night. Most of the classes were out, and the hallways seemed deserted. Paul Gulletti’s Monday evening class had ended at seven-thirty. But he was still in his office—just down the hall.

The alcove where Hannah and Ben were hiding couldn’t be seen from the hallway. It was tucked behind a corner, partially concealed by the lounge’s vending machines and pay phones. The little niche had room for only a couple of sofa-chairs. Hannah sat in one while Ben stood guard. He peered around the corner, past the vending machines and down the hallway.

For the last two hours, they’d been waiting. Ben had stolen a master key from one the janitors. He’d told her about his discovery of a maintenance-crew lounge and locker room in the basement. This morning, he’d followed one of the night crew janitors down there, then “borrowed” his key ring while he was in the shower. A green plastic doodad around the base of one key set it apart from all the others on the ring. Ben had figured it must be the master. He’d tested it on a few basement doors and it had worked. Ben replaced the key ring before the janitor had finished his shower. Later, the key got him into every office and classroom he’d tried. Ben figured the custodian probably wouldn’t realize his master key was missing until tomorrow.

“You’re pretty good at following people around, aren’t you?” Hannah had said when he’d told her about stealing the key. “I certainly had no idea when you were watching me.”

She was a bit irritated with him today. This morning, they’d been eating breakfast together when Joyce had shown up. She pulled Hannah aside. “Wow. He sure is cute,” she whispered. “You hold onto him.”

But holding onto him was impossible. Hannah had gone off to work feeling horribly depressed. And it wasn’t just Ben either. It was everything. She couldn’t stop thinking about Britt, and what she might have done to prevent her death. She hated leaving Guy’s side while he was sick—and while this maniac was out there. Hell, she hated constantly looking over her shoulder. And as much as she had to, she dreaded having to run away again, starting over in a new city with a new name.

At the video store, her plans to obtain more information from Seth went down the drain. Paul’s assistant wasn’t working at the store today.

Later, when Ben came by to tell her that he had the key to Paul’s office, Hannah insisted on coming with him. Ben had never been in Paul’s office. He wouldn’t know what to search for. He’d never met Cindy Finkelston, Lester Hall, or Britt. Hannah was the one who would recognize possible souvenirs from those killings.

From the store that afternoon, she’d called Joyce, saying she wouldn’t be home until after eight. But now it was nearly nine-thirty, and they hadn’t even started searching Paul’s office yet.

“So what do you think?” Hannah asked Ben while she dug some change out of her purse. “Did he fall asleep in there, or what? I better call Joyce again.” She got to her feet. “Huh. You’d think one of us would own a cell phone.”

Ben peeked around the corner. “Coast is clear.”

Hannah stepped up to the pay phone and dialed home.

“You’re going to loathe me,” she said when Joyce answered on the other end. “I’ll be another hour—at least. Does that screw you up?”

“Yes, hon, I have a date with Robert Redford tonight. He’s picking me up at ten. Ha, don’t sweat it. Everything’s copacetic here. In fact, want to say good night to my pal here? I’m taking the cordless into his room.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Ben urgently signaling to her. She glanced over her shoulder. Paul Gulletti came down the hallway with a folder tucked under his arm.

Hannah swivelled around so her back was to him. She could see his reflection in the darkened window across the lounge. He was coming at her.

“Hi, Mom,” she heard Guy say on the other end of the line.

“Hi, honey,” she whispered, shrinking away as Paul Gulletti drew closer. “Um, how are you feeling?”

“The chicken pox itches a lot today,” he whimpered. He sounded groggy. “Is Ben spending the night?”

“Yes, but—um, you’ll be asleep by the time we come home.”

Paul passed her, and continued down the corridor to the elevators.

“Why aren’t you guys home now?” Guy was asking on the other end of the line. “I want to see Ben.”

The elevator arrived for Paul, and he stepped aboard. Meanwhile, Ben gave her a secret wave; then he hurried up the hallway and turned the corner to Paul’s office.

“Mom?”

“You’ll see Ben in the morning, honey,” Hannah said into the phone. “I love you. Now, give the phone back to Joyce, and get some sleep.”

