Twinkle Little Star: A Marlow and Sage Mystery Thriller (A Nursery Rhyme Suspense Book 4)

by Lee Strauss

  She deserved to die—he was glad it happened now.

  Marlow Henry and the girl were having an intense conversation standing with only two feet between them. It irritated him that they were standing so close. He wished he knew what they were talking about.

  He could easily teleport behind the brick pony wall they stood next to, but he had no way of knowing what or who was on the other side of it, and he couldn't risk being spotted.

  He had to be careful. Had to stay normal, not draw any unwanted attention to himself.

  He wasn’t sorry about what happened to Crystal anymore, or what he had done to Mr. Lambert. In fact, the desire to inflict harm on those who wronged him grew stronger every day. Like a massive sling shot pulling taut in his head, he wanted to let the stones of revenge go.

  He had a list now of those who had to suffer. Marlow Henry was on it.

  Chapter Forty

  Sage

  I made my way over to the student building for the last student government rally event. My eyes felt like sandpaper and I practically inhaled my coffee. With all the things that had been going on, plus papers to write and tests to study for, sleep eluded me. Like a stone skipping along the water, but just wouldn’t sink.

  I couldn't wait for this rally to be over as there was no chance now I was going to win seeing as half the student body thought me guilty of manslaughter and frowned at how unfair it was that I was walking about free while Crystal’s life had ended.

  Stella had upped her game. Helium balloons pinned to either side of her table were trying to float up to the ceiling and she dressed like she was running for Miss America instead of a government seat at DU.

  “Look what the cat dragged in" she said with a smirk. “I have to give you chops for tenacity."

  “I don't need anything from you, Stella.”

  Minji ’s face reddened with embarrassment at her friend's behavior and I wondered why she hung around with Stella in the first place. I offered her a friendly smile, like we were comrades in the trenches here, and she surprised me by smiling back. Stella inserted herself into a small group of guys, flirting her way to a win. I shuffled over to Minji and asked, “Why do you hang out with her? She's really not nice to you.”

  “I don’t know.” Her dark eyes darted around the floor, too shy to look at me. “I’ve found it hard to make friends. She kind of took me under her wing.”

  I felt chastised. I’d spent the first month and a half of this semester feeling lonely and sorry for myself, not even thinking about others who might feel the same way. “We could hang out sometime,” I said. She blinked a couple times and I wondered if maybe she drew the line at having friends accused of killing a person.

  Her gaze finally settled on mine. “That would be nice.”

  I let out a breath. “Great. I just got a new phone. Let me put your number in.”

  When I glanced back up at Minji, I saw Stella behind her giving me a steely glare. “Minji,” she called. When Minji obediently responded, she handed her a couple bills. “Can you get me a diet Pepsi from the vending machine?”

  I gave Stella a look of disapproval and she shot a haughty look back. I opened up my bag and removed the last stack of fliers. It wouldn't take me long to hand these babies out. I scanned the hall for a sign of Dakota, but couldn't see her pink hair anywhere. Instead I was surprised to see Marlow walking toward me.

  “Where is Dakota?”

  “I don’t think she’s coming today.”

  “Really? Is something wrong? Is she not feeling well?”

  He stared out over my head. “We broke up last night.”

  I let out a soft “Oh.”

  “I hope I didn't have anything to do with it,” I said gently. “I know I've been demanding a lot of your time lately.”

  “Not your fault. You didn't ask for these things to happen. And I can't tell Dakota the things I can tell you. Secrets in relationships just don't work. There are so many things I wanted to tell her that I couldn't and she could tell I was holding back.” He let out a sigh. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

  “I’m sorry, Marlow. Must be painful.”

  “It is. I'll get over it.”

  I wasn’t sure where to take the conversation from there and an awkward silence fell between us. I busied myself by spreading out the flyers into a nice fan shape on the table. Then I said, “Hey, before things get crazy here, do you mind watching the table for a minute? Nature calls.”

