by Lee Strauss
His path took him past the sports section and he stopped when he spotted the hockey equipment. There were sticks and masks and jerseys. He’d grown up watching the game on TV and dreamed of making the NHL, but his mom said hockey was a sport for rich kids and put him in soccer instead.
Turned out he wasn’t that athletic, but it burned in his gut like fire to let the dream die.
He picked up a stick and tested it out with an imaginary puck. He shoots, he scores! There were a number of hockey masks hanging from hooks on the wall, and an old-style one with an image of a skull painted on it in black caught his eye. He snatched it and put it on.
He felt powerful and invincible. He faced one of the security cameras and pounded his chest like an ape.
With mask on and hockey stick in hand, he entered the office. He dug through the desk and found nothing. The file cabinets were equally uncooperative. With growing agitation he ransacked the room, clearing everything on Lambert’s desk onto the floor. He let out a growl of frustration.
He must’ve thrown a security switch, because standing in the doorway was Lambert himself. “Hey!”
Swinging the hockey stick like a sword, he clipped the old man in the head. Lambert tripped over the trash can and landed hard on his back. Blood flowed from the cut on his cheek.
“The key to the gun case?”
The old man trembled but said nothing.
He placed the blade of the stick along the man’s throat and pressed.
“Under the carpet in the corner under the window, there’s a safe.”
“Combination?”
Lambert croaked out the numbers. He struck the man again, and his head bobbed to the side.
He found the key and claimed a gun, disappearing just as the cops arrived.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Marlow
After everything I’d been through in my freshman year, I’d developed an interest in criminology, so I decided to take CRIM 101 as one of my electives. It wasn’t unexpected to see Sage had come to the same conclusion, but I was surprised that, after mentioning my course selection to Zed and Dakota, they had both decided to take it too.
“Thanks to you,” Zed had said, “I’ve come in contact with the criminal mind. I think it would do me well to understand it better.” He added morbidly, “Just in case.”
“My dad’s a forensic pathologist,” Dakota said. “Who knows, maybe I’ll decide to follow in his footsteps.” It was hard to imagine my pint-size, pink-haired girlfriend cutting up cadavers.
The four of us taking the same class caused me to experience an irrational amount of anxiety. The other three didn’t seem to be affected in the same way. Zed and Sage had forged a friendship over the summer, so seeing them together was only sort of weird for me. It was the close proximity of Dakota and Sage— to each other and to me—that made me break out in a cold sweat.
Criminology was taught in a building across campus so I only had a short window to get there after my chemistry lab. I had to catch a university bus heading toward the park, then hoof it two blocks to the sociology building. I slowed down the block before it to catch my breath—hello, I was going to sit close to two beautiful girls, both of whom I was attracted to, and I didn’t want to arrive out of breath looking like I was about to puke.
Sage got there when I did.
“Hey,” she said without smiling.
“Hey,” I said back. “Dakota told me what happened yesterday. Are you okay?”
Her mouth twitched. “Do I look okay?”
“Well, yeah, you look great, actually.”
She looked at me and said stiffly, “Thanks.”
“Dakota said you had that idiot on the ground. Way to go.”
“That part was a little surprising.”
Nudging her elbow playfully I said, “Have you been watching Bruce Lee on the sly?”
She didn’t smile back, just walked on ahead. I got the sense that she was put out with me. I probably should’ve called her or texted her as soon as I heard about the incident, but Dakota had been with me until late last night and I knew how sensitive she was about me interacting too much with Sage. By the time Dakota left, it felt weird to start calling because I had left it so long.
With Dakota and Sage I felt like I was in a perpetual lose/lose situation.
The class was held in a small lecture theater. Zed, being a creature of habit, always sat in the same seat, right hand side, three rows from the front, second chair from the aisle. Sage usually took the empty seat beside him, while Dakota and I chose anything free in the rows behind them. I was strategic about this because I couldn’t stand having Sage watching me and Dakota from behind. I’d much rather have the opportunity to observe her.
Zed always arrived early, since he had a math class prior, which was closer than my chemistry class. Today Dakota had made it earlier too. She was sitting in Sage’s chair, giving Zed rapt attention.
“How many theoretical physicists does it take to change a light bulb?” he said.
Dakota’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “How many?”
“Two. One to hold the bulb and one to rotate the universe.”
Dakota giggled and I rolled my eyes at Sage. We took a step closer.
“Photon checks into a hotel,” Dakota said to Zed. “The bellhop asks, ‘Can I help you with your luggage?’ It replies, ‘I don’t have any. I’m traveling light.’”
Zed chortled.
I paused mid-step. I’d heard Zed’s joke a hundred times, but Dakota had never told a joke in my presence. Never to me.
“Is something wrong?” Sage said.
I forced a smile. “No.”
Sage accepted my short answer and continued ahead of me. “Hey, guys,” she announced. Dakota looked up at her in surprise, then scampered out of the chair beside Zed. She smiled at him before joining me.
“Where do you want to sit?” she asked, like nothing monumental had happened at all.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sage
There was no doubt in my mind that Dakota would’ve told Marlow about my encounter with Rudy Finch yesterday. Did I mean so little to Marlow that he couldn’t spare a minute to ask me about it? Especially since we’re in the middle of an investigation?