In the background, she heard Joyce talking to him. The four students who were in the lounge all left together, slowly moving toward the stairwell. One girl’s laughter echoed in the hallway.

“Hi,” Joyce said, back on the line. “As you can tell, someone’s a little cranky. I think he’ll be down for the count after a session with Dr. Seuss.”

“Well, I should be home sometime around ten-thirty,” Hannah said. “I’m sorry to screw up your whole evening like this.”

“I’ll see you when I see you. And if you’re with that tall drink of water from this morning, please don’t rush home on my account.”

Hannah let out a sad laugh. “That’s not how it is with us. But thanks anyway. See you soon, Joyce.”

She hung up the phone, then turned around in time to see Paul Gulletti step out of the elevator. Hannah froze. She wondered why the hell he was back so soon.

They were the only two people in the corridor. Paul started toward her. The closer he got, the more he smirked. “Well, hello, stranger,” he said at last. He looked her up and down. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Hannah explained, forcing a smile. “I was just about to leave a message at your office.”

“Well, I walked by here only two minutes ago,” Paul said. “I didn’t see you, Hannah. It’s been too long. You know, you missed my last class.”

“Yes, I’m—sorry about that.” She glanced down the other corridor toward Paul’s office. “It’s um—one reason I wanted to see you, Paul,” she said loudly. “Also I wanted to ask what you thought of the notes I e-mailed. You know, the ones about the blacklist?”

He laughed. “What are you shouting for?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have a little of that inner ringing in my ear. It’s gone now.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Come to my office with me. I forgot something in there earlier. Now, I’m glad I did.”

She hesitated, then started walking with him. “So—about the notes, Paul?” she asked, a bit too loudly again.

“I haven’t gotten around to them yet.” He smiled. “But it doesn’t mean you haven’t been on my mind, Hannah.”

She started talking about the content of her notes, babbling really. All the while, she hoped Ben could hear them approaching.

Paul unlocked the door, stepped inside, and switched on the overhead light. Hannah glanced back at the hallway, half-expecting to see Ben hiding in one of the other doorways. But there was no sign of him.

She walked into the office, where Paul circled around to the other side of his desk. He lifted up a miniature fake Oscar that served as a paperweight, then grabbed a key hidden beneath it and unlocked his desk drawer.

Standing near the door, Hannah took in the office, her eyes darting back and forth. She wondered how Ben could have escaped without so much as a sound.

Paul pulled some reading glasses from the desk drawer, locked it, then returned the key to its place under the ersatz mini-Oscar. He looked up at her and smiled. “You know, standing there in that black sweater with your blond hair, you look like a Hitchcock leading lady.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. But thanks.”

“I’m not sure if you look more like Grace Kelly or Eva Marie Saint,” he said, slipping the glasses in his breast pocket. “You’ve got that kind of classic beauty, Hannah. I’ve always thought so. I was very disappointed last week when you turned down my dinner invitation. Maybe you’ve reconsidered. Is that what this little visit is about?”

“Sort of,” Hannah replied. “I’d like to go out with you, Paul. I just haven’t had any time recently. But—” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence.

Something in the tall picture window caught her eye. The sill was a couple of feet off the ground, and Paul had a stack of film books on one end. On the other end, Ben stood motionless behind the folds of the open beige curtain. His back pressed against the glass, he gazed down at her.

She shifted her eyes back to Paul. “Um, I have a sick little boy at home. I—I can’t see you this week. Maybe next week?” She let out a nervous laugh. “I guess what I’m saying is I’d like a rain check on that date, if the offer still stands.”

Grinning, Paul came toward her. “You bet it does,” he whispered. “And I’m holding you to it.” He kissed his fingertip, then touched her lips.

Hannah managed to keep smiling. She stole a glance up at Ben again. “Maybe we should go,” she said to Paul. “They’ll probably be locking up soon.”

He took her by the arm and led her out of the office. Paul switched off the light, then closed and locked the door. “Speaking of Hitchcock and his blondes, we’re showing
The Birds
in class this Thursday. I hope you’re not planning another no-show.”

