Security(10)

Such behavior breeds suspicion that emotional trauma resides in those memories, and therefore, leaving them alone is the proper approach if one wishes Tessa to relax her defenses and allow one to love her. But her efforts now to stifle laughter, combined with Brian’s helpless laughter, added to Justin’s and Jules’s looking up from the dishwasher and performing the same addition as I am, arriving at the same sum as I have and sharing a glance of excitement at Tessa’s odd mixture of perfect ease and paralytic unease with this young man—these phenomena put together suggest that Tessa’s upbringing in the foster system included periods of great happiness. Her refusal to discuss them could be indicative of a desire to keep those memories closed off and sacred—a place she can go where no one can follow her.

In the entryway to Room 1516, Vivica gives a final daub with her rag. She pumps her fist in the air and gives the conquered stain a smug middle finger. Behind her and around the corner and down the hall, the cleaning closet door folds open. The Killer steps out of the secret elevator, onto the fifteenth floor.





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Vivica reaches deep into her apron and pulls out a miniature hair dryer. She stuffs the bloodstained rag into her apron pocket, does likewise with the carpet cleaner—the bottle’s handle overhangs the pocket like a baby kangaroo innocently surveying its surroundings—and tips onto all fours to plug the hair dryer into the nearest outlet. She aims the nozzle and turns it on “High.” Only when the carpet is dry can a stain--fighter tell if any discoloration remains, if her enemy has been truly vanquished. This is the final step of Vivica’s stain--fighting procedure. Tessa once told Vivica she should patent the process and teach classes. Tessa wasn’t kidding. Vivica is petite and thin, her dark hair always in a tight bun. The errant gray strands in her hair emphasize how lineless and youthful her face is.

The Killer is passing the main elevator. He turns left. His feet are fluid, silent. The hair dryer is loud.

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Tessa introduces Brian to Jules and Justin. Handshakes. A discussion takes place. Pointing and gesturing at Tessa’s hand. Justin and Brian agreeing on something. Jules pointing to herself and offering an alternative. Tessa agreeing with Jules. Brian rolls his eyes and throws up his hands, but good-naturedly. Justin and Jules laugh. Tessa succeeds at not laughing, again, barely. Jules grabs the first aid kit from its special cabinet on the wall. She studied nursing but found she disliked the hours. She and Tessa leave the kitchen. Brian watches Tessa leave, his expression that of a stupid, forlorn puppy. He asks Justin a question and squats to the dishwasher’s controls. Justin produces a toolbox from a stainless steel cabinet beside the walk-in refrigerator. Brian’s head is no longer visible. High-capacity dishwashers are mounted on stainless steel countertops, to make loading more ergonomic. Brian’s head is underneath the countertop. It would be unfortunate if the dishwasher crushed Brian’s pretty-boy smile. Justin rifles through the toolbox and passes a flashlight to Brian’s protruding hand.

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The Killer stands behind Vivica. He points his knife at the back of her neck. He moves it to the space behind her heart. He watches his knife like a man under hypnosis. Vivica’s from El Salvador. She survived the upheaval there and came to America. She stares at the drying carpet like the mere possibility of remaining discoloration is the military faction that cracked her country in two. She shuts off the hair dryer and mutters in Spanish with an El Salvadoran accent, cursing the electrician she thinks cut himself there. But that is not what happened. What happened is: a member of my team, Twombley, escaped the twentieth floor. The Killer chased him onto the fifteenth floor and caught him at the entryway to Room 1516, where Twombley was fumbling with a card key. The card key worked, but too late. The Killer grabbed Twombley, dragged him to the bathroom of Room 1516, wrestled him into the tub, and stabbed him. I don’t know how many times. I lost count in the thirties; I was distracted. As the Killer left Room 1516, his pant cuff dripped onto the carpet. Thus the blood. Now—



Vivica unplugs the hair dryer and strokes the carpet as if it were a cranky toddler’s hot head: There, see, isn’t it easier if you behave? She probably feels lucky she found the blood when it was fresh, at five fifteen. It is now ten minutes to seven. She winds the cord around the hair dryer. She’s turning around as she does it—she is fifty--seven years old, married thirty--six years, four children, seven grandchildren; one has MS, and Vivica runs a half marathon every spring, fund--raising for a cure—but the Killer is not there. She walks toward the cleaning closet to throw away the rubber gloves she used, in compliance with OSHA protocol. Delores forwarded the joke about OSHA and Henri to the entire housekeeping crew. It made the housekeeping crew like and feel loyal toward Tessa, and also motivated them to comply with the protocol. Tessa’s a genius.

Vivica opens the cleaning closet. The Killer is not there. The shelves are in place. The hallway is empt—The Killer comes down the hallway behind Vivica as she peels off her gloves and bags them in plastic. He was sitting on the bed in Room 1512. He has a card key that unlocks every guest room in the hotel, except Room 1802, the deluxe penthouse. The Killer doesn’t know his card key won’t unlock Room 1802. The Killer stole his card key from Twombley, whose blood Vivica just finished cleaning out of the carpet. There are only two people with card keys that access Room 1802.