23
A perk that comes with being one of the core wedding vendors: the wedding planner has shared a Google spreadsheet with me that includes the day’s timetable, the phone numbers of everyone important, and a very handy list of everybody’s room number.
I do a quick search for Maureen’s name, and there she is.
Name: Maureen Halim
Role: Maid of Honor
And thief, the voice in my head snarks snarkily.
Phone number: (626) 526-1755
Room Number: 317
My mouth sets into a grim line and I sling the duffel bag over one shoulder and walk briskly toward the staircase. Level 3. I pop my head out before walking out to the hallway, careful to make sure that there’s no one about. Luck’s on my side, and I hurry toward room 317. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I move fast, too fast to second-guess myself. There’s no time for second-guessing anyway, and if I freeze now, if I chicken out, then I’ll be caught with a bag full of stolen goods, and what good will that do anyone? So I walk, ignoring all of the panicky voices crowding my head, and before I know it, I’m here. Room 317.
Okay. Shit. Okay. I’m doing this. I really am. A day ago, the worst thing I’ve ever done was—well, it was probably breaking up with Nathan. And now, I’ve (1) accidentally killed someone, (2) hidden the dead body, and (3) carried around over two million dollars’ worth of stolen goods.
Maureen must be with Jacqueline, so the room should be empty, but just in case, I knock on the door. “Hello?” I call out. “Room service.” Wait two seconds. Knock again. Check the hallway once more. No one about. I slide the master key card out of my pocket and tap it against the door lock. A little green light blinks, and the lock opens with a whirr. Here goes nothing. I grab the door handle and go inside Maureen’s room.
Maureen’s room is a junior suite, with a living room and a separate bedroom. Okay, if I were a dirty, traitorous thief of a maid of honor, where would I hide a bag full of stolen goods that my dirty, traitorous, thieving hands grabbed from my best friend?
Bedroom for sure.
I hurry inside the bedroom and look around. Under the very tall four poster bed? Too obvious. Inside the closet? I open the closet and study it. The shelves go all the way up to the ceiling, which is stupid because no one could reach all the way up there. I can’t even see what’s on the top shelf—
Which makes it the perfect hiding spot. I grab a chair from the writing desk, drag it across the room, and climb up on top of it. As I straighten up, I wobble and for a terrifying second, almost fall off the chair with the heavy duffel bag, but I manage to grab one of the shelves for balance. I hoist the duffel bag over my head and push it as deep as I can, then hop off the chair. I look up, and with satisfaction, confirm that I can’t see the duffel bag from my vantage point. Not even when I go on my tiptoes. The top shelf is way too high.
Just as I finish putting the chair back at the desk, I hear the worst sound in the world. The front-door lock whirring open. A split second later, the door clicks open, and someone bustles in. My mind short-circuits, and for a precious moment, I just stand there, frozen, like a hamster who knows it’s about to get spotted by the hawk. Then my instincts kick in and I hurry—but where to? I look around me frantically. The closet I just hid the bag in? No, it’s filled with shimmery dresses and it’s likely that Maureen might need something from it. The bathroom? The—
The bed!
I leap onto the floor on the far side of the room just as the bedroom door is flung open. I lie down on the carpeted floor and as the person walks in, I roll under the bed. Luckily, Maureen is apparently too distraught to hear any small noises I make as I slither under the bed. She’s sniffling loudly, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The bed creaks and sags slightly as she sits down and sobs. What the hell is going on? If I didn’t know Maureen was a dirty thieving liar, I would be feeling really bad for her right now. In fact, I am feeling bad for her. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to listen to those sobs and not feel the tiniest bit bad.
As silently as I can, I pull Ah Guan’s phone out of my pocket and switch it to Silent mode. Just in case she—
And just as I think that, she does call him. Thank god for prescience. I clasp the phone to my chest, unable to bear watching her face coming up on the screen. When it goes to voicemail, Maureen utters a little cry and flings her phone across the room, where it hits the wall and thunks onto the floor. Uh-oh.
This is where she goes to pick it up and notices a whole other human in the room with her.
But she doesn’t. She just stays there, crying for what feels like an entire hour but is in fact only two minutes. I know, because I stare at Ah Guan’s phone the whole time. Then she goes to the bathroom, probably to wash her face. Should I take this chance to leave? But even as I think that, Maureen comes out of the bathroom and swipes her phone from the floor. I freeze, but she doesn’t spot me. Her feet remain there for a while, unmoving, and I’m wondering what the heck she’s doing when I realize she’s either making a call or typing a text message. Sure enough, when I check Ah Guan’s phone, there’s a new text.
