One Day After the Flight
Grabbing Trent’s key card and some rubber gloves from the box I had gotten at Walmart, I slipped out my door and down two to his.
The latch opened easily and I was in. His curtains were open, his room also overlooking the courtyard. I knew I couldn’t dare turn a lamp on or go near the window, just in case, but the light coming in from outside gave me just enough to see by. Going into his bathroom, I grabbed his razor and a small pair of scissors men used for sideburns off the sink counter and slipped them carefully into a pocket, then found his suitcase open in the main room. It was one of those fancy ones that had a bunch of little pockets for different things. Perfect.
Looking in his closet, I noticed a row of suit coats lined up and identified the one he wore that day. It had an inside breast pocket that was just what I was looking for.
Sitting on a shelf in his closet, there was a pile of monogrammed handkerchiefs, all crisp and white with little TJMs stamped on each. Although I worried he might notice one missing, I couldn’t help it. I had to take one. I had a feeling it would come in handy for me, and he would likely either be pissed at his assistant for not packing enough or think a housekeeper stole one.
Peeking back in the bathroom, I was just about to leave when I noticed a towel on the floor. Picking it up to see if there were any hairs on it that might be useful to me, I saw it had a wet spot right in the middle, and suddenly, I knew. Hesitantly, I brought it to my nose. Semen. I was familiar with that smell. He must have jacked off before he went to the party and used the towel to wipe himself. I had seen Glenn do the same. Holy shit, the perfect item I hadn’t even banked on. My plan just got more airtight.
Taking the towel, scissors, and razor back to Stephanie’s room, I cut a little bit of Stephanie’s hair and then pulled some of mine out from the root and set those aside.
I grabbed a pair of Stephanie’s underwear and a pair of mine and smeared the crotch of each into the wet spot on the towel I had brought with me. That would plant his DNA there. Peeking out my window again, I saw that Trent was still telling what looked like an over-the-top story—laughing and clapping someone on the back.
Taking everything back to Trent’s room, I returned the towel to exactly where I’d found it on the floor, and slipped my underwear and Stephanie’s into the breast pocket of the coat he had worn that day. Knowing guys like him, he wouldn’t wear the same thing twice and would never know it was there until the police did.
I took the hair I had pulled from my own head and the hair from Stephanie’s and slipped the strands into a pocket in his suitcase that didn’t look like it was used for anything.
Taking the tiny scissors, I braced myself for a bit of pain and punctured my finger with the blade, wincing but adding a good amount of my blood to a different side pocket in the suitcase. I patted the scissors dry so that he wouldn’t notice but a little DNA would hopefully remain, returned them to their spot, and glanced around for anything else.
On the desk was a stack of papers, and I drifted over, squinting in the growing darkness to make them out. On top was an itinerary, printed on NBC Atlanta letterhead and signed by some secretary.
“Details for your flight,” it said. “Have a safe trip—Mary.”
Listed below were his outbound and inbound flights from Atlanta. Quickly, I memorized his airline, flight number, and departure time for Saturday back to Atlanta. That would save me from having to try to track him at the airport. I could use Stephanie’s credit card to buy the ticket. After all, I needed that paper trail so that it looked like she had gone back to Atlanta with him. Grinning with my finds and my good smarts, I departed Trent’s room for good.
My next order of business was to get Stephanie out of here by cover of darkness. I waited and watched the cocktail party until it emptied completely out, people heading out to dinner. When I was sure everyone was gone and I saw only the waiters and waitresses cleaning up, I made my move, removing the bags of melting ice and dumping them out, zipping the suitcase with the weights in it shut, and bracing myself for the walk ahead.
There wasn’t a soul on the elevator on the way down, and I only passed one couple in the hallway of the first floor as I went to the back exit. Moving into the perfect San Diego night air, I wheeled Stephanie to the minivan with the wheelchair lift. That had been my most brilliant calculation yet. I had known there was no way I was going to be able to lift her, and that was even without the weights, and I was proud of myself for thinking ahead and requesting it from the car rental agency.
With the push of a button, the side doors of the minivan opened and a lift lowered to the ground with the grind of mechanical gears. Rolling the suitcase onto it, I needed only to push another button, and up she went into the van. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I punched in the address for the hidden lagoon spot on the coast and steered that way.
