Considers tossing out a scream for good measure, but fears attracting the killer’s attention.

By the time Carol’s phone goes to voice mail, Sadie’s on the porch, banging on Carol’s door. Gets no response, so she calls Carol’s name. Gets nothing; turns, glances behind her.

Though Sadie sees and hears nothing, every hair on the back of her neck stands on end. Every synapse in her brain registers fear. Her instincts tell her a dangerous predator is within striking distance, and she’s the prey.

One thing about neighbor Carol: she’s always home. So why isn’t she answering her phone or door? Is the killer here?

Sadie takes a deep breath, tries the door.

Surprisingly, it’s unlocked.

With a great sense of foreboding, Sadie pushes it open a couple of inches and whispers, “Carol?”

There’s a scent.

Not a stench, but a smell that’s definitely out of place.

Fearing the worst, Sadie pushes the door completely open, takes a moment to focus…then shrieks.

It was a single shriek, more instinct than shock, as she had a general premonition of what to expect before opening the door. But what she sees: another note—calms her instantly and reminds her that the killer’s first note said Sadie would die tonight, not this morning, which means if the killer can be trusted, Sadie’s safe for the time being. She’s also relieved to see neighbor Carol sitting in a chair, ten feet from the front door, grinning hideously, holding a gun.

Except that…Carol’s dead.

The knife planted hilt-deep in Carol’s chest removes any doubt as to cause of death, but the wide, bloody smile carved across her face, Joker-style, reveals the killer’s sadistic streak.

The cardboard sign on Carol’s chest, held firmly in place by the knife that killed her, reads:

 

You Are So Predictable!

 

 

 

3.


 

REALLY? SADIE THINKS. I’m predictable? Wouldn’t it have been predictable to grab the keys and run to the car?

Rick thought so.

Is he predictable too?

And is it predictable to stand out here on Carol’s porch, staring at her neighbor’s body, debating how predictable she’s been up to now?

Sadie thinks not.

And she doubts the killer could have predicted she’d only scream once, or that she’s currently resisting the urge to flee the scene.

Why isn’t she screaming and running from Carol’s house?

Because those reactions would be highly predictable.

But you know what wouldn’t be?

Entering Carol’s house.

Sadie does so, closes the door behind her, locks it, and studies Carol’s body carefully, wondering, Why would someone want to kill me so badly they’d kill my neighbor just to frighten me?

She gives Carol a stern look. “How did you let this happen? You had a gun!”

She walks to the powder room, locks herself inside, figuring it’s as good a place as any to wait for Rick and the police.

Speaking of Rick….

She tries his cell phone.

No answer.

She’d like to turn on the faucet to wash her face, but can’t take a chance on the noise.

Wait. Noise?

Sadie laughs at the notion the noise from the faucet could possibly matter after the commotion she made on the doorstep moments ago. If Carol’s killer’s in the house, he already knows where she is. She leans over the sink, turns on the faucet, washes her face. Then checks herself in the mirror and sees a message reflected on the wall behind her, written in blood:

 

Tonight you die!

 

Under normal circumstances Sadie would gasp, or even scream. But her current tasks are clear: wait for help, and remain unpredictable. She turns and focuses on the bloody message. Was it meant for her, or Carol?

Not Carol, she thinks. Because how could the killer expect Carol to see a message written on the wall of her powder room? It’s not the bathroom Carol would use during the course of a normal day.

It’s for guests.

The blood is almost certainly Carol’s, which means the message was written after her attack, and almost certainly after her death. Believing otherwise would mean the killer brought someone else’s blood to the scene, and that’s not likely unless…

…Unless Carol’s house is a killing field.

As Sadie tries to summon the courage to search Carol’s house for bodies, her phone rings. Thinking it’s Rick or the 911 operator, she puts it to her ear.

“Sadie?”

“Yes?”

“Tonight you die!”

 

 

 

4.

 


“WHY?” SADIE WANTS to yell, but the killer hangs up before she gets the word out.

She presses the redial button. After two rings, the killer answers, saying, “You finally surprised me, Sadie. What do you want?”

“I want to live.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I suppose. But most of us don’t have to ask permission.”

He pauses a moment. “Would you like an extra day?”

“You’d consider it?”

“I might. But you’d have to earn it.”

“How?”

“By killing someone.”

“What?”

“You want to live another day? Kill someone.”

“Who? Rick?”

“What made you say Rick?”

“Uh…I’m not sure.”

“You want to kill your husband?”

“No, of course not!”

“And yet his was the first name you thought to mention.”

“I guess I figured if you know me, you must know Rick.”

“And?”

“You’d realize how easy it would be to kill him.”

“Why is that?”

“He’d never suspect it. Not from me, anyway. Plus…”

“Yes?”

“He trusts me.”

The killer says, “I may have underestimated you.”

“I get that a lot.” She pauses a moment, then says, “Who would I have to kill?”

“Your choice,” he says. “Surprise me. But do it before five p.m.”

“I can’t just kill some random person!”

“Then…tonight you die!”

A million thoughts flood Sadie’s brain, all of them bad. “Wait!” she says.

“What now?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Say it.”

“I’ll kill someone. Today, before five p.m.”

“You have someone in mind?”

“Are you crazy?”

“You want to rephrase that?”

“Sorry. I mean, no, I haven’t thought it through yet.