by Lee Strauss
“What did it feel like physically?”
“It felt like an electric shock. Uncomfortable, but not that painful.”
Sage was focusing more on the ditch than the road, searching for the tree she hit. I noticed something lying on the middle of the road before she did.
“Sage, slow down.” I pointed. “What's that?”
She hit the brakes. “I don’t know. Is it a deer? Or a dog?”
As we got closer though, I knew it was worse than that.
“It looks like a body.”
Sage paled and her hands trembled on the steering wheel. “Oh no.”
She parked the truck on the edge of the road, and we jumped out. It was definitely a body, a man lying flat on his back with his hands resting on his belly like he was simply sleeping.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Sage said.
I couldn't believe my eyes either. The dead man was Rudy Finch.
“I guess this eliminates him from our suspect list,” I said.
“I know, damn.”
I called Jack to report it and he said to stay with the body until his team got there.
“It’s kind of creepy,” Sage said, her voice catching. “Out in the middle of nowhere with him… dead.”
I had to agree, but also somehow I was not surprised.
We stared at the dead man on the road.
Sage squatted for a closer look. “He was stabbed.”
I was on high alert. Our guy could be lurking in the forest somewhere watching.
I recalled the footage of the pawnshop break in Jack had shown us. The guy didn’t face the camera until he’d put on the skull-painted hockey mask, and wielded the hockey stick like a sword on the unconscious Mr. Lambert. At least Lambert had survived.
“First an accidental death, then a physical beating with a hockey stick, and now a stabbing death. The guy’s rage is accelerating.”
“That's assuming that our teleporter is responsible for this,” Sage said.
“Yes. True, but only our teleporter would know about these exact coordinates.”
Sage stood, frowning. “Yeah you're right.”
“Teleportation must affect him psychologically,” I said. “I mean, every time he teleports his cells are disassembled and then reassembled. You know how complicated the brain is. Even the most minute change could alter his personality.”
“You seem okay.”
“I only teleported once.”
“Twice, actually. There and back.”
I felt sick to my stomach. Soulless? “Yeah, well, I’m probably an even bigger geek as a result.”
"It’s likely altering him physically as well,” Sage said. “Let's take a look around to see if we can find any new evidence.”
I didn’t like the idea of leaving her side, but rationally, the more she moved about, the less likely it was that the guy could grab her co-ordinates—if that was how it worked—and assuming he was monitoring this area. Probably a good thing for me to shuffle around too.
“Are these his footprints?” Sage pointed to heel imprints in the gravel. “A sign of a scuffle?”
“More like drag marks. I bet Rudy was already dead before he was brought here. I wonder why our guy killed him? What was his motive?”
Sage continued to scope the ground. “Jealousy? Maybe he’s been to Rudy’s dorm room.”
“I wonder if he really meant to kill Crystal. I think he's angry that she's dead and that's what started this.”
“What makes you say that?” Sage asked, eyeing me.
“I know they were acquainted. He worked across the alley from where she lived, and he was in possession of one of her crystal figurines. She was a beautiful woman, so no doubt he was attracted to her. She must’ve done something to aggravate him or to hurt him or to make him mad, and he lashed out.”
“It’s a good hypothesis, Mars.”
“It’s not a stretch to assume he was already on the edge emotionally and that something pushed him over.
Sage crouched down and picked at something in the dirt. Whatever she found was small enough to fit on the tip of her finger.
“What is it?” I asked
“Maybe nothing, but it looks like a paint chip.”
I leaned in for a closer look. “Give it to Jack when he gets here.”
We turned to the sound of an approaching vehicle. Jack’s car rolled up, and he along with Agents Black and Seaway got out and strolled toward Rudy Finch's body. Black examined the body while Seaway searched the area.
Jack shook his head. “I hate it when they’re so young.”
Sage offered up the evidence on her fingertip. "I found this on the road. I don't know if it's anything but it might have come from our suspect.”
Seaway, overhearing, pulled out a small evidence bag from her pocket, opened it, and Sage dropped the paint chip in.
“Good eye, kiddo,” Jack said. “We’ll get it analyzed and let you know.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sage
There wasn't much that Marlow and I could do once the CISUE team got there, so we said goodbye to Jack and headed back to the university.
I didn’t think I could concentrate on calculus. I wanted to talk this out, debrief. “I don't know about you, but I’m not ready to go back to class.”
Marlow’s fingers drummed on the top of his thighs. “Me neither.”
“Harvey’s?” I suggested? “I really could use a steak sandwich about now.”
“Sounds good.”
Harvey’s Pub, located just outside the boundaries of the university, was a popular hangout for DU students. It had a dark, dusky ambience, with dim lighting coming from low hanging bulbs and the dusty oblong tiffany lamps that hung over the pool tables. There was a small dance floor and I had a flashback to an uncomfortable time with Marlow, when I had been dancing with my then newly-minted boyfriend Tristan. Marlow had been playing a game of pool with Dakota, back before they were a couple. Tristan had been acting like an ass, treating me badly, and I’d felt embarrassed that Marlow had witnessed it.
