The Wrong Room

Tessa cried on top of her bed, swimming in a sea of dollar bills, all thirty-two of them—her life’s fortune. Her husband had been adamant about her quitting her job and moving across country with him. Two months ago, she finally agreed. He promptly left a few weeks ago, leaving her confused and stranded in a strange city.

Picking herself up, she looked around the cheap hotel room to better grasp her situation. She caught a glimpse of herself staring back at her from the mirror. Black streaks of mascara streamed down her face. Jeffery had left without so much as a goodbye. Just yelling and dishes flying across the apartment he had terminated the lease on. Something had changed with him once she arrived in California. He had become angered more easily. Before, their fights revolved around their time apart. Afterward, just being together seemed to set him off.

Alone and crying in a small hotel room with thirty-two dollars to her name, she realized she felt the freest she had in months. No more walking on eggshells, wondering if the next thing she said would be the wrong thing. That constant stress had begun to make her feel ill. Today’s stress was different, like how after tonight she’d be on the street homeless, but that was tomorrow’s problem. Here, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Tessa went to turn on the television to drown out the silence. She didn’t trust herself to be alone with her thoughts. But she couldn’t find the remote. She looked high and low in that hotel room. It wasn’t under the bed, by the TV, in the nightstand. She rummaged through the dresser, feeling something wedged in its track. She pulled on it. It wasn’t the remote. It was too soft and malleable. Her curiosity made her keep pulling, certain she was going to reveal a previous guest’s socks. But it was too rigid for that.

The thing released from its wooden prison. Tessa fell back with a thump as she studied the little black book in her hand. An odd thing to hide in a hotel room. She thumbed through it, finding names and dates within it. They were mostly men’s names written by the hand of a woman. Tessa turned her nose up at it, clutching it between her finger and her thumb. A few pages turned, revealing another name—Jeffery’s. It was dated the day before he left.

Anger swelled within Tessa. Had he been seeing another woman behind her back? She wanted to confront him, even though she hadn’t spoken to him since they separated. She picked up the hotel phone and dialed his cellphone. Disconnected. The scoundrel had shut off his phone so she couldn’t call him. Not to be dismayed, she called his best friend Isaac. The one who had convinced Jeffery to move to California in the first place. Disconnected.

Strange. As a last-ditch effort, she called Jeffery’s parents in Ohio. The conversation was sure to be awkward after the separation, but his parents had always liked her. She was sure they’d appreciate her trying to make sure their son was okay.

The conversation was pleasant. Almost eerily so. His mother was giddy, asking how she liked California and if she and Jeffery were having a good time. He hadn’t told them about the separation. Then his mother revealed she hadn’t spoken to him since the day Tessa had last seen him. Tessa politely thanked them for their time, but there was a knot in her stomach. Something had happened to Jeffery. He had never gone that long without calling home. He spoke to them almost every evening. His parents had assumed he was busy helping Tessa settle in, but if he wasn’t with her, where was he?

Tessa reached for the little black book, looking for clues. It was too much of a coincidence for it to have been written in the day before Jeffery disappeared. She looked through the names within it. They ran the gamut from average people to those she recognized from the news. Among them was another name she recognized. Isaac was listed as well, dated two days before Jeffery.

With both of their phones disconnected, she couldn’t help but feel it was connected to the book. She didn’t know Isaac very well, so she couldn’t call around to ask about him. She wasn’t sure if he had any friends outside of Jeffery. He always seemed shady. It was one of things she and Jeffery often fought about. He was always spending absurd amounts of time with him. Worry swept in around Tessa. What if Isaac had gotten Jefferey into something?

Nothing else in the book was revealing. Just more names and dates. No contact information. No evidence of ownership of the book.

Tessa pulled herself together. She could still use the names she recognized. Some were business owners and local politicians. After spending years working her way up as a reporter for the regional newspaper in her hometown, she was accustomed to talking to such people. Most were willing to cooperate if they were threatened with a scandal.

She got the number for the city council from the hotel and spoke to the secretary of one of the politicians. She was a friendly lady. Tessa claimed to still be a reporter working on a story about a fundraiser for children that supposedly happened yesterday. She made up the event for the day the councilman had been listed in the book and asked if he had been in attendance. From experience, she knew she couldn’t ask about his schedule directly. The secretary grew quiet. There was rustling on the other end.