Maureen [2:15PM]: Don’t know y ur not picking up the phone, but everything better be ready. I’m gonna ask them to check the photographer’s room.
Check the photographer’s room. The photographer’s room. THE PHOTOGRAPHER’S ROOM WHERE AH GUAN’S CORPSE IS. Every single cell in my body shatters into panicky shrieks, and it takes all of my will to stop myself from leaping out from under the bed and choking her. Somehow, I manage to stay still until she leaves the bedroom. Moments later, I hear the front door slam shut. I slide out from under the bed immediately and call Ma. One ring. Two rings. Come on, Ma.
“Hallo?”
Thank. God. I have never been so grateful to hear her voice in my life. “Ma, are you still in my room?”
“Iya, of course. I cut mangoes and make more tea, your aunties all eating—”
Mangoes? Where did she get—never mind. I shake my head. “Ma, listen, you guys need to get rid of the body now. Maureen’s going to tell them to search my room for the tea ceremony gifts. I’ll come back—” My phone beeps with an incoming call. It’s Jacqueline. Shit. Maureen’s even faster than I thought. “I can’t come back. I’m being called by the bride, probably to go to her room.”
“Okay, no worry, we will get rid of body, no problem. You go to bride’s room, you settle everything, we settle body, no worry.”
“Okay . . .” She’s sounding very confident for someone who’s just been told at the last minute to hide a whole human corpse. “Um, where are you going to take him?”
“Aiya, you don’t worry, we got plan. Okay bye-bye, we going to hide Ah Guan now, okay, bye, love you, bye.”
The call cuts off and I accept Jacqueline’s incoming call.
“Hello? Meddelin?” Her voice is frantic, the edges all shrill and brittle, ready to break. “Could you—um, could you come to my room now? Please?”
“Hey, yeah, sure.” I swallow and say, “Everything okay?”
“Uh-huh!” she says, even shriller than before. “Just come to my room now, okay?”
I close my eyes, my stomach plummeting. So Maureen’s really gone through with it. Jacqueline is probably being falsely cheerful to make sure I don’t get scared away. “I’ll be right there.”
“Great!”
Deep breath. Even though I’ve gotten rid of the stolen goods, as I sneak out of Maureen’s room and walk down the hallway toward the bridal suite, I can’t help feeling like I’m walking straight into a trap. Outside the bridal suite, I pause to gather myself. My breath keeps catching, and then I have to focus to keep inhaling and exhaling. Remember, you don’t actually know that there’s anything wrong. Right. For all I know, I’m here to do the family portrait or whatever. Cool. I grasp my camera protectively and nearly drop it, my palms are so sweaty. I wipe them on my pants and knock at the door.
The bridal suite is filled with people, except this time the people aren’t wispy bridesmaids dressed in pastels but stern-looking men in security uniforms. One of these stern-looking men opens the door, and glares down at me as I walk in, making me feel once again like a hamster, this time crawling into a hawk’s nest.
I smile up at him and say, “Hi, I’m here for the family portraits.” I wave my camera up at him.
His upper lip curls up in contempt, and he takes my arm. I look at his meaty hand on my upper arm. I look back at him.
“Could you not do that?” I try to pull my arm away, but he only tightens his grip.
“Don’t think you can sneak away, thief—”
“Rob!” Nathan strides out of the bedroom and hurries toward us. “Stop that. Let her go.”
“But, sir, she’s the—”
“We don’t know anything yet,” Nathan says. His voice turns low and dangerous, his eyes narrowing at the security guard. “Let go of her arm.”
With one last scowl at me, Rob releases my arm. I rub at it gingerly. I swear my entire head is on fire. I’ve never been manhandled like that before. It happened so fast.
“Meddy, glad you’re here,” Nathan says. “I’m sorry about Rob.”
“What’s going on?” I follow him to one side, away from the crowd of security guards stomping all over the beautiful living room. “Where are all the bridesmaids?”
“They’ve been asked to go back to their rooms. The bride didn’t want them finding out.”
“Finding out about what?”
Nathan exhales. “The tea ceremony gifts—all those watches and jewelry and cash—have gone missing.”
