Twinkle Little Star: A Marlow and Sage Mystery Thriller (A Nursery Rhyme Suspense Book 4)
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The shed was tucked in behind the shop across the narrow driveway. Mature landscaping, hedges and bushes blocked the view of the shed from most of Lambert’s neighbors.
“A single gal rents the apartment above the store,” Lambert explained. “But she’s a good tenant, quiet. I never see her.”
That was the only glitch. He glanced up at the apartment. Exterior steps led to a door painted bright red. He’d caught the tenant staring at him when he strolled up to the pawn shop entrance. She was pretty. Sort of familiar, but he couldn’t place her. Maybe a student at DU? Unfortunately the back of her apartment had a perfect view of the shed. She could be trouble.
Lambert wanted cash under the table, so the price was great and the location was perfect. He didn’t think he’d find anything else on short notice and he was eager to get started. He was sure he could handle one silly girl.
He smiled at Lambert. “I’ll take it.”
It only took him a couple days to get it set up. Computers, monitors, electrical boards, standard lab equipment. Electronics parts he bought from Lambert. His work consumed him and he’d completely forgotten about the girl next door, so when she appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, he jumped, like he’d seen a ghost.
Because he knew this girl. Every red-blooded guy in Michigan knew her. He remembered now why she looked familiar. He followed her on Instagram! She wore more make-up and less clothing there, so that was why he hadn’t caught on right away.
“Hey,” she called out.
He stopped mid-stride, just steps away from the shed and stared at her in a way that made him feel guilty, like he didn’t have a right to be in her yard. He was mesmerized by the sight of her not on a screen but in the flesh, exotic and dangerous, like spotting a panther in the wild.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stepping toward him. She wore a white down jacket and skin-tight blue jeans. Her unnaturally red hair flowed out from under a pink wool hat and she wore black gloves that were wrapped around a smoothie. Pouty lips sucked on the straw, causing him further distraction and unwanted physical response.
“I’m renting the shed from Lambert.”
“Really? For what?”
“Nothing. Just… stuff.”
She tossed the empty drink container into a nearby trash can and removed her gloves, slipping them into her pockets. “Just stuff? Let me guess. You’re gonna grow weed.”
“N-no,” he stammered. “Nothing like that.”
She smiled coyly. “Then what?”
“Just setting up a lab. For science.”
“No way!” She said, amping up her smile. “Cute and smart.”
His mouth dropped open, his eyes blinking. Had she seriously called him cute? No one has ever called him that, at least not to his face. Not even his own mother. The girl seemed unaware of how her friendly approach was making his insides turn to mush. She continued like the earth hadn’t just flipped on its axis.
“So, what kind of science?”
“Physics. Quantum. Quantum physics.”
“Wow. Well maybe someday you can show me your secrets.” She winked seductively and he flushed red. She added a wiggle to her walk as she left him, and shouted over her shoulder as she skipped up the steps to her door.
“Check me out on Instagram,” she called over her shoulder as she skipped up the steps to her door. “Crystal Morrisette!”
“I will!” he shouted. “I mean. I am. I already follow you!”
Ugh. What a loser. I already follow you?
Chapter Five
Sage
I had a new boy toy.
Mechanical this time. A lovely, slightly rusty, cherry red 1996 Toyota pickup truck. Low-riding, no extended cab. Could squeeze in two passengers if the middle person was small. After the fiasco with my former bosses last summer I took the last pay checks I’d gotten from them and bought this beauty. Since I had no boyfriend, and the guy I liked was with another girl, I felt that Boy Toy and I deserved each other.
My brother was busy with his own girlfriend, Janelle. She lived in the same dorm building I did, so at least I saw my brother once in a while, even though he was never there to hang out with me. My roommate Nora O’Shea was still with her boyfriend Jake, so for the first time in a long time, I was alone without best friend or boyfriend. Teagan’s absence left a deep hole in my heart and I didn't think I’d ever fully recover from losing her. But Boy Toy helped.