“What do you know?” A heavy voice breathed out a whisper. At just the mention of the date, the politician had taken the call directly.

“I was just calling to see if you attended the fundraiser for children yesterday,” Tessa said.

“Bull crap. There was no fundraiser yesterday. And I don’t talk to reporters.”

“I have a little black notebook here with your name and a date marked for it.”

“I thought that was you. After this, we’re done. You’ll have your money in twenty minutes.”

The phone went silent. The notebook did hold significance. Whoever had written it held power. She wished she knew what Jeffery had gotten himself mixed up in. Whatever it was, he must have been in deep. She assumed it was why he had terminated the lease on their apartment. Maybe all this time it was really this which tore Jeffery away from her. She scoffed at the idea. Their relationship had always been far from perfect. It was why she was hesitant to leave her life behind for California. But she still cared for the man she had married.

Twenty minutes passed. Like clockwork, there was a knock at her door. Tessa didn’t open it. She looked through the peephole to see who had arrived. No one. Easing the door open, all she saw was a package at her feet.

She scooped up the package and hurried back inside. The whole situation made her nervous. All she wanted was to find out what happened to Jeffery. Now, she felt herself becoming involved. Having a mysterious person arrive at her door was too much. They knew where she was. She assumed whoever had written the book used that room regularly.

The package was the only thing she had gained from her conversation with the councilman. If he was to be believed, she knew what was inside—money. Pulling back the tape, money was what she found. A lot of it. Bands of hundreds were stacked neatly inside the box. A quick count revealed it to be twenty-grand. What kind of city councilman had that kind of money to just drop off at a door?

Tessa shoved the money back in the box along with the measly thirty-two of her own. She had to get out of that hotel room. With that kind of money, whatever it was had to be illegal and dangerous. She gathered her things and left out. As she walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. There wasn’t anyone in the hallway, but she still felt the need to hurry.

A man stood at the elevator. He looked to be waiting for it, but the button hadn’t been selected. He turned toward Tessa and grinned. Her sense of unease grew. He nodded toward the package.

“So, you’re Morelli’s bookkeeper?” the man asked as he pressed the button. “I still have two days. Here’s five large. Put it on the horse, Whisper. The odds are big enough, it’ll cover what I owe.”

He slipped her another stack of hundreds stuffed in an envelope and stepped into the elevator. Tessa could only look at it in her hand. Horse racing? That’s what this was about? No. Gambling. That wasn’t the Jeffery she knew. He never liked spending money on anything. Maybe that was because he was too busy trying to make more.

Tessa stuffed the money in the package with the rest and flipped open the notebook. On the date two days from now was a man’s name. She assumed the dates listed in the book were due dates when Morelli expected to get paid. The same as it had been for the councilman. That meant the day before Jeffery kicked her out, he owed a debt. A debt Tessa doubted he could pay.

The elevator dinged in front of her. She hadn’t brought herself to start it after the man had left. As the doors slid open, she saw a man in a dark jacket who kept in his hands in its deep pockets. His eyes locked on to Tessa. One of them was blackened, but it was healing. They then drifted toward the package. He bit half of his lower lip, chewing on it. The same little habit she had seen before. It was then she recognized him. Isaac.

“Where’s Jeffery?” she asked, nearly forcing him back into the elevator.

“Tessa?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter. What did you do with my husband?”

Isaac’s face fell. “Morelli is a cheat. We were winning big, but then he fixed that last race. We lost it all. He’s making me work off the debt, while he keeps Jeff hostage.”

“Then we have to get him back.”

“You don’t understand, Tess. Morelli is dangerous. The only way to get him back is two pay Morelli like twenty-three thousand dollars.”

Tessa thought for a second. She had enough to pay it off. Morelli didn’t know how she had acquired the money, or that it was supposed to be his. With it, she could get Jeffery back. But after everything, did she want him back? She squeezed the package—all the money she had in the world. It felt selfish. She wasn’t sure if she still loved Jeffery, but she couldn’t leave him hostage at the hands of someone like Morelli.

She showed Isaac the package.

“Here’s twenty-five-thousand… and thirty-two dollars.”