New York rule number 1: Don't make eye contact....
Samantha Leiffer has a self-centered self-help guru for a mother, a cadre of off-kilter Greenwich Village pals, and an ambisexually-cheating ex-boyfriend. She doesn't need more grief. Then she spies two people dumping a dubious-looking ice chest into the Hudson River, and she has a chilling hunch about what's inside.
Not being the kind of girl to let two psychos get away with murder, Sam sets out to unravel a mystery - and is soon being stalked by a sinister, shadowy figure who's wearing one-of-a-kind mirrored contact lenses.
Now, aided by a tough (but still very hot) detective, Sam is poking into some unsavory places, and finding out more creepy stuff than she ever wanted to know.
The heroine in this is beyond stupid. What's worse is the writer made her that way just to advance the story. You will be yelling "call the cops you stupid idiot". Seriously, who would believe that a woman being stalked by a sadistic murderer would take home evidence, go into dark scary places alone, not call them when a child she knew could become a victim, or drink too much and leave themselves vulnerable. And the narrator doesn't help it along at all. Maybe she wanted to yell at the heroine too, and had to hold herself back, which made her performance tight.