Arriving between the lunch and supper crowd meant the place was only half full. We claimed a table along the back wall close to the bar.
A middle-aged woman with a salt-and-pepper French braid took our order. I’d been craving steak for a while now—probably low on iron or something—and got the steak sandwich. Marlow ordered a burger and fries. I was parched, so I was happy that our drinks arrived quickly. I took a long sip through the yellow, plastic straw. Marlow sat across from me, and ran a hand through his hair. It was shorter now, which I thought made him look older.
“Maybe Rudy Finch is our man,” he said, “and accidentally killed himself.”
“He was laid out pretty neatly,” I said. “And stabbed.”
“Yeah, I guess that would be hard to pull off,” Marlow conceded.
“It’s just so frustrating to be back to square one. He’s out there and we have no idea who he is.” I stirred the ice in my drink, clinking it against the glass, soothed by the musical sound. “Are we sure it’s even a he?”
“Yes. I saw him in the shed. Definitely a guy. Plus the security camera in the pawn shop proves it.”
Our meals arrived and we slipped into easy conversation. This latest crime had bonded us again, like old times. We were there for each other—me for him, him for me. The dread I’d been living under since the accident had lifted and I felt hopeful and contented. We didn’t have a suspect, but Marlow and I were a team again.
“How’s the steak?” Marlow said.
I cut another piece, running it through the reddish brown juices and teased him with a low moan as I chewed. “Really yummy.” It came out ad “mealy mummy,” and he laughed. He reached out a fork playfully and I pulled my plate away from him. “Hey, stopped coveting my food.”
“Get down!” Marlow yelled. In the split second while my mind was trying to register if he was kidding or serious, he shot out of his chair, threw himself into the seat
beside me and flipped the table.
The blast of a gunshot was followed by screams and chaos as patrons scrambled for cover. Marlow covered me with his body, but in the mirror over the bar I could see the gunman. He wore a hockey mask.
“How—” I began, but Marlow hushed me. I trembled beneath his weight. It was too much of a coincidence for the masked man to choose to shoot up the same pub Marlow and I randomly chose to eat at. He was after us and he’d found us.
“M-M-Mar…” That stutter. I heard it before. It was the guy that Rudy Finch had been talking to in the hall. “M-M-M…” He switched to a sing-song voice. “Marlow Henry, stand up! Or I’ll shoot at random.”
Singing stopped his stutter.
The scene was majorly surreal.
I tugged on Marlow’s arm, but couldn’t stop him from slowly standing, arms raised in the air.
In the mirror I could see the masked man. He held his gun, arms stretched out. He was shaking so bad I was afraid he’d shoot Marlow by accident.
“Let’s take this outside,” Marlow said calmly.
“S-s-top!”
“It’s me you want, right?” Marlow took a careful step forward. I knew he wanted to push the danger outdoors. He had a hero’s heart, not even hesitating to risk his life. I really loved him in that moment.
I couldn't let the guy take Marlow. I stared at the knife in my hand. I had no memory of ever playing a throwing game, not even darts, but somehow I knew I knew how. My heart in my throat, I leaped up, exposing myself and hurled the steak knife through the air.
It landed in the middle of the man's chest. Not deeply—it wasn’t that sharp of a knife, but enough to bite. He yelped and his knees buckled. On his way down he took a shot at Marlow, shattering the lamp above us instead. Marlow dove back behind the table with me. The room vibrated with terror-filled energy. We dropped to the ground flat on our stomachs. I pointed to the bar; we'd be more secure from a bullet there. We wormed toward it, inch by inch, my elbows feeling the burn from the carpet.
I kept my on eye on the masked man and stilled when he looked back at me. Pale blue eyes with dark pupils, narrowed and zeroing in on me. I froze with prickling fear. We wouldn’t get behind the bar in time.
Just when I thought he’d point his gun and shoot, someone yelled, “Get him!”
The masked man disappeared before our very eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Marlow
I helped Sage up. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine." She brushed dust off her jeans as she stood. “Did you see what I saw?”
“Yep.” Bedlam erupted in the room. Women crying, men shouting, some even running outside as if they might catch the gunman. I could see them through the open door looking up and down the street, knowing that they weren't going to find our culprit anywhere. Sirens screamed in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer.
I took Sage’s hand and headed to the restrooms down a narrow hall behind the bar. I pulled her into the men’s room with me, checked quickly that we were alone, and locked the door.
I whipped out my phone and dialed.
“Hey, Jack. I'm with Sage and I have you on speakerphone. There's been an incident at Harvey's pub. The masked man walked in pointing a gun.”
“Any injuries?” Jack’s voice remained professional, but I heard a tone of worry.
“The gun went off once. It killed a lampshade, but no one was hurt. Sage and I are okay, just a little shaken. He knows we’re onto him, Jack. He called me out by name.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
I ran through the order of events, how Sage and I decided to stop for a bite to eat before heading back to campus, up to Sage’s knife throw and the guy’s disappearance.
“You’re choice of eatery was impulsive?”