“I’ll try to be there,” Hannah said, starting down the hall with him. Their footsteps echoed in the vacant corridor. “I, um, haven’t seen
The Birds
in a while.”

“Remember the scene near the end of the movie, when Tippi Hedren hears the wings flapping somewhere on the second floor of the house? She grabs a flashlight and goes up to the bedroom to investigate. Remember?”

Hannah nodded. “She gets attacked by all those birds.”

Paul rang for the elevator. “Do you know what kind of special effects they used for that scene?”

Hannah shook her head. She was having a hard time following his conversation. She wondered how she was going to get rid of Paul. She didn’t feel safe alone with him. As the elevator door opened, she balked.

He took her by the arm again, then led her inside. She quickly pressed the button for the first floor. Paul’s shoulder rubbed against hers. The elevator door shut.

“They used real ravens and gulls in that scene, Hannah. Two stagehands in thick gloves spent hours and hours hurling birds at Tippi Hedren. It took three days to shoot that scene. The poor girl had a nervous collapse at the end of it.”

He slowly maneuvered his body so that he was standing between her and the elevator doors. “What do you think of that, Hannah?”

She shrugged uneasily. “Sounds pretty—harrowing.”

“But Tippi was Hitchcock’s discovery, don’t you see? She may have suffered, but it was for his artistic vision. How far would you go for the sake of realizing an artistic vision?”

“I don’t think I’d go that far,” she replied, shaking her head.

The elevator door opened. Hannah brushed past him and ducked out to the corridor. It was as if she hadn’t been able to breathe in there. She glanced up and down the hallway.

Except for a janitor wheeling a garbage pail and two students lingering by the main entrance, Hannah didn’t see anyone else in the area. She caught a couple of breaths, but she tensed up again when Paul came up to her side.

“That’s going to be the topic of discussion after the movie,” he said. “How much power should a director have over his leading lady? How much intimidation and control—for the sake of art?”

“Ought to make for a stimulating discussion,” Hannah said, with a weak smile.

She remembered Seth talking about how Otto Preminger badgered Jean Seberg during the filming of
Bonjour Tristesse
. He’d made the same point as Paul about a director’s right to unlimited power over his actors—especially a leading lady he’d “discovered.” She wondered if perhaps Seth had picked up that notion from one of Paul’s lectures. Or did they simply think alike? Maybe Ben was right, maybe Paul and Seth were working together, and she was their unwitting leading lady, their
discovery.

“You seem tense,” Paul said, placing his hand on the back of her neck.

“No, I’m all right.”

“I give a terrific neck rub, you know. You’d love it.”

“I—I better take a rain check on that, too,” she said, edging away from him, toward the main doors.

“Well, at least let me give you a lift home,” he suggested.

“Actually, I have someone coming to pick me up. But thanks anyway.” She pushed the heavy door and stepped outside. The chilly October night air felt good.

Paul came up to her side once more.

“You don’t have to wait around,” she said. “I’m fine here. I’ll see you in class Thursday. By then, I’ll know when we can get together for our dinner date. I’m really looking forward to it, Paul.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Who’s coming to pick you up? Is it that Ben Sturges character? I know you’ve been seeing him.”

“How would you know that?” Hannah asked.

“I just know,” he replied. “You disappoint me, Hannah.”

“Well, don’t be disappointed,” she said, staring him in the eye. “Because you’re wrong about Ben What’s-his-name. I barely know him. The person who’s picking me up is a friend of my son’s baby-sitter. His name is Lars, and he’s sixty-seven years old. Any more questions or objections?”

He laughed, then kissed her on the cheek. “You can’t fool me. I know you better than you think. Good night, Hannah.”

Hannah watched him walk toward the parking lot, then disappear around the corner.

She shuddered, and wiped his kiss from her cheek.

Hannah didn’t step back inside the school right away. She waited until Paul drove by in his Toyota. She gave him a little wave, and watched the car continue down the street.

Only then did she duck back inside the college. On her way to the stairwell, she didn’t see anyone in the main corridor. Hannah hurried up the stairs to the third floor. Stepping out to the hallway, she discovered someone had switched off most of the overheads. Only a few spotlights at the exits illuminated the way.