Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope
“Funny thing,” he said.
He pushed the drawer shut with his hip.
“A woman called the desk this morning.
Wanted your room number.
Wouldn’t leave a name.”
“What did she sound like?”
“Like she’s used to getting what she asks for.” He picked the screwdriver back up.
“I told her I’d have to check.”