“Yes.”
“He’s tracking you somehow.”
“Sage’s truck?”
“Not possible. One of our guys inspected it before it was released to her.” Made sense. Sage had only had her truck back for a couple of hours.
“The team’s going to hack into the security camera at the pub to remove evidence of Sage’s knife toss, good work, by the way—and the perp’s disappearance. You guys should get out of there before the police arrive."
“We’re on our way out now.”
“And destroy your phones.”
Sage threw me a look of horror. She said, “How will we contact you?”
“I’ll have new phones delivered to your dorms later today.”
Jack signed off and Sage and I slipped out the back door of the kitchen—I’d make sure to drop by later to settle the bill—and drove away just as the first cop car skidded into the pub's parking lot. I was glad Sage was driving because my nerves were shot and I couldn't keep my legs from bouncing. Sage’s gaze darted to them but she didn't reach over to stop me.
“That was a close call," she said.
“Too close.”
“The CISUE team is on it,” she said. “Maybe we should take a step back and let them do their job.”
I couldn't agree more. Not because some madman knew my name and probably wanted me dead, but because he’d seen me with Sage. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her because of me. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I have a paper to write for tomorrow anyway.”
Sage laughed. “Me too. Our lives are so crazy, Mars.”
She dropped me off at my building and I held my palm out. “Give me your phone and I’ll destroy it for you.”
She handed it over. “How are you going to do that?”
“I can finally make good use of the dumbbells in the lounge.”
She smiled and waved and I watched her go until her truck disappeared from view. I didn’t even get inside when my phone buzzed again. Thinking it was Jack I whipped it out, but the text was from Dakota.
Dakota: Need to talk. Now.
Marlow: Your place or mine. :-)
Dakota: Be here in ten minutes.
An order. I’d been summoned. This couldn't be good.
I dashed inside to complete the kill-the-phones mission. It was surprisingly cathartic to destroy them.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” I jumped as Zed walked up behind me. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I’ll explain later.” I handed him the ruins. “Can you dump this for me?”
“What? I’m your garbage man now?”
I repeated, “I’ll explain later.”
Dakota knew it was a ten minute walk to her dorm from mine, and I’d already blown three. I had to jog now if I didn’t want to make her even more angry than I could tell she was.
She was waiting outside when I got there, bundled up in her brown winter coat with a green scarf around her neck, a matching wool hat on her head with pink tufts of hair poking out. Her expression was bland—she didn't look happy or sad to see me. I predicted this was a bad sign.
“Marlow, this isn't working.””
“Dakota, I know a lot has been going on and I haven't been spending the time with you that I want to.”
“No, please stop.” She held out a hand and pressed it against my chest. “Let me speak.”
“Okay.”
“I really like you. I think you're a great guy and I enjoy hanging out with you. We had fun this summer, but I feel like there are three people in our relationship.”
“Dakota…”
“Let me finish.”
I let out a depressed sigh that manifested in the cold as a long puff of smoke.
“I know that Sage means more to you than you like me to believe.”
“We’re friends.”
“I saw you drive by in her truck.”
“What?”
“You were talking so intensely together you didn’t even notice me on the sidewalk.”
“Oh.”
“You lied about having lunch with Jack, and you didn't take my calls because you were with her.”
“I’m
sorry I lied to you about Jack, but it’s not what it looks like.”
Dakota sighed. “Marlow, I think we’d be better off as friends.”
In my mind I knew she was right. I hadn't been playing fair with her. My heart hadn’t disengaged from Sage the way I had hoped. But honestly, I didn't know how Sage felt about me. She tended to blow hot and cold. Sometimes I thought from the way she looked at me that maybe she found me interesting or even attractive, and in the next moment she’d be cool and everything going on between us was strictly business.
Sage wasn’t a factor at this moment. Not in the way Dakota imagined. With everything that had been happening with Jack and CISUE and the fact that I’d just been shot at—Dakota staying with me could actually be dangerous for her.
In the same way I had brought Sage into a dangerous situation today, I could just as easily put Dakota in harms way and not even realize it. For her safety’s sake, she was right.
“I don't agree with you, at least not entirely, but if this is how you feel then I accept your decision. I just want you to know that I didn't come here expecting to break up. And even though I understand, I still feel kinda shocked.”
Dakota reached out and patted my arm. “It’ll be strange for a little while, but then us being just friends will feel normal again. And we’ll be fine.” She threw her arms around me in a quick hung, then disappeared into her building.
I walked away in a daze. Today I’d learned about CISUE, suffered through intense and awkwardly arousing defense moves with Sage, found a dead body, got shot at, and got dumped by my girlfriend.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marlow Henry always seemed to be with that pretty girl Sage Farrell even though the guy had a girlfriend. He hated guys like that—the kind who played around with women, who thought themselves as chick magnets and womanizers.
He wasn't that kind of guy. He would have been loyal to Crystal. He would never have cheated on her or flirted with other girls when she wasn't around. Crystal should have stayed true to him. He would've made her happy. He would've been good to her.