My fingers tapped on the steering wheel to a country tune on the stereo as I drove from the city of Detroit to the university campus across the river. I loved the feeling of independence and freedom I had while driving. Gas and insurance was a kicker to my pocket book, but totally worth it.
I pulled into the parking lot behind my dorm and the engine cut out with a sputter. “It's okay, Boy, we're here now. You can rest.” There were a lot of miles on Boy Toy’s engine, and I had to go easy on him. It wasn't like I had any where to go besides school, and my parents’ house. Mom and Dad worried that I had spent too much money on something I didn't need, but my brother was relieved, because now I’d stop asking to borrow his car.
Nora was in our room when I arrived. She was creating a complicated braid in her long red hair that could compete with any of the hairdos on Game of Thrones.
“Oh good, you’re back,” she said. “You can come with me to watch Jake's hockey practice, and after that drinks.”
My top lip snarled up into my best Elvis impersonation. “That's not really my scene.”
She snapped the final elastic to her hair masterpiece and locked her hazel gaze on me. “Your scene is wherever the single guys are hanging out, my friend. And this is where they're hanging out.”
I shrugged. “I’m not really up to it.”
“Seriously, Sage. It's time to stop sulking. You’re a killjoy these days. I know you had a couple hard blows recently. I don't deny that. But it’s time for you to shake it off, make a new start.”
I couldn’t decide if I should be offended by her callousness or feel blessed to have a friend who seemingly cared about me. I had been a lot more solemn and moody these days. And I used to be very social. A real butterfly. I missed being social. The old me was social. It used to be me cajoling Teagan to go out when she didn’t want to. Even though I’d rather curl up in a ball under my covers and read a book, I heard myself say, “Okay, I'll come.”
We bundled up in sweaters and wool hats and knitted scarfs like it was the middle of December instead of late October. Not only was it chilly outside, the arena was freezing. There was something off about seeing your breath when you were inside a building.
We’d only just sat down on one of the bleachers when Nora nudged me gently and pointed. “What about that guy?
“Who?”
“Number eight. His name is Isaac. He's nice. And as far as I know he's unattached.”
I squinted, but it was hard to see his face from this distance. He had a strong slap shot and filled out his practice uniform nicely.
After the scrimmage, Nora talked me into going out for beer and burgers. We were joined by Jake his friend Chet and a couple other girls who were apparently also on the lookout for single guys.
Somehow Nora maneuvered the seating arrangement so that I ended up sitting beside Number Eight. “Isaac, meet my roommate, Sage,” she announced loudly, Then she leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Don’t forget to smile.” I shot her a dirty look.
We were joined by Jake and his friend Chet, a guy I knew casually, but didn’t really know, and by a couple other girls who were apparently also on the look out for single guys.
There was an awkward moment of silence and I could almost see the wheels in Isaac’s head spinning, trying to come up with something to say to me. Finally he said, “Have we met before?”
“I don’t think so.”
He broke into a toothy smile. “I remember! You used to date that guy Tristan Coy, right?”
I leaned back. “Don’t remind me.”
Isaac l
ooked stricken.
“It’s okay,” I added quickly. “He’s just not my favorite topic.”
Two empty chairs across from us were claimed by none other than Stella Flowers and Wyatt Banks. I suppressed a groan. I really wasn’t in the mood for Stella and her perky ambition. She ignored me as she wrestled out of her jacket. Wyatt and Isaac greeted each other with a fist bump across the table.
Wyatt chin nodded my way and gave Isaac a thumbs up, like Isaac had completed a difficult quest by sitting by me.
I thought Nora had taken the chair to my left, but when I turned to mutter a complaint I found her oaf of a boyfriend, Jake, was there instead. This night was going downhill fast.
“Hey, Sage,” he grunted. Then he turned his back on me.
