Verwandte Artikel zu I'll Be Watching You: A Novel

I'll Be Watching You: A Novel - Hardcover

Gotti, Victoria

 
9780609602409: I'll Be Watching You: A Novel
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0609602403 ISBN 13: 9780609602409
Verlag: Crown Pub, 1998

Inhaltsangabe

A glamorous woman with an unglamorous past, the wife of a wealthy politician is threatened by a stalker who is no stranger, in a fast-paced psychological thriller by the author of The Senator's Daughter. 75,000 first printing. Tour.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

VICTORIA GOTTI's first novel was The Senator's Daughter. She lives on Long Island with her husband and three sons.

Aus dem Klappentext

menace of long-hidden secrets and the darkness of the human heart, I'll Be Watching You is a chilling tour de force by Victoria Gotti, author of the critically acclaimed legal thriller The Senator's Daughter.<br><br> Rose Miller is a best-selling novelist with a seemingly perfect life: a devoted and wealthy husband with his eye on a gubernatorial nomination, a splendid country mansion, and an adorable daughter. But Rose has something else too--a shadowy stalker who sends her blood red roses with threatening notes that hint at Rose's hidden past . . . a life she thought she had buried forever.<br><br> Who is stalking Rose? Nearly everyone is a suspect. It could be Dario, her ruthless and controlling publicist, whose crush on Rose is getting a little out of hand. Or Dimitri, her devilishly handsome ex-lover, now a millionaire hotel baron with his own reasons for wanting revenge

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The appearance of imminent death always exhilarated him. Billy moved from the bed, pulled up his trousers, and took a step backward to better view the scene. He stared at the inert form lying with arms and legs gracefully stretched on the mound of cheap velour blankets and threadbare sheets. She looked perfect, serene. Her eyes were closed as though in sleep; long blond curls like expensive lambswool delicately embroidered the edge of the pillow, cascading down the side of the worn motel mattress. The white lace teddy sprinkled with pearls - the one he'd purchased and made her change into was appropriate for the moment, complementing the rhinestone tiara on top of her head.

Put it on," Billy had told her earlier. "No, I couldn't possibly...."

Ignoring her protest, he'd fastened the tiara on her head. Then he backed away and moved toward the portable stereo that he had brought with him for this "romantic" evening. The cassette he had specially prepared was already in place. Soon the music began, and filled the room.

Billy walked back to the bed and reached for her hands. His pulse quickened. "Lets dance to the perfect wedding song."

The look he'd been waiting for came into her eyes. When she resisted his offer, he sat beside her on the quilted polyester bedspread - standard seedy motel decor. He could now see that first tiny flicker of awareness that something wasn't quite right.

Recognizing she was in danger, the near naked showgirl he'd lured away from the strip joint reacted just like all the others. At first she began speaking too quickly, nervously.

"I have to go," she said, her eyes darting around the room, her voice now shaky.

"Just one dance," he whispered as he pulled her up and held her tightly against him. She felt good in his arms. She belonged there, just as they all had. For a moment he felt disloyal, thinking she might feel better than Rose.

Then he felt her panic accelerate. Her body grew rigid and her eyes filled with fear. This was his favorite part, and tonight his enjoyment was intensified. She was particularly satisfying. At the end, she seemed to know it was useless to plead, and in a burst of animal strength, she fought him. He placed his hands around her throat, and when she began to lose consciousness, he whispered, "Till death do us part."

When she was dead, he danced with her again. This time there was no resistance in her lovely, flaccid body.

As the music began to fade, his eyes fastened on the white lace teddy. Was she an angel yet? No, he thought; with her sordid past, he assumed shed be relegated to a demon. Billy turned his back on her and walked to the window. There was a chill coming in from the cracks around the panes. The incoming draft made a soft hissing sound that vaguely pleased him. Outside, the streets were tranquil. He'd have to celebrate this triumphant moment in silence. His eyes closed as the keen thrill coursed through his body. Then he opened them and shifted his gaze toward the sky.

The day dawned blue and wan, the sun only an imagined presence behind a thick blanket of clouds over the city, which from his vantage point looked like one huge gray puddle. The few patches of snow left over from last weeks mild storm had turned to dirty slush as the temperature inched up a few degrees. Gray, wet, dirty...how befitting the moment, he thought.

Billy reached inside the pocket of the blue flannel shirt he was wearing and pulled out a box of Marlboros and a gold lighter. He lit a cigarette and dragged heavily on its tip. He always savored that first cigarette after one of these strenuous scenes, his version of "afterglow".

The motel room was sparsely furnished. There were a few scattered pieces of antiquated furniture and the few personal belongings the stripper had brought up with her: a purse, a magazine, and a cheap pink umbrella. The cleanup routine had been perfected through experience; already the fingerprints and debris were completely removed. He had played out this same scenario a number of times before.

Billy searched his memory for her name. Was it Roseanne, Rosemarie, perhaps even Rachel? He couldn't remember. Oh well, it didn't matter - not now, anyway. He lit another cigarette and inhaled the nicotine deeply, then turned back to her. A rush of pleasure suffused him. Those luminous dancing eyes, not dancing anymore, pouty lips, enticing, inviting. Except for the red marks around her neck, she looked pristine, a perfect beauty. He'd waited several years for this unforgettable moment - and others like it, with more still to come.

From his pocket he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, its edges jagged, having been torn from a book. He read it, not once, but twice, and then smiled. He had accomplished his plan scrupulously, right down to the last detail. He focused on the vase resting on the end table, then checked his watch. Three hours, three roses. How perfect. Billy's intense gaze was fixed on the flowers; he was mesmerized for a moment.

Now it was time for him to leave, but not before he'd added the finishing touch. He walked to the end table and removed the roses from the vase. Gently, careful not to prick his fingers on the thorns, he plucked the petals and scattered them around the bed, blankets, sheets, and the showgirls lifeless body.

In his head he heard the music begin again. Always, it seemed quiet at first, as though whispered in his ear. As the song grew louder, he began softly whistling the lyrics. The subtle fragrance of the petals enlivened his senses. Their touch, scent, and beauty enveloped him, and now he was singing along to the music:

The moment you wake,
Let there be no mistake,
Ill be watching you.

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Verlag
Crown Pub
Erscheinungsdatum
1998
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0609602403
ISBN 13 
9780609602409
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
358
Kontakt zum Hersteller
CROWN
https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/

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