Do Not Disturb

by Freida McFadden

And that’s when something falls out of the pile of shirts that was already in the drawer. It’s a phone. I pick it up and turn it over in my hand. It’s a burner phone. One of those phones you get when you don’t want somebody to track you. What the hell is my wife doing with a burner phone? I flip it open. I notice a bunch of missed calls on the screen. I think about calling the number back, but I don’t. I want to know what the deal is with this phone first, before I start calling a number and acting like an idiot. There are a bunch of text messages on the phone. All from the same number. I open up the most recent one: I can’t wait to see you. What the…? I sink onto the bed as I read through the text messages one by one. It gets much worse. She just went out. See you soon! Rob won’t be home till late. Come over. I can’t wait to get you naked. You’re all I can think about. Well, great. Claudia is messing around with another guy. Am I surprised? I don’t even know. Am I pissed off? Hell yes. How could she? How could she do something like that to me? To us? I knew she wasn’t happy with me, but what the hell? We could’ve talked it out. Marriage counseling or some shit like that.

Omg

I squeeze the phone, feeling it almost crack in my hand. I want to throw it across the room and watch it shatter. I know I shouldn’t. This is the only evidence I have that she’s been messing around on me. But the urge is almost too strong. And then the phone rings.

“Were you and Claudia close with Derek and Quinn?” “Claudia and Quinn were close.” I cough into my hand. “Well, I thought they were.” “Do you think Claudia could have hurt Quinn?” I frown. “Wait. Do you think Claudia might have been the one who stabbed Derek? And… done something to Quinn?” Deputy Dwyer folds his arms across his chest. “We’re just trying to explore every possibility.” “Oh,” I breathe. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense.” “Do you think she might have, Mr. Delaney? Do you think she’s capable of it?” I reach out and touch the scar on my hairline. The one that required five stitches in the emergency room. “Yes,” I say. “She’s capable of it.”

I had it all planned out perfectly yesterday. I had a two o’clock massage client. And as soon as I finished with her, I was going to head over to Quinn’s monstrosity of a house. Except I wasn’t going there to see my sister. Yes, it’s true. I’ve been sleeping with my sister’s husband for the last six months. I should probably use the past tense, since Derek will not be sleeping with me anymore—never again—given that he’s lying on a slab in the morgue. After she murdered him. I can’t even think about it. The sight of his dead body lying on the kitchen floor will be burned in my eyes forever. That bitch.

Gasp

Derek is superb in bed. Quinn never even mentioned that to me—she didn’t even appreciate it. I started sleeping with him because… Well, long story short, I hate my sister. Surprise, surprise. I didn’t always hate my sister. When our parents were alive and life was easy, we were close enough. But then they died—not just that, but they died on their way to Quinn’s stupid play. And they left us with nothing.

When I parked in the lot, the motel looked almost deserted. The lights were off in all the rooms. It looked like nobody had stayed there in years. For a moment, I thought I had made a mistake. Maybe Quinn hadn’t come here after all. But then I saw her bursting from the front door. She was dragging her luggage behind her, and there were tears in her eyes. She was making a quick getaway, that’s for sure. If I had shown up one minute later, I would have missed her entirely. The timing could not have been better. I dug around in my purse until I found Rob’s pocket knife. I left my purse behind and got out of the car, gripping the knife in my right hand. “Hi, Quinn!” I called out. She looked up at me in surprise. She never expected to see me again. But she didn’t look upset. Of course not. I’m her big sister. The one who always bails her out of trouble. She probably thought I was here to help. Ha. “Thank God, Claudia!” she sobbed. She started toward me and tried to embrace me, but I took a step back. She blinked, surprised by my rebuff.