  “Sure. What do I do?”

  “If someone approaches the table, hand them a flyer and kinda read out the points that state why they should vote for me.” I shot him a faux-stern stare. “And look like you believe it.”

  He sent me a zealous look back; I wasn’t sure if it was “faux” or not. “I do believe it,” he said. “What does the flyer say anyway?” He held one up and made a show of squinting at it like he couldn't make it out.

  “Ha ha,” I said. I knew Marlow had the best vision on the planet, despite the glasses he often wore.

  Just as I was pushing on the women’s restroom door, I caught the sound of two guys talking, and heatedly. I peaked around the corner to see Wyatt arguing with Isaac.

  “Stay away from her!”

  “Cool down, man. We’re just friends.”

  “Then stop being friends. She's my girlfriend.” Wyatt shoved Isaac’s shoulder. “Just keep your distance!”

  “I can be friends with whoever I want. You’re not married to her. You don't own her.” Isaac spun away toward the crowd leaving Wyatt to glare after him.

  I headed into the restroom thinking that there was trouble in that corner. When I returned to the table, Marlow was busily talking with several people at once, and seemed like he was enjoying himself. Maybe he should be running for government. I didn't want to interrupt him and break the spell, so I waited until his conversation was over before joining him behind the table. “You’re like a duck in water here.”

  “Don't be fooled. I hate talking to strangers.”

  “Well, good job at disguising that fact.””

  He smiled crookedly down at me in the a way that made my knees feel weak. “I suppose it's part of my covert spy training.”

  Which reminded me of our connection to CISUE and the agreement Marlow and I had made. "I wonder when they’ll call us in to wipe memories.”

  “Probably not until this case is solved.”

  Our attention was snagged by a commotion in the middle of the lobby. Screams echoed from the high ceiling as people scrambled behind the thick pillars or dropped to the floor.

  Marlow grabbed my hand and yanked me down behind the table. "Not again," he groaned just as I spotted the source of the trouble.

  Our hockey mask villain was back. He waved his gun erratically, sparking more screams and sobs. Apparently he hadn’t been injured too badly by the knife I’d thrown.

  I whispered to Marlow, "What should we do?”

  Before he could answer a gunshot was fired. Marlow took off like a track star.

  “Marlow!” What did he think he was doing? He might be able to catch the guy, but this wasn’t The Matrix. He couldn’t dodge bullets.

  I followed, but then stopped in my tracks. Blood. A body. People stunned to silence and staring.

  Wyatt Banks lie dead in a pool of blood.

  Stella’s scream ripped through the eerie quiet. I searched the faces looking for his pal Isaac, but couldn’t see him anywhere.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Marlow

  Mayhem erupted in the student building lobby. Near panic by some, and for others the opportunity to video the crime. I had no doubt that the incident had already been delivered to personal blogs and Facebook and Twitter feeds. I pushed through the crowds to get to Sage.

  “Did you see him?” she asked.

  “No. He's gone.”

  We stood shoulder to shoulder staring at Wyatt Bank’s corpse.

  “I saw him arguing with Isaac earlier,” she said.

/>   “Did you hear what they were arguing about?”

  “Pretty sure it was about Stella. Wyatt didn't like how friendly Isaac and Stella were becoming.”

  Her statement made me think about Dakota and how I knew she’d felt with Sage on the sidelines all the time.

  “Where is Isaac now?” I asked.

  Sage scanned the lobby. “I've tried to find him, but he's not here.”

  I tapped her elbow. “Let’s go look for him.”

  We needed to leave quickly before the campus police arrived and held us back for questioning.

  Wyatt and Isaac lived in the same dorm building as me. Sage and I hopped campus transit and got there in under five minutes. We hurried through the front door asking everyone we saw if they knew where Isaac Cavanaugh was. No one did.

  News of the shooting had spread. The guys floating through the lounge area were tied to their phones, flipping through the DU news feeds.

