Little Black Book

Jess stood motionless in the doorway to her large walk-in closet, unaware of the melodic chirp outside her window. The glaring sunlight taunted her, reminding her of bright days gone by.

She eased her foot across the threshold, found she was holding her breath and let out a great sigh. Jess reached out her hand and ran it along the various shirts hanging there, each one casting an old memory. Tears welled in her eyes. She flung herself forward, into the clothes and wrapped her arms around the lifeless garments. She sobbed, hugging them tight.

How could he do this? How could he leave her alone? They’d had great plans. Now what would she do, she wondered, as she clutched her slightly protruding belly. She had no one. Only the tiny life growing inside.

Her face grew hot and red. She kicked and slapped at the clothes. She threw her fist at the wall, and lost her balance. She fell into the wall with a plunk, and slid to the floor pulling the clothes with her. Jess sat under the pile of clothes and continued to sob.

The sun was retreating when Jess moved from underneath the pile. Off balance, she reached for the wall and felt a slight gap. She leaned over to inspect the damage she assumed she had caused and found a small removable panel. She slowly removed the panel, her mind racing. She peered inside and found nothing more than a little black book.

The book was crafted from smooth leather, had rounded corners and was held closed by an elastic band. Her fingers played at the band but did not remove it from the book. Jess lifted the book and sniffed the leather.

She left the closet, sat on her bed and stared at the little black book. It could only be her husband’s. Why would he hide it from her? They had been happy, hadn’t they? The steely fingers of doubt gripped her brain. Maybe he hadn’t been as happy as she thought.

Just open it! Her mind screamed, but her hands trembled. At last she released the elastic closure and plopped open the book to a page marked with a black ribbon.

The writing was the familiar scrawl of her husband, but the lettering seemed to be some form of code. What the hell? Every page she turned to was filled with code. Why would he write in code? What could he possibly have to hide?

Jess rifled through the ivory pages. More code. She tossed the notebook on the bed and a small, bright yellow piece of paper slid from between the pages. It was a number. It looked like a phone number. Above the number were two words written by her husband, trust him.

Jess grabbed her phone, entered the digits and held her finger over the call button. She couldn’t move. What if... Never mind the what ifs, she decided, and pushed the button.

“Jessica Moore,” the gravelly voice answered. He sounded as if he had been expecting her call, he didn’t wait for a response but continued, “we need to meet. I’ll be in a silver sedan outside the food court at the mall in twenty minutes. Bring the book.” He hung up.

Jess sat motionless, staring into the distance, still clutching the phone to her ear. She hadn’t said a word. Should she go? She grabbed her keys. Of course she should go.

Outside the mall, several people were hurrying to their cars, bags in hand, anxious to get home with their newly acquired treasures. They were oblivious to Jess and the stout man standing in front of her. He was in no way fat, rather thick with muscle and could easily crush Jess’ neck if he chose to. She brushed away that thought and asked, “who are you?”

“You have the book?” His stare was hard, but not unkind.

“Why do you want the book?” She asked, her voice sounded unfamiliar to her own ears.

“Do you have it?”

“I do. What’s this all about?”

“Trust me,” he said.

Trust him. Her husband’s words ran through her mind. She did trust him, she decided and it surprised her, but she did.

“We have to move quickly,” he said. “This wasn’t the plan but it’ll have to do.”

He put his heavy hand on her shoulder and gently ushered her to his car. She felt compelled to follow his direction.

“Where are we going?” She asked as he climbed in the car beside her.

“There’s a bag in the back seat. Open it.”

She turned, found a satchel and lifted it into her lap. Brown leather with a clasp on top, it made her think of a doctor’s bag. She fumbled with the clasp, until it opened with a snap, and peered inside.

The bag contained several bundles of cash. She looked up, brows raised.

“It’s twenty thousand dollars,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“Mine? Why?” She didn’t expect an answer from the man. He hadn’t answered a single question yet.

“It’s for travel,” he said, “and whatever else you need.”

“I don’t understand.” Jess said, staring at the man.

“No,” he said, “But you will soon. I promise.” His gentle tone soothed her.

She had questions but he had no answers. It was frustrating, and yet a part of her found it exciting. They rode in silence. The pavement thump, thumped under the tires and lulled her to sleep.

Jess woke to the man nudging her shoulder. “It’s time,” he said.

She wiped at her eyes. She must have slept for hours. The first sleep she’d had since the news of the plane crash that had taken her husband from her.

“Where are we?” It looked like an airstrip for small planes. No, she shook her head. “I can’t,” hot tears welled in her eyes.

“I have to tell you something about your husband.” The man pulled a folder out from under the seat and handed it to her. “He was an agent for the Secret Intelligence Service. One of the best.”

“He was in insurance,” she said. Her mind raced, trying to take it in. “You mean like James Bond?” She almost laughed, but could not.

“Yes.” He wasn’t laughing either.

She opened the folder and saw a picture of her husband and a detailed dossier. None of this made sense.

“He couldn’t tell you,” he said. “For your own safety.” He paused. “Now I need the book.”

“What’s in the book?” She asked as she watched as a small plane landed on the strip.

“It’s details from the last case he worked on,” he said.

She started “What,” but he put up his hand to stop her.

“It doesn’t mater now.”

“There’s only one thing that matters, and that’s that you’re all safe.” He looked at her belly then looked out the window past her toward the small plane. “Your ride is here.”

“But,” she stammered.

He touched her arm. “Trust me.”

Jess waved to the man and entered the small plane reluctantly. Not even sure where she was heading or what the future held for her and her child.

She was lost in thought when she heard him. “Where to?” The pilot asked, and immediately her heart leapt. She would know that voice anywhere. Could it be? Yes, she rushed forward, her future looking bright after all.