Watch Me by James Carol Page B

seen.
    So far there were three things I knew for sure.
    Firstly, wherever Sam’s killer was, whatever he was doing, he would be blending in like a chameleon right now, because that’s what killers like this one were exceptional at. They blended in. This guy was the quiet neighbour who always gave you a cheery wave and a polite hello. He was that work colleague who helped you out last fall when your car broke down. Who knows, he might even be the buddy whose barbecue you attended at the weekend.
    That’s the thing with this type of killer. Bump into them on the street and you’d never know what they really were. They had wives and kids and jobs. They had lives. But those lives were an illusion, smoke and mirrors to hide their true selves.
    I knew all about the smoke, and the mirrors. My father was a master illusionist. Fifteen murders over a twelve-year period and nobody suspected a thing.
    The second thing I knew for sure was that Sam’s killer would be obsessing over what he’d done. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He would be doing his best to treat today like it was just any other day. He’d be saying all the right things and making all the appropriate responses. If anything, he’d be even more careful than usual to make sure he blended in.
    And all the time last night’s events would be playing on a loop inside his head, an endless procession of sounds and images intruding into his every waking thought. In quieter moments, when he was sure he was alone, he might steal a few seconds to fully immerse himself in the memories, but the rest of the time he’d be making sure it was business as usual.
    The third thing I was absolutely certain of was that unless somebody stopped this guy he would strike again.
    There was one other thing that I was ninety-nine per cent certain of. That bombshell was going to be dropped on Taylor when he returned. I wasn’t sure how he’d react. Hopefully he’d be able to put his personal feelings aside and view things objectively. If he didn’t then I was on my own. That said, unless I’d read Taylor all wrong, I was confident it wouldn’t come to that.
    A soft knock on the door brought me back into the here and now. I closed the laptop lid, got up off the bed and let Hannah in. She carried her tray to the bedside table and put it down, the smell of fresh coffee following her across the room. There was a banana on the tray. I looked at the banana, looked at Hannah.
    ‘That’s not a candy bar.’
    Hannah smiled. ‘Ten out of ten for observation. Taylor said you were good. If you’ve got a problem with your blood sugar level, fruit is better. It’s a proven fact.’
    ‘It doesn’t taste as good‚ though.’
    ‘You’ll thank me later.’
    I reached for the banana, looked at it like it was some sort of torture device, then peeled it and started eating.
    Hannah’s smile turned into a grin. ‘You’re looking healthier already.’
    ‘I’m expecting a discount on the room.’
    The grin turned into a laugh. ‘Yeah, right.’
    I tipped two sugars into my mug and took a sip. It wasn’t in the same league as the Blue Mountain coffee served on the Gulfstream, but it was strong and packed with caffeine and it would get the job done.
    ‘Unless you’ve found the secret to eternal youth, I’m guessing you’re not the original Hannah.’
    Hannah laughed. It was a great laugh, melodic and inviting. I wanted to hear more of that laughter. A lot more. Occasionally you meet people in life who you’re immediately drawn to. Something just clicks into place, and you instinctively want to know everything about them.
    ‘That was my grandmother,’ she was saying. ‘She bought this place back in the sixties. It’s been in the family for more than fifty years.’
    ‘You’ve known Taylor for a while, haven’t you?’
    Hannah nodded. ‘We went to high school together. I was a couple of grades above him.’
    ‘The older girls don’t tend to give the