  “Wyatt Banks was just killed in the student building!”

  “The shooter wore a hockey mask!”

  “No one saw him leave, like, he vanished into thin air!”

  Rob Hooper’s bald-shaved head snapped up at the news. “Is that why you're asking for Isaac? He hasn’t heard?”

  “Yeah.” I said. “Do you know where he is?”

  Rob shook his head. “Sorry, man.”

  Sage followed me upstairs to the room on the second floor that Isaac shared with Wyatt. I pounded on their door, but it was quiet on the other side and no one answered. “I don't think he's here.”

  “Where else could he be?”

  “The library?” It was exam week.

  “Let’s go.”

  There was a soft buzz of murmuring amongst the students in the library. They weren't studying because they were all looking at their phones. We finally found Isaac at a table in the back, laptop open, headphones on. He seemed blissfully and conveniently unaware of the news everyone else was talking about.

  I poked him in the shoulder and he jumped as if he was legitimately startled.

  “You heard?”

  Isaac slouched languidly. “Heard what?” His eyes moved from me to Sage. “Oh the lovely Sage is here. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Wyatt is dead,” she said.

  His gaze flickered from Sage to me, his stiff grin gradually fading. He was a convincing actor, but sociopaths often are.

  “Are you joking?”

  “No. I’m really sorry,” Sage said.

  Isaac’s expression grew confused. “But I was just with him.”

  I noted how he didn't ask what happened. Though he appeared stunned, he didn't exactly seem grief-stricken.

  Sage came to the same conclusion. “Aren't you going to ask us how he died?”

  “Of course. I’m just so shocked. I can't believe Wyatt is gone. What happened?”

  Sage proceeded to tell him about the shooting.

  Isaac took his time to process this news. It was hard to tell if he was sincerely flabbergasted or planning his next move.

  “That really sucks.”

  “Where were you, Isaac, twenty minutes ago?” Sage asked.

  Isaac held a hand to his chest—a sign of offense, or protecting a tender stab wound?

  “I've been right here for the last forty-five minutes. I didn't kill him. He was my friend.”

  “You don’t look that upset about it,” I said

  “It hasn't really hit me yet. Everyone grieves in their own way. Now if you don't mind I'd like to get back to my studies.” Isaac flipped his headphones back on his ears and tuned us out.

  “What do you think of that?” I said in a near whisper as we left him.

  Sage twisted a strand of her dark hair around her slender finger, a move I found rather distracting.

  “He’s either a very good actor or mentally disturbed and completely lacks empathy.”

  I snapped back to attention. “He claims he wasn’t there,” I said. “And maybe he wasn’t there as Isaac. He could’ve teleported in and out as the masked man.”

  “Most of the student body wasn’t there,” Sage said. “Every male student not in the lobby would have to be included as suspects.”

  “True.”

  “Say Isaac is our teleportation genius,” Sage said. She leaned up against the bookshelves in the psychiatry section. “Maybe he’s crazy enough to kill his friend over a tiff with a girl. But why would he kill Rudy?”

  “Maybe Rudy did something to offend him. He wasn't the most amiable guy. I'm sure he'd offended most people that he'd encountered on campus."

  “He was a jerk,” Sage agreed. “I have to wonder why Professor Garvin hired him?”

  “He was academically and intellectually qualified for the job,” I said.

  “Still doesn’t give Isaac motive to kill Rudy.”

  “That we’re aware of. And Isaac was besotted with Crystal Morrisette.”

  “How do you know that?” Sage asked

  “I saw him…” I didn’t want to reveal how the guys behaved when Wyatt was showing her latest picture around. “If Isaac is intelligent enough to develop a teleportation system, and if he wanted Crystal, maybe he used his technology to track her down and inserted himself in her life. She may have fought back, or maybe she played him, but whatever the case, his ego was wounded.”

  “So he killed her,” Sage said.