The server arrived and we ordered pizza and beer. I expected talk to be about hockey and sports and game stats and who the MVPs were, but to my surprise, part way through, Wyatt and Isaac started discussing the New Scientist Innovation Award contest.
“You guys are into science?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.
“You don’t have to look like a nerd to be smart,” Wyatt said.
“No, I know. Just, good for you.”
Stella draped a slender arm around Wyatt’s neck and smirked at me. “He’s not just eye candy.”
I ignored her. “Are you guys going to enter?”
Wyatt glanced at Isaac then said, “The winner gets full scholarship to a master degree program and a bonus five thousand bucks to invest in development. So, yeah.”
“So what’s your experiment?”
Wyatt chuckled. “We can't tell you. No offense. We can't really tell anyone.”
Isaac added, “We could have the winning idea. Can’t risk it getting stolen.”
“That wouldn't really happen would it?” I said.
Wyatt’s eyes darkened in a serious stare. “With this kind of publicity, and the doors it would open, you better believe it.”
The conversation abruptly changed to beer—which was best Budweiser, or Bud Lite?—and I couldn’t help but suppress a yawn. I’d had enough.
Just as I was reaching for my purse to leave, my phone buzzed. It was a text message. From Wyatt asking me if I wanted to go out sometime.
I shot him a withering look. He sat across from me with a cocky grin on his face while sitting right next to Stella! The nerve.
Chapter Six
Crystal
Crystal’s tiny kitchen window faced the alley, a perfect spot for her to spy on her interesting new neighbor. Fringe wasn’t a talker and seemed to rush in and out, his gaze darting up to her door, as if he were afraid of being seen by her, or worse, cornered and forced into another conversation. He spent most weekends and some evenings in the shed. To say she was curious about what he was doing in there was an understatement. She was curious by nature—some would call her a snoop. She didn’t apologize for it. Information was power. She’d do anything to get to the top and stay there. Anything.
Crystal took a sip from her glass of wine and stared out the window, the dust and grime suddenly an irritant. Setting the wine glass down on the narrow counter, she rummaged under the sink retrieving glass cleaner and paper towel. She spritzed and wiped, and she was almost finished the task when her eye caught sight of a blinding flash of light coming from inside the shed.
What was that? Was Fringe all right? Had he electrocuted himself with his science stuff?
Crystal dropped the cleaner into the sink, grabbed her jacket and rushed outside and down the stairs, gasping a little at the brittlely cold air. A rumbling noise filtered through Fringe’s door, masking the sound of her knuckles rapping against it. She wanted to call out, but realized she didn’t know the guy’s name. She always referred to him in her mind as Fringe, even after he showed up last week with a hair cut.
“Hello!” Crystal knocked harder. “Are you okay?”
When the door remained unanswered, she dragged over an empty wooden crate from Lambert’s heap of junk leaning up against the shed and she positioned it under the window next to a large bush. She wasn’t sure what she thought she’d see—maybe Fringe’s body lying limply on the floor—but not this. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. It was impossible, but…
Her knees felt weak and she almost stumbled off the crate.
This was crazy. How many other people knew about Fringe’s experiment? None if she could go by the number of people he’d brought to the shed. Crystal would’ve noticed if Fringe had company.
But now she knew. And it gave her an idea. A sly smile crossed her face as she sprinted back to the warmth of her apartment.
Fringe had become her new obsession.
No one had moved the crate tucked in beside the bush underneath the shed window, and Crystal took that as a sign from the universe. Dressing in dark colors with a mug of coffee for warmth, she took her position on the box. She could see through the bush’s branches, yet they worked to hide her.
It was important that Fringe didn’t discover how much she knew about him. That she knew his schedule. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 8:00 p.m. to midnight; weekends 11:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., only taking one short break to grab a sub sandwich around noon, and early Tuesday and Thursday mornings from 5:00 to 7:00. She’d discovered this by accident, having gotten up one Tuesday morning just before five to use the bathroom, and then again on a Thursday at seven in time to see Fringe leave.
