WATCHERS by Dean R. Koontz

and fifteen years younger than the doctor. She was sunbathing on a lounge, her

eyes closed. Haines kissed her throat, startling her. Evidently, she knew him,

for she threw her arms around him, laughing.

Vince walked down the beach and back, then sat on the sand behind Haines and the

girl, with a pair of sunbathers interposed between them. He was not concerned

that Haines would notice him. The doctor seemed to have eyes only for choice

female anatomy. Besides, in spite of his size, Vince Nasco had a knack for

fading into the background.

Out on the bay, a tourist was taking a parachute ride, hanging high in the air

behind the towboat. Sun fell like an endless rain of gold doubloons on the sand

and the sea.

After twenty minutes, Haines kissed the girl on the lips, and on the slopes of

her breasts, then set off back the way he had come. The girl called out,

“Tonight at six!” And Haines said, “I’ll be there.”

Then Haines and Vince went for a pleasure drive. At first Vince thought Haines

had a destination in mind, but after a while it seemed they were just heading

aimlessly down the coast road, taking in the scenery. They passed Revolcadero

Beach and kept going, Haines in his white Mercedes, Vince following as far back

as he dared in his Ford.

Eventually they came to a scenic overlook, where Haines pulled off the road and

parked beside a car from which four garishly dressed tourists were emerging.

Vince parked, too, and Walked to the iron railing at the outer edge of the

escarpment, where there was a truly magnificent view of the coastline and of

waves breaking thunderously on the rocky shore more than a hundred feet below.

The tourists, in their parrot shirts and striped pants, finished exclaiming Over

the sights, took their last pictures, discarded their last bits of litter, and

departed, leaving Vince and Haines alone on the cliff. The only traffic on the

highway was an approaching black Trans Am. Vince was waiting for the car to

pass. Then he was going to take Haines by surprise.

Instead of going by, the Trans Am pulled off the road and parked beside Haines’s

Mercedes, and a gorgeous girl, about twenty-five, got out. She hurried to

Haines. She looked Mexican but with a measure of Chinese blood, very exotic. She

was wearing a white halter top and white shorts, and she had the best legs Vince

had ever seen. She and Haines moved farther along the railing, until they were

about forty feet from Vince, where they went into a clinch that made Vince

blush.

For the next few minutes, Vince edged along the railing toward them, leaning out

dangerously now and then, craning his neck to gawk down at the crashing waves

that threw water twenty feet into the air—saying “Whooo boy!” when a

particularly big breaker hit the craggy outcroppings of stone— trying to make it

look as if his movement in their direction was entirely innocent.

Though they had turned their backs to him, the breeze carried bits of their

conversation. The woman seemed worried that her husband might find out that

Haines was in town, and Haines was pushing her to make up her mind about

tomorrow night. The guy was shameless.

The highway cleared of traffic again, and Vince decided he might not get another

opportunity to nail Haines. He closed the last few feet between him and the

girl, grabbed her by the nape of the neck and the belt of her shorts, plucked

her off the ground, and threw her over the railing. Screaming, she plummeted

toward the rocks below.

It happened so fast that Haines didn’t even have time to react. The instant the

woman was airborne, Vince turned on the startled doctor and punched him in the

face, twice, splitting both his lips, breaking his nose, and knocking him

unconscious.

As Haines crumpled to the ground, the woman hit the rocks below, and Vince

received her gift even at that distance: Ssssnap.

He would have liked to lean over the railing to take a long look at her

shattered body on the rocks down there, but unfortunately he had no time to

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