“Claudia?” she said. “How could you?” I choked out. “How could you do that?” “He…” Her hands flew to her neck. “He was trying to choke me. I… I had to…” “Liar!” I hissed at her. “You couldn’t stand it that he liked me better.” “Claudia, what are you talking about?” “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” And then her eyes widened as she saw the knife in my right hand. She finally got it. She knew Derek was fooling around on her, but she never knew it was with me. But now, moments before her death, she knew. I wanted her to know. And then I plunged the knife into her abdomen and dug it in, the same way she did to him. Poetic justice.

Quinn’s body crumpled to the ground. My sister had always been petite, and in recent years she’s become downright skeletal—whereas my arms are taut and muscular from my work as a masseuse—so I easily heaved her limp body into my arms and lowered it into the open trunk of my car. It was only after slamming the trunk closed that I saw the light go on in the second floor of the motel. A witness. My stomach clenched at the idea that someone might have seen what I had just done. I shouldn’t have been so careless. I s...

So I went into the motel to get a room. There was no way there were more than one or two people staying there. I had to tie up the loose ends. And I needed to kill a little time anyway, since the police were still circling the area. I would take care of what I needed to take care of here, then by the time I left with Quinn’s body in the trunk, the police would have moved on. Except then Greta made me aware of one other witness I hadn’t thought about. The woman on t...

She flinches, her face turning pink. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry…” “It’s too late.” “No. No. Please…. You can’t…” She looks down at her phone, a pathetically hopeful expression on her face. “Nick will come. You won’t get away with it…” “No,” I say, “he won’t come.” Then I drop the bombshell on her. I reach into my purse with my free hand and pull out the phone I swiped from the front desk. “Because I have his phone.”

What little color she still had in her face drains away. She knows she’s screwed. I’ve got the knife and her husband’s phone and she’s got nothing. Nobody is coming for her. It’s all over for Rosalie Baxter.

For a moment, the world is a dizzying roller coaster. I wasn’t sure if I would have the bulk to do it, but somehow, I managed to topple her over, and then the two of us fall to the floor. There’s a loud cracking sound as her skull hits the floor. I don’t know if she’s still got the knife or not, but I’m not going to check. I reach out and run my fingernails down the side of her face. She screams. It’s been a while since I’ve cut them, I guess. She’s got to have the upper hand on me, because I’ve been rotting away in this room for the last several years so I’m weak as a kitten. But the adrenaline rush of almost being stabbed to death has given me back some strength. I don’t even think about it. I’m scratching and clawing at her with every fiber of my being. If she wants to kill me, I won’t make it easy for her. And I’m going to get plenty of her DNA under my fingernails so they’ll know it wasn’t Nick who did this to me. “Whoa! Jesus Christ, Rosie!” I pause for a breath and look up. Nick is standing over us, gawking at me. I look down at the mystery woman under me, and there’s blood all over her face. I think she might be unconscious. I roll off her, gasping for air.

“Nick,” I manage. “She… she was…” “I know.” His face is grim. “I saw her through the window in room 201. I saw the knife. I ran over here as fast as I could, but I thought I might be too late…” He looks down at the woman, out cold on the floor. “Little did I know, my wife is a ninja.” I start to laugh, but instead I burst into tears.

Nick stares at me for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. “I saw what you did to Greta,” he hisses at me. “And you tried to kill my wife. If you think I’m ever letting you leave this room except in handcuffs, you’re out of your mind.” Oh. He knows about the old lady. Damn. And now I hear the sirens, growing louder by the second. Nick is gripping the knife so hard, his knuckles are white. Just a short time ago, I was the one with a knife, and Rosalie was cowering in front of me. She lunged at me and took me down. But I can take one look at Nick and know that I won’t be able to do the same to him. He will absolutely kill me if I try to get up off the floor.

I come out of the house, I see they have jimmied open the trunk of my car. Deputy Scott Dwyer is standing there, right next to the trunk, and when it pops open, his face turns green. “Oh, Christ,” Scott says. “Where the hell is that ambulance?” I know what they have discovered in my trunk. I stop walking abruptly, surprising the officer whose hand is on my elbow, leading me to the police car. He stumbles and releases my arm. I sprint in the direction of my car. No, I won’t be able to get away. But I want to see. It’s Scott who jumps in front of me, just as another officer grabs me roughly by the arm. I always thought Scott was far too nice to be a cop, but at this moment, his eyes are like ice. He looks like he could strangle me with his bare hands.