On Sunday Crystal decided she was ready to move on to the next stage of her plan. She had no doubt Fringe would give her what she wanted. Blackmail combined with seduction was a convincing and intoxicating elixir - a magic potion she would serve to Fringe.
After a short time spent spying on Fringe through the window, she stepped off the crate, ran fingers through her hair and popped a mint into her mouth. She took a moment to add a bit of gloss to her lips—she always carried a lip product in her pocket—then rapped her knuckles on the door.
The humming sound that she had grown accustomed to went silent. She knocked again, harder this time. A few seconds later the door cracked open and Fringe stuck out his stubby nose, keeping the door tight around his body so that she couldn't see inside.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, you want to hang out?" Crystal batted her eyelashes and slowly ran her thumb nail along her bottom lip. It had the desired effect. Fringe’s jaw dropped and he stared mesmerized at her mouth. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure. He straightened his broad shoulders and stared down at her.
“I'm kind of busy.”
"Yeah, I know,” she said this with a conspiratorial wink. “I have to confess, I've been a Peeping Tom. Or shall I say a Peeping Sally.”
Fringe seemed to blanch at that.
“Hey don't worry.” Crystal nudged up to Fringe and pressed her hand against his chest, forcing him to take a small step back. “Your secret is safe with me.” She ran her fingers along his bare arm until they reached his palm and laced her fingers through his, then drew him back inside the shed and closed the door.
Chapter Seven
Sage
I answered a rap at my door and was startled to find my brother Ben standing in the hallway. He was alone, without his girlfriend Janelle.
“Hey,” I said. “What's up?”
Ben shoved his fists into his pockets and sauntered in. As I closed the door behind him, he sat casually on my desk chair, causing it to sink under his bulky weight. There was a reason why he’d been a star football player—he was born with the wide shoulders and physical mass of a linebacker. He still wore his team jersey.
Ben gave a cursory glance at the mess on Nora’s side of the room. She reminded me of a human tornado. Her clothing draped over every free surface on her side. Not a single drawer of her dresser was closed and personal items flowed out of the drawers like it was a lingerie waterfall. I liked tidiness and found a sense of peace when things were organized and put away. My bed was made, my drawe
rs closed, my fashion frames arranged neatly on a tray. My closet doors closed all the way. We were like the odd couple, our room a before and after photo shoot illustration of an explosion at American Apparel.
Turning his back on Nora’s disaster, Ben rested his elbows on his knees, put his chin on his hands and looked at me with worried eyes. I’d seen this look so many times growing up. It was what he would do when he had a dilemma, whether at school with teachers or with his friends or his teammates, and often with his girlfriend-of-the-month.
I hopped onto my bed, folded my legs yoga style, and leaned forward. “Spill.”
“I want to leave Detroit.”
I jerked back, sincerely surprised. We were both raised in Detroit by our adoptive parents. It wasn’t paradise for sure, but it was home.
“Really? Why? Where do you want to go?”
He let out a tired sigh. “I’m restless. I need to travel. I saved up money over the summer and I want to see the world. I haven't decided yet what I want to do with my life, what to pursue for a career, but I think maybe I'll figure it out if I go on a trip.”
I felt a little jealous. “That sounds exciting. Do you have an idea where you’ll go?”
“I thought I’d start with New York, then fly to England, France, Germany, Switzerland over to the Eastern countries like Hungary and Romania, and then make my way south through Africa. From South Africa I’d head to Malaysia, Australia and then back to LA. I figure by the time I get to California I’ll know what the hell I want to do with my life.”
Now I was really jealous. “Wow. That’s quite the itinerary.”
“You can get a pretty good deal for around-the-world travel if you go one direction, especially if you’re a student.”
I filed that away for future reference. “How long would it take?”
“Six to nine months, probably.”
I was beginning to suspect the problem. “That's a long time to be away from Janelle.”