My feelings were hurt and that made me feel stupid and vulnerable. And mad. Hot emotions and energy that I funneled into my search for info on Rudy Finch.
What an asshole! Professor Garvin had to be blind to hire him as his assistant. I had a good mind to file a report. I should anyway. The police would charge him with assault, fingerprint him and put him behind bars.
See? If Marlow had called me, we would’ve worked out our next move together. Instead I was breaking into Rudy’s dorm room by myself.
Somehow I knew how to pick a lock. I wondered where all these latent skills were coming from. Possibly I actually learned something from all those crime novels I read when I wasn’t actually trying to solve a crime.
As my fingers worked with the bobby pin I’d pulled out of my hair, my mind reviewed what I had learned from my online search.
Rudy was a rich kid whose family owned one of the mansions along Detroit River, which would explain why he didn’t have to share a dorm room like most everyone else. He was known for his short temper if you could go by the comments on his Facebook page. He was at DU working on his masters degree in physics and managed to snag the TA gig.
The lock system clicked and I was surprised my efforts had actually worked. Checking to make sure the coast was still clear, I pushed Rudy’s door open, slipped inside and almost had a heart attack.
The room was a shrine to Crystal Morrisette. Posters of the well-endowed woman papered the wall. One of the larger ones was even signed. Crystal figurines peppered the desk and shelf space. There was a stack of small cardboard shipping boxes and paper packing material. Had Rudy been sending Crystal gifts?
The guy was clearly obsessed. No wonder he was so upset by her death.
Or wa
s he was so upset because he’d inadvertently killed her and needed someone to blame?
Was Rudy Finch our guy?
Or, maybe that scene in the student building was just a show to deflect his guilt onto me. He was working on his master’s degree in physics so obviously he had an above average IQ. Had he been monitoring traffic on the forest road somehow? Did he know when he teleported Crystal Morrisette that she would be hit by a vehicle? Maybe he had already killed her beforehand, and needed to cover it up?
There were stacks of textbooks on Rudy’s desk, as well as an open notebook. I flipped through the pages, but it appeared to be nothing more than a class assignment. Rudy wasn’t exactly a clean freak. It appeared he just dropped his clothes as he removed them, like a male version of Nora.
Even though he didn’t have to share, the second bed remained, though you’d hardly know it for all the stuff stacked on it. I wasn’t sure what I hoped to find. Something incriminating, but what?
I stiffened at the sound of a key in the lock. The door opened a crack and Rudy’s conversation with another guy filtered in.
“My p-paper doesn’t deserve this m-mark.”
“You’re right,” Rudy said. “I was being generous. It deserved lower.”
I scoured the room searching desperately for a place to hide. Rudy’s room was on the third floor, so jumping out the window wasn’t an option. But, he was such a slob that I should be able to work it to my advantage.
The angry student shouted, “I’m takin’ this up w-with G-Garvin!”
“I know what the man expects from his students and what you produced wasn’t it.”
“You’ll b-be s-sorry!”
Rudy gave a mocking laugh. “Yeah. I’ll b-be s-sorry.”
I collapsed to the floor and rolled under the unused bed just as Rudy slammed the door. My heart beat hard and fast against my ribs. I was trapped like a rabbit. Plus it stank. Rudy stored his shoes here and the foot odor was sharp enough to kill a cat. I carefully moved my hand up to my face to cover my mouth and nose.
From here I could see the casters of the desk chair roll back and Rudy sinking into it. I heard the zipper of his backpack followed by the rapid clicking of keys on his laptop. Oh God. I hoped he wasn’t delving into a long assignment. My legs were already starting to cramp.
Rudy farted and belched and I could picture him scratching his armpits like an ape.
Please leave, please leave, please leave.
My nose itched from the dust bunnies and my mouth was dry as cotton. A tickle started at the back of my throat and I fought the urge to cough. It was tortuous.
Finally, Rudy got up from his chair. A minute later I heard him peeing in the bathroom. Could I escape while he was in there? No, I hadn’t heard him shut the door.
When he came back into the room he sat on the empty bed—was there a spot not covered with his crap?—and the mattress sank low enough to touch my back. I was cramped, dry mouthed, and now suffering a bout of claustrophobia.
Then his fingers fumbled under the bed. I pushed the nearest shoe until his fingers touched, held my breath, hoping it was the one he was looking for.
He put it on and I quickly found the matching shoe, placing it in the path of his searching fingers.
I couldn’t imagine what Rudy would do if he discovered me. Likely my body would show up in the canal sometime tomorrow. I forced myself to stay still, holding my breath and covering my mouth. The door slammed shut and I counted to ten just to make sure he didn’t swing back inside for something he forgot.
Then I got the hell out of there.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Marlow
I stared at her text.
Sage: Mars! Meet me in the courtyard. It’s urgent.
“Is everything okay?” Dakota whispered, eyeing my warily. We were working on class assignments in the library with Zed, who stopped typing at the sound of Dakota’s voice.
“Uh, yeah, fine. But, I have to take this.”