“How could you?” he chokes out. “How could you do that to her? You…” I stare back at him. “Sorry, Scotty. You missed your chance with her.” His right hand balls into a fist. He wants to hit me. It says a lot about him that he doesn’t do it, even though I’m an easy target with my hands cuffed behind my back. He’s still a wuss. He won’t even do anything when he sees the girl he’s had a crush on for ten years bleeding to death in the trunk of a car.

“Is she breathing?” I ask. Scott just sneers at me. He nods at the officer holding my arm. “Take her away.” I start to ask again, but I feel my arm being jerked hard enough that my wrist feels like it might snap in two. I know the ans...

“I want to stay together,” he blurts out. I stare at him. “You do?” “Yeah.” He rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands, then looks back up at me. “I was miserable after our conversation earlier. I don’t want to live without you. Ever. I’m sad about… the way things are. With us. But I’m not giving up. I love you too much.” “Oh,” I say. “And,” he adds, “I think you still love me too.” My cheeks grow warm. “You’re right. I do. I really, really do.” He takes my hand in his. “I knew it.”

“Also,” I say, “I think this dining room would make a really great bedroom.” For the first time, maybe in years, I see his eyes light up. “I think so too.” And so we sit there for the next hour, holding hands, and making plans for the future.

And in one hour, we’re going to have a lovely dinner at Rosalie’s. Nick promised he’d save a table for us.

In the weeks after the incident, we finally got all the details, although it was mostly from reading them in the paper. The woman who showed up earlier in the night, Quinn Alexander, had just murdered her husband. She stabbed him in the belly, although there was significant evidence that she did it in self-defense. Nick told the police he saw bruises on her neck, and he assumed somebody had attacked her. Nick later ended up testifying in Quinn’s trial. But it turned out that the husband was sleeping with Quinn’s sister, Claudia Delaney. And when the sister—apparently already a bit mentally unstable—discovered the dead body, she had a complete breakdown. Claudia set about finding Quinn, then exacting revenge on her. She stabbed Quinn, then put her in the trunk of her car, intending to get rid of the dead body.

She tilts her head. “You look beautiful tonight, Rosalie. You’re glowing.” I roll my eyes. “My pregnancy glow?” “Pregnancy… love…” She reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. Her fingers are so frail and spidery. I can’t believe she survived being stabbed in her belly—Nick and I thought for sure she was a goner. But she told me she had survived much worse. “You and Nick are going to live happily ever after. I told you. I told you there was happiness in your future.” I remember when she said that to me. I let her tell my fortune, and she told me those exact words. And I laughed at the time, because I couldn’t imagine a happy future for myself. Yet here I am.

“I guess you really have a gift,” I say. “I will tell you a secret, Rosalie.” Her fingers linger on mine. “I cannot really read the future. Or the past. I am just an ordinary woman.” “Really.” There’s a note of sarcasm in my voice, but I’m a little surprised by her admission. Not that I ever believed in that stuff, but sometimes Greta did seem truly clairvoyant. After all, she predicted a happy ending for me and Nick when it seemed impossible. “Yes. It is true.” “Well.” I shrug. “It looks like your prediction about me and Nick came true after all.” “Yes. It did. Of course, I had to help it along.” “Help it along?” She hesitates as her eyes stare into mine. “Rosalie, I want you to know that I never had children. And I always thought of you like a daughter. I wanted you to be happy.” “Yes…” “Nick would have left you,” she says. “That girl, Christina… she was a vixen. She set her sights on him—she wanted him. And no offense, my dear, but you were not doing much to hold on to him. You were delivering him to her on a silver platter! She told me how she thought Nick would be better off without you.” My mouth falls open. I didn’t know about any of this. I had always assumed it was a fling—not that I asked for many details.