  “Maybe he just wanted to scare her.”

  “Then he got nervous and decided he needed a gun so he broke into the pawn shop to steal one,” Sage said. “That was when he stole the old hockey mask.”

  “But what about the stutter?” I said. “Isaac didn’t have any trouble talking just now.”

  Sage nodded slowly. “Maybe the stutter is an immediate after effect of teleportation and wears off.”

  We continued walking. “Whoever it is, his aggressive nature is accelerating. He's moved from maiming to stabbing to shooting,” I said.

  Sage poked me in the arm. “Don't forget he has his sights set on you. He must’ve figured out somehow that you were the one in his shed that night.”

  I watched Sage with a sense of regret and fear. I hated that she was pulled into these dangerous situations with me, but I felt helpless. I didn't know how to protect her.

  “Are you all right, Marlow?”

  Before I could answer we rounded the American history section and came across Zed and Dakota sitting at one of the dark wood library tables together. This wasn't an unusual situation since the three of us hung out quite a lot at the library and Zed and Dakota had become friends, but this time instead of sitting across the table from each other like they usually did, they sat closely on the same side.

  I couldn’t keep the irritation from my voice. “Don't you two look cozy?”

  Zed jerked back, jaw dropping, but said nothing.

  “Such a surprise to see you here with, Sage,” Dakota snapped back. “Hi, Sage.”

  Sage's eyes darted to me with caution before responding. “Hey, guys.”

  Zed found his tongue. “Hey.” He shifted his chair a couple inches back from Dakota. As if that would make a difference. He tried to diffuse the awkward situation by changing the topic. “Have you heard about the shooting in the student building?”

  “We were both there,” Sage said.

  Dakota mumbled under her breath. “Of course you were.”

  “I was helping Sage with her campaign,” I said tersely, “since you didn’t show.”

  Dakota answered dryly, “So nice of you.”

  A slow simmering anger boiled in my stomach as we left the library. But strangely, I wasn't mad at Dakota. I was mad at Zed.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Sage

  By the time we left the library the whole campus was on lockdown. Security sealed all of the exits and the police had cruisers stationed there to question anyone trying to get in or out. Every person known to have been in the student building was required to give a statement to the police. I had the
unfortunate luck of being interviewed by Detective Landsky.

  “You again?” he said, mustache twitching. “How is it that I always find you in the middle of everything?”

  “It was purely coincidental that I was here,” I said. “I’m running for a student government seat and today was the last rally to encourage students to come and vote. That's why there were more than the usual number in attendance. The hall isn't normally this busy at this time of day.”

  “I see. Miss Farrell, are you in possession of a Smith & Wesson 9mm Shield?”

  “No, sir. I don't own any guns.”

  "That wasn't what I asked. Are you in possession of a Smith & Wesson 9mm Shield?”

  “No.”

  He studied me with his beady eyes. “You realize that you are still under investigation for the death of Crystal Morrisette right? The fact that you are out on bail does not equate to an acquittal.”

  So much had happened since the night of the bush party, by now the whole event felt like a rumor about someone else and not an awful accident that happened to me.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He petted his mustache and I had to wonder if there was a woman in his life, and if so, why she hadn’t insisted he shave the damn thing off.

  “Do you have anything to add?” he asked.

  I huffed. “Obviously I didn't kill Wyatt Banks because I was in the room with the shooter.”

  “I understand that, but we haven't ruled out the possibility that the shooter might have an accomplice. The security footage from the incident at Harvey’s Pub shows that you were there too and for some inexplicable reason you fled the scene without giving your statement.” He looked at me with disapproval. “So you see what I'm saying, right?”

  I could only nod.

  “We still don't know what happened there exactly, except that we have a witness that said a woman threw a knife, causing the shooter to drop to the ground. That was the last they saw of both the woman and the shooter.”

  “If I was working with the shooter, why would I throw a knife at him?” I said snidely. “Hypothetically?”