I felt the lazer stare of disapproval from both Dakota and Zed as I left. Within minutes I was at the courtyard. Sage approached from the opposite side. From a distance it would have probably looked like the two of us jogging to meet each other were lovers who hadn't seen each other in ages. Minus a lip lock, which, unfortunately, our greeting didn’t end in.
“What is it?” I struggled to manage my breathing. “What's wrong?”
Her face was pink with excitement. “I think I know who the killer is.”
“Really? Who?”
“Rudy Finch.”
“Garvin’s TA? What makes you think that?”
“His room is a shrine to Crystal Morrisette. There are pictures of her all over his wall and he's been sending her crystal figurines."
I ducked lower to catch her eyes. “Wait. How do you know this?"
Her gaze flittered to the ground before she found my eyes again. “I kind of broke in. I picked the lock.”
Sage was full of surprises, and I wasn’t exactly happy about this one. “You picked the lock?”
“Yeah."
“How did you know how to do that?”
“I’m not sure. I think I just got lucky.”
“Did anyone see you? This could be really dangerous."
“No.” She hesitated like there was more, then added, “He showed up when I was there, but I hid under the bed until he left."
I flailed my arms in disbelief. I wanted to shake her. “Sage! Do you know what could've happened to you if he’d found you there?”
“He didn’t find me, okay? The point is he bullied me yesterday because of Crystal Morrisette and today I discovered his obsession with her. I think he could be our guy. We need to call Jack.”
I pulled out my phone, dismayed by how my hand shook. I clenched my jaw tight to keep the anger I felt at Sage for needlessly putting herself in danger like that from lashing out at her.
Jack answered on the second ring. “Hey, Marlow. What's up?”
“We have a lead on a possible suspect.”
“Okay, let's not do this over the phone. I'll be there in thirty minutes.”
That gave Sage and me time to grab a couple of coffees on our way, and time for me to cool down. I didn’t think I could say anything to her without it sounding like a scolding.
It was a quiet walk to the main parking lot and the tension in my chest eased somewhat by the time we got there. Jack was already there and I hopped in the passenger seat of his gray sedan while Sage slid in the back.
Jack gave us both a look. “Okay, let me have it.”
I updated him on Sage's suspicions and the condition of Rudy Finch's dorm room. Jack cast a backwards glance at Sage and arched a brow at her brazen B&E, but said nothing about it. He started the car and pulled into the flow of traffic.
"Where are we going?” I asked.
“You still want to know where I work?”
Really? He was going to tell us about his secret job? “Sure.”
“Before I can take you there, you’ll have to be willing to sign a strict confidentiality agreement.”
Made sense to me. “Of course.”
“When I say strict, I mean more than you probably think.”
“Like what?” I said.
He glanced at me briefly. “You must agree to having your memories of the organization and everything unusual to do with this case erased, once we get the guy.”
Sage leaned forward, poking her dark head between us. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Why would we agree to that?” I asked. “It’s absurd.”
“It is. But unless you agree, there is nothing more I can tell you. I’ll just turn around and take you back.”
“How do you isolate memories to erase?” Sage said. “I didn’t know something like that could be done.”
“I can’t even tell you that until you agree.”
I twisted to look at Sage and assessed her body language. I was hoping she’d be sitting back, arms cro
ssed, gazing blankly out the window, but her expression was eager and she bounced with excitement, arms resting on the back of Jack’s seat. “I agree,” she said.
I couldn’t very well let her go ahead without me, so I added reluctantly, “Me too.”
“Okay, are you going to tell us about the secret organization now?” Sage asked.
Jack muttered, “Yup,” then stayed silent for the next two minutes. Waiting for him to explain what had been such a big mystery between us tested my patience.
“Can you tell us anything now?"
“Okay, okay,” he let out a low chuckle like he got a kick out of pulling my chain. “I work for a sub-government agency called CISUE.”
“See sue?” I asked
“Spelt C.I.S.U.E., Central intelligence for Special or Unusual Events. Our department investigates the extraordinary and unexplainable phenomenon.”
“Like the TV show Fringe?” Sage asked.
“Yeah, kind of like that," Jack said. "Except without the crazy scientist."
“Cool,” I said, legitimately impressed.
Jack smirked. “You guys know a little about extraordinary and unusual events.”
We were almost out of city limits when Jack pulled into an underground parking garage. The building overhead was nondescript and a bit run down; it could've been any old warehouse. A good façade for a secret agency.
The hallway inside had plain white walls and worn gray carpet. There was one elevator, which we got into, and Jack pushed the number five. The scene on the fifth floor looked like it could’ve been the office area of any random business, with people sitting at computer terminals and talking on phones. Our presence earned a few seconds of note and a couple people even waved at us.
Jack took us through to another elevator. He placed a thumb on a security pad, and then the elevator door opened. “The sixth floor isn’t accessible to everyone,” he explained. I understood why when the doors opened to let us out again. Before us was a special ops station—NCIS type. Big screens, 3D animation, personnel with headphones and computer keyboards, and a wall of monitors flashing satellite images from all corners of the world. Sage and I both gaped at it all.
