Wrong Question

One of my professors believed that a journalist should wait ten long seconds past his or her greatest fear before succumbing to it and fleeing the scene. I started to count. On the count of eight, I caught a new sound that I was not prepared for—whispers, tearful panting and then the sound of choking.

Bree-Ann Carver works in a satellite office, in Idaho. Her job as an intern for the New York Times is to write a blog about fictional murders. But her very first subscriber criticizes her efforts and then aggressively moves to take over her blog via his unsolicited input into her work. She knows he wants her to use his murder scenarios, but these sound like real-case murders that the police closed as accidents. If she posts even one of these dangerous scenarios, she is exposing herself to not only the real killer's wrath, but the police who closed the case as accidental death. Each time she refuses, her cyber bully sends her a chilling one liner: There will be consequences.

Ben Doublinth owns a garage and a rustic restaurant in rural Idaho. His email is identical to the blog's first subscriber. Bree-Ann has never shied away from confrontation. She asks Ben bluntly whether he is the cyber-bully. She expects his denial but that's not what she gets.