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“You have seventeen new voicemail messages,” was the first notification she’d gotten the moment she turned on her phone that she had left charging overnight while she went to sleep. Tamara’s phone died on her after it rang a few times while she was out late the night prior with Jack; the man she had been seeing for a few weeks. “Seventeen voicemails?” Thinking to herself in disbelief. She’d never gotten that many voicemails in one day. What was more shocking was realizing that they all came from the same phone number she hadn’t interacted with before. The voicemails came from a stranger. It’s now half past seven on a Saturday morning. Still in her silk floral sleepwear ensemble, she proceeded to the bathroom to freshen up quickly as she played the first voicemail on speaker. “Hi Tamara, please give me a call back at this number. It’s very important,” a female voice calmly said while emphasizing urgency at the same time. “That’s it? Could it be any clearer?” Thoughts ran through her head in confusion as she proceeded to the kitchen to prepare a light breakfast as she normally did each morning before playing the second voicemail. “Hi again. I’m sorry I didn’t provide you with more details. I just thought it’s better if we speak on the phone. I’ll wait for your call back.” It wasn’t exactly the first time Tamara had gotten calls from strangers, but seventeen voicemails from the same stranger? She couldn’t tell if it was a prank, or a scam. Her tea was ready. The toaster had just ejected two slices of golden-brown loaf bread, ready to spread some cream cheese on. “Not even a name, or what it’s about?” She didn’t sense any threat, if anything, she was curious and weirded out. Her call history showed that the first call came at just past nine the previous night. That was when her phone died. She had forgotten to charge it before going to work and didn’t notice the low battery before heading straight to a nearby steakhouse after work to meet with Jack. “You must be busy. Anyway, I truly hope you could call me back,” the next voicemail played as she poured tea into her cup. “My name’s Carla,” the voicemail continued, and a few similar ones followed after. Slowly sipping her tea, she stared through the blank space trying to remember if she knew anyone named Carla and soon realized that even if it was spelled with a C or K, “it doesn’t ring a bell,” she thought. She took her first bite of a lightly crisped toast with plain cream cheese melting over it, just the way she liked it. “Next voicemail,” her phone said, before playing the next message, “it’s me again. I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I think it’s best that you return my call the soonest you get this. I just feel that you’re the only person who would understand me, so I think that we seriously need to...” before it beeped and abruptly cut out. “Next voicemail: apologies, I must’ve accidentally hung up on you. I was saying that I think we seriously need to talk. You might think I’m a psycho for bombarding you with voicemails, but I feel that you and I are very much alike. We were both raised by single mothers, and although your father died when you were young, mine left us for another…” beeped and cut out, again. “How does she know about my family?” Tamara was obviously surprised, and more so, intrigued. “Sorry, I needed to charge my phone. I was saying that my father left us for another woman he’d gotten pregnant and chose them over me and my mother. On a lighter note, we both like silk pajamas and floral patterns, too. It’s very feminine, just like the two of us.” Tamara was only increasingly becoming uncomfortable. “This is getting weirder,” she thought, while looking at the pajamas she was wearing that Carla perfectly described, including its fabric. “We both prefer organic tea and golden-brown toast with plain cream cheese eaten as a single piece like a pizza rather than as a sandwich.” If jaws could literally drop, Tamara’s would be on the floor at this point. That’s how shocked she was. She didn’t even think her own boyfriend, Jack, would notice these little things. “Next voicemail: I have a few more things to say, and trust that I don’t mean you any harm. I also like my steak medium rare and merlot to pair it with, just the way you like yours.” “Who are you?” Bewildered, Tamara couldn’t wrap her head around it. Surprisingly, Carla was right so far. She just had a steak the night prior and a few glasses of merlot. And yes, she always liked her steak medium rare. The voicemail continued, “my former fiancée, Norman, unexpectedly proposed to me while dining at a steakhouse two years ago. It was very low-key and intimate, just the way I imagined it.” Tamara was just as confused as she was suspicious. “She could very well be a stalker,” she continued trying to make sense of what was happening. “I was charmed when he presented me with a diamond ring as he whispered into my ear asking me to marry him. How could I possibly say no? Getting married is every girl’s dream, especially for someone who grew up without a dad. See, we have so much in common, so I hope to hear from you.” Tamara looked at her diamond ring. It’s indeed beautiful. She just got hers the previous night at the steakhouse. It was so random that no one else knew about it, yet, except Carla, which further fueled her suspicion that she was a stalker. “Next voicemail: Norman fled the state just before the FBI issued his warrant of arrest. He is wanted in six different countries for millions of dollars worth of embezzlement and for the mysterious deaths of three of his former fiancés after learning of his crime involvement. He went by different names before he became Norman. Now, he goes by the name Jack Smith; the man you just got engaged to last night. If he found out that we know his secrets, we could both be in grave danger. Please call me.” Tamara wasn’t exactly convinced that Carla was telling the truth. Her constant snooping and stalking made her look like just another jealous and bitter ex. All of a sudden, her phone rang. “Hello?” Tamara was reasonably calm while still processing everything, “Tamara Brown?” “Speaking.” “I’m detective Lee. Our records show that Carla Martin called you 17 times last night. Do you know anything about Norman Marshall?” “Nor-man?” She hesitatingly asked. If Carla was right, Norman and Jack are one person. “Norman Marshall is the primary suspect in Carla’s mysterious passing this morning. Did she tell you anything at all? Dumbfounded, Tamara was in disbelief. Her heart could be heard pounding on the phone. “Are you alright, Ms. Brown?” The officer asked. Tamara struggled to respond. If Carla was right about Jack, then she was also in danger. The officer was still on the phone when she heard someone opening the door. But the thing is, no one else had a spare key, except, “Jack!” she said. “Excuse me?” detective Lee asked. “Jack… Jack is Norman! That’s what Carla said. And I think he’s at my door!” she nervously whispered.

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The Spare Key

OliverLim

Oliver Lim

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The Spare Key

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