“So you see,” she says, “I had to do what I did.” I pull my hand away from hers. “What did you do?” “I saved your marriage!” “Greta…” I feel a cramping sensation in my lower abdomen. “What did you do?” Greta’s blue eyes are wide. “She deserved it. Look at what she did. Fooling around with a married man. I’m disappointed in Nick too, but I understand what he was going through. She had no excuse. Terrible person.” My stomach turns. “Greta, you didn’t…” “She barely felt a thing.” Greta strokes her long white hair. “I got the key from where Nick keeps them downstairs, and I let myself...

All these years, I had been scared Nick was the one who killed Christina Marsh. I should have known he would never do something like that. But I never dreamed Greta could have done it either. “I’ve done it before.” She says it casually, like she’s talking about going roller skating instead of committing a murder. “There was a woman at the carnival w...

I clasp a hand over my mouth. “Oh God…” “I was trying to get rid of the other one for you too,” she says. “Quinn. When she was downstairs, I looked through her bag, found out her real name. Then I said all the scary stuff about how she was in horrible danger. Left a few threatening messages for her in the Bible in the drawe...

“Rosalie.” She reaches for my hand again, but I yank it away. “Are you feeling poorly? You look so pale. It’s not the baby, is it?” “No, I…” But that cramp hits me again. Still, I’ve got an entire month to go. I’m not in labor. I’m just having a panic attack that a woman is dead because of me. “Greta, how could you do something like that?” She blinks at me. “I did it for you, Rosalie.” Her eyes darken. “If I hadn’t, you would have none of this! He would have left you. No restaurant,...

“You do not know how she spoke about you. Nick’s invalid wife. Frigid—won’t even touch him. He deserves better. That’s what she used to say.” Those Tarot cards were right all those years ago about my future. Death. Because Nick and I got married, a woman is dead. But he wasn’t the one who killed her. It was Greta. Greta reaches deep into the pocket of her long black wool coat. She pulls ou...

“I took this off the door of Room 201,” she says. “It’s time to open the room up again to guests. Let the past be the past.” I take the sign from her, but it drops from my fingers and flutters to the floor, the letters of “DO NOT DISTURB” staring up at me, looming before my eyes. I lean forward as my head spins. I get that cramping sensation one more time. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Greta killed a w...

“You do not look well, Rosalie.” She purses her lips. “Are you sure it’s not the baby? Should I fetch Nick?” “No, I…” But before I can protest, I feel this strange popping sensation inside me. I look down at the growing stain on my skirt. “Greta…” “Your water broke!” She claps her hands together. “How exciting! I’ll go get Nick.” I watch her run off to the restaurant to get my husband. My head is spinning. I’m about to have a baby. I’m in labor. But I’ve got to call the polic...

Where is my phone? Where did I put it? It seems like less than a minute later, Nick is dashing into the motel. His face is pale, but he’s grinning. “Greta said you’re in labor. She said your water broke. Are you okay?” “I’m okay, but…” I take a breath. “Nick, my phone…” “Don’t worry about your phone. I’ve got mine. Come on, the hospital bag is in my trunk.” “But I need to—” “Rosie, we have to go!” His eyes are shining. “Come on—let’s get you to the ...

“Where’s Greta?” I say. “She said she had to go. She ended up getting a flight late tonight and had to run, but she said to tell you that you’re going to be a wonderful mother.” I look up at him, my head throbbing. Another cramp seizes my lower abdomen. I’ve got to get to the hospital—he’s right. There’s no time to call the police now. And by the time I do, Greta will be out of the country. She planned it this way. She knew that if she told me, I would feel compelled to report her. She didn’t tell me until the last second for that reason. But she wanted me to know. She wanted me to know that everything I have is because of her. She’s right—Nick very well might have left me...

It was wrong that she murdered that woman. She should never have done it. But I can’t say I’m sorry. And at that moment, I decide. If w...