I was nervous I would see someone there, some nature lover out at night or a couple making out on the bridge, but it was pitch-black with no sound but the nearby ocean waves as I parked. Using my cell phone flashlight, I lowered Stephanie with the lift and rolled the suitcase toward the bridge.
It was so quiet and empty that I felt a prickle up my spine as I got closer. What if someone jumped me and I got hurt? I shuddered but kept putting one foot in front of the other.
The bridge had a railing, but the wooden slats didn’t reach the ground—there was a big open space under it. I waved the flashlight at the water and tried to assess the depth. It was a lagoon off the main part of the coast and looked deep to me. It would have to do.
Thank God the suitcase, laid on its side, would slip under the handrail part of the bridge fairly easily. There was no way I could have hoisted it up and thrown it over.
As I manipulated the suitcase into place, I thought of one final coup de grâce. If Stephanie were ever found, it was not going to be me to take the fall. Trent’s key card and his monogrammed handkerchief were still in my pocket. Taking them out, I found a crack in the wooden slats of the bridge and wedged them in there. Just enough that someone really looking would see, not enough that anyone would notice even in daylight.
Then I put my foot on the suitcase and got ready to push. For a moment, I felt remorse, guilt, even a touch of sadness. But then I remembered how my life was about to start. An eye for an eye. I needed to get rid of this woman to become the woman I was destined to be. And did I feel bad? Sure, a little, but she was a stranger on a plane, not a friend.
“Goodbye,” I whispered to the darkness. It took multiple shoves and kicks to move the suitcase, which must have weighed close to three hundred pounds at that point, but finally it fell into the lagoon with a giant splash and sank to the bottom.
Hurrying back to the minivan, I got in, shivering not from cold but from adrenaline. For a moment, I put my head on the steering wheel and my body shook reflexively, but I had no time to linger. I had things to do.
Back to Walmart I went, and this time I bought the blackest hair dye I could. I would need that soon. Returning to my original motel room, I left the hair dye on the table, organized my remaining clothes, and put them in a pile on the bed. I looked at the red flannel shirt I had stolen from Glenn. No need for that anymore. I was going places where it was warm now, and I wanted every ounce of him out of my life, so I stuffed the shirt into my smaller rolling suitcase, put the suitcase in the minivan, and found an old dumpster a block down to pitch the suitcase and the shirt inside it.
Pulling into a convenience store parking lot with an ATM that was mostly in a dark shadowy spot, I took Stephanie’s debit card out of her purse, checked the password on my list, and inserted the card. Her balance was $5,458.23. Jeez—who keeps that kind of money in a checking account? With my eyes gleaming, I withdrew the maximum it would let me in one sitting, $3,000, and stuffed it into her purse. By the next day I would have $18,000 of her money.
Checking Stephanie’s Apple Watch, which was now on my wrist, I saw it was getting to be about the time some of the people who had gone to dinner would be returning. I needed to get back.
Driving to the hotel and slipping in the side door, I took the stairs this time to avoid the elevator and cautiously peeked out at the sixth floor, confirming it was empty before walking quickly to my room.
Thank goodness, the worst of it was over now. I had planted evidence in Trent’s room and at the site where Stephanie’s body was, and I had done the biggest thing of all: disposed of her. The room felt so much airier, lighter, without her presence, and I twirled around in a circle, admiring myself in the mirror. I wished I could have all of Stephanie’s clothes from back in Wisconsin. I bet her closet was amazing. I pictured her living in a mansion with crystal chandeliers and a plush red couch, wineglasses in a glass cabinet, and a fridge full of fancy and expensive organic foods. But I could never go back to Madison, could never go anywhere near there. I needed to head south, to Mexico. I would have to live off the clothes she had brought for the conference for now.
Turning on the TV and flipping channels, I decided to treat myself to some more items from the hotel fridge and mixed up a rum and coke, then ate the popcorn and mixed nuts they had. Changing into Stephanie’s workout clothes again for bed, I crawled under the sheets and decided to take one of her Ambien to make sure I slept. I had tried it just a few times at Glenn’s place and knew that it was good when needed.
Before it fully kicked in, I got up and made sure the DO NOT DISTURB sign remained and that the extra lock was in place. Not like her, I thought with a sardonic chuckle. Then I jotted down my plan for the next day: “Western Union, pack up and leave the hotel, check back into the motel, start dropping clues via text.” With my next moves spinning in my head, I fell asleep soundly for the first time in months.