I manage a small gasp. Let my mouth drop open, my eyes widen, my brows rise. Do I look genuinely surprised?
Nathan takes my hand, seems to remember where we are, and drops it. With another sigh, he says, “And the maid of honor claims you were the one who took them.”
“What?” Am I hitting the right mix of shock and anger? Should I even be angry? Or just shocked? God, I am so bad at this. I need to stop second-guessing myself. Yes, I should definitely be mad. “Why would she think that?”
He shakes his head. “She says you were the one helping her carry the box back to the room and you saw the safe code.” He lowers his voice. “Look, Meddy, obviously I don’t believe a word of it, I mean, Christ. But she’s pushing for them to search your room, and I need to follow protocol—”
“I understand,” I say, quickly. It pains me to see his face so tortured. It’s obvious he hates himself for having to tell me these things. “It’s totally fine. I’m okay with my room being checked.” As long as my mom and aunts manage to get the body out beforehand. I should probably give them more time.
“Are you sure?” Nathan’s eyes search mine, and his are filled with so many unspoken things. Worry, anger, but most of all, need. Seeing it sparks the need churning deep inside me, and god, I can’t believe we’re here in this moment and I can’t even touch him because of all these damn security guards. Well, and the thieving accusation against me. Keep it in your pants, Meddy. Now is so not the time. I tear my gaze away.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Right. Let’s go inside.”
I steel myself as Nathan leads me into the master bedroom. Inside, it’s worse than I imagined. Or rather, it’s just as I imagined, but worse because now it’s real. I’m actually standing here, witnessing the fallout of Maureen’s crime.
Jacqueline is sitting at the foot of the bed in a fluffy haze of white silk and ruffles, and she’s crying. Maureen sits next to her, a protective arm around Jacqueline’s pale shoulders, handing her more tissues. Tom’s furiously tapping on his phone at the bay window, and both sets of parents are there. Mr. Sutopo is snapping at someone on the phone, and Mrs. Sutopo is snapping at someone else on her phone, and Jacqueline’s parents are arguing with each other—“You should’ve come in here to make sure everything’s fine after the tea ceremony.” “Me? YOU should’ve done that! What were you doing?”
It’s complete and utter chaos, and everything inside me squeaks to run the hell out. But Nathan’s hand is on my back, and as if he can read my thoughts, he gives me a reassuring pat.
At that moment, Jacqueline glances up. “Meddy!” she cries, standing up in a rush. She trips over her dress and would have fallen if Maureen hadn’t caught her. Maureen shoots me a glare as Jacqueline hurries over and clasps my hands. Her hands are cold and trembly.
“Meddy,” she says, her gaze boring into mine. “Meddy, Meddy, please tell me the truth—” Her voice breaks in a sob.
Mr. Sutopo strides toward us and shouts, “There’s the thief!”
“No!” Nathan says. “Calm down please, everybody. Let’s hear what Meddy—Meddelin has to say.”
The room goes silent, all eyes on me. Jacqueline takes in a shaky breath and says in a broken whisper, “Did you take the tea ceremony gifts?”
“No.” The word slides out easily.
The room collapses in a collective sigh, then everyone reacts at the same time.
Maureen: “She’s lying!”
Mr. Sutopo: “Of course she’d say that.”
Tom: “Come on, let’s just call the cops.”
Jacqueline stares at me through her tears. “Really? They’ve gone missing, Meddy, and I don’t know—”
“I didn’t take them.” My voice comes out solid. I squeeze her hands, hoping to give myself strength, and then let my gaze travel to Maureen. “She was the last one with them. I only helped to bring them here, but I left them with her.” It’s a strange thing, accusing someone else of a crime. Even though I know for a fact that Maureen was the culprit, even though she wants to frame me for it, it still doesn’t feel great. I don’t feel vindicated or anything; I just feel shitty. My insides squirm as if they’re trying to crawl out of my skin, especially when Jacqueline utters a choked sob and glances at Maureen. The look on Maureen’s face is equal parts fear, anger, and something else I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s painful to see.
“It wasn’t me,” Maureen cries. “C’mon, Jackie O, you know me, I would never! Search her room; she’s probably stashed them there.”
Jacqueline turns back toward me, her expression apologetic but desperate. “I—is that okay, Meddy? I hate to do it, but . . .”
I lift my chin and meet her gaze. “That’s fine. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Aside from the dead body, that is, but I’m counting on my family to take care of that part.