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

by Lee Strauss

  Marlow

  I hadn’t slept well since the date incident with Isaac Cavanaugh who turned out not to be the real danger. What stirred the cold fear in my belly was the fact that the unknown masked man hadn’t come for me, but for Sage.

  Why did he want her? How did he even know about her? It must’ve been me. He’d seen her with me and now she was in danger. I could barely stand myself for being responsible for putting Sage in this perilous situation.

  I became so manic about calling and texting her to make sure she was all right, hovering like her shadow when we were in the same room, that she actually told me to give her some space. If I’d hoped to win her over, I was losing ground on that front.

  So I was pleasantly surprised to see Sage’s name when my phone buzzed.

  Sage: Marlow, can you please meet me at the park bench outside the student building? I’ve got news.

  Marlow: When?

  Sage: Now. It’s important.

  My pulse quickened. I was tempted to text her back and ask for details, but if Sage felt it would be safe to do that she would have. Whatever information she’d gained was sensitive enough that she wanted to tell me in person. Thankfully I had forty minutes before my next class so there was time to head over to the park behind the student building.

  The park had no name as it was generally considered part of the campus grounds, and due to a lack of funds, grounds keeping had become low priority, which resulted in untrimmed bushes and hedges that grew wildly. Eventually a section of brush expanded around a lone rusty bench, like a horseshoe, and a lot of the student population didn’t even know the small alcove existed. Sage had discovered it with her work running for student council and had told me about it.

  From the urgency of Sage’s text I had expected her to be there already, but the bench was empty. I lowered myself onto it, planted my elbows on my knees and waited. A couple minutes later the bushes moved aggressively, opposing the direction of the wind, as if something was attempting to walk through it.

  I’d expected Sage to materialize and blinked as my mind registered that the person standing before me wasn’t Sage but the masked man. A new kind of fear gripped me.

  Jumping to my feet, I half-stumbled over the bench. “Hold on, man!” I said, not wanting to give the guy a chance to reach for me. My eyes darted around and behind him, searching for Sage ready to warn her.

  “Sh-she’s not coming, g-genius. The t-text you got was from m-me.”

  I was stunned. “You hacked my phone?” I really thought I’d put every safe-guard on it.

  “It wasn’t hard.”

  He took a step forward and I took a step back. “What do you want?”

  “I w-want c-credit!”

  “You’ll have it,” I said. “Once we know who you are.”

  He flipped his mask to the top of his head, revealing his pug-nosed face.

  “Harland?”

  He grinned at me like the cat who’d caught the mouse, ready to play a little before making the final kill. “Hiding in p-plain sight this whole t-time.”

  “But, I don’t get it. Why’d you kill Crystal Morrisette?”

  “I didn’t. Sage F-Farrell did that.”

  “You teleported her in front of Sage’s truck.”

  “I had no way of k-knowing exactly when S-Sage, or anyone for that matter, would be d-driving on that road. I thought everyone would b-be at the p-party. I only meant t-to t-teach her a lesson.”

  “What lesson would that be?”

  “Not t-to b-betray me! She was a ch-cheater and a liar. Wanted to m-make a b-big appearance at the p-party to b-boost her career. I thought a long w-walk would show her who’s b-boss.”

  “What about Rudy Finch?”

  “He gave me an unfair g-grade. He was j-jealous. My p-paper was eons b-better than anything he’s ever wr-written.”

  It was possible that was true, but Rudy hadn’t deserved to die for it.

  “And Wyatt Banks?”

  “He made f-fun of me.”

  “That’s it? You killed him for that?”

  “I’ve been t-teased and p-picked on my whole life! I’m b-better than him, b-better than all of you!”

  Harland hadn’t produced a weapon, he was only armed with his teleportation device. I supposed he didn’t want to draw attention by killing me here with a gun, or chance that a stab wound might not do the job.

  He had picked this place strategically. He stood between me and my exit. There was no way I could pass him without giving him an opportunity to grab me.

  “What did I ever do to you?” I asked.

  “You d-discovered my s-secret. My p-project. You st-stole my b-big moment. I wanted to sh-showcase it to the w-world at the New S-Scientist Innovation Award c-contest. They t-televise that now, you know? And with s-social m-media? Everyone w-would’ve heard about me. They’d remember my f-face and my n-name. I would’ve b-been s-someone!”

  I knew if I let him touch me I’d be dead.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Sage

  The weather had turned unusually warm again, so today felt more like an early spring day than late fall. Instead of speed-walking from class to class to escape the cold, students strolled casually and mingled about, like someone had turned the dial to slow-motion.

  I’d over-dressed, feeling hot under my winter coat and accessories, and removed my sky blue wool scarf and hat. I stuffed them into my bag as I shuffled through a mound of dry brown leaves, not paying attention to where I was going and accidentally bumped into someone.

  It was a shock to see Dakota’s face. “Oh, sorry!” I almost didn’t recognize her because her pink hair was now blue.

  “It’s fine.” She seemed surprised as well.

  “Your hair,” I said. “I like it.”

  “Thanks.” She pushed a strand of blue behind her ears. “It was time for a change.”

  I got the double meaning.

  “I’m sorry to hear about you and Marlow.”

  She cocked her head and raised a blond brow. “Are you really?”

  We stared at each other for a painful moment. We both knew the truth, and lying would just add insult to injury.

  “I am sorry that you’ve been hurt.”

  Dakota shrugged and kicked at the leaves. “I’m okay, actually.” She looked up again. “And I’m okay if you and Marlow are together.”

  “We’re not.”

  “It’s a matter of time, I suspect. But, I’m fine, really. Marlow always had eyes for you. Besides Zed and I are just a better fit.”

  “It’s official then?”

  “We’re going slow, but yeah.”

  It was such a relief to hear it. A genuine smile claimed my face. “I’m happy for you. You guys make a cute couple.”

  My phone rang and a quick look showed Jack’s name. Strange. He usually called Marlow.

  “I have to take this.”

  Dakota waved me off. “Sure, I’m meeting Zed at Java Junkie anyway.”

  I glanced across the street in time to see Zed arriving at the coffee shop and waved before answering. “Jack?”

  “Are you with Marlow?” His voice was tense and made me nervous.

  “No, why?”

  “He’s not responding to my calls. We got the analysis back on the paint chip. It was the kind used to paint images onto old hockey masks from the ‘70s.”

  “That ties the masked man to Rudy’s death.”

  “Yes. A hockey mask was stolen from the pawn shop. We showed the owner photos of every male science student currently attending or recently graduated from DU. He identified the man as Harland Payne.”

  I gasped. “He’s one of the science geeks that hangs out with Marlow!”

  “Marlow’s cell is pinging from behind the student building.”

  “There’s a small park there.”

  “Sage, I want you to stay where you are. My team and I are on our way.”

  “But I’m right here!”

  “It’s too dan
gerous.”

  He clicked off and I shook my head, astounded. All that clandestine training, and he wanted me to sit on my hands while Marlow might be in trouble? Hell, no.

  It took me about ten minutes to get from Java Junkie to the student building. I circled around the bushes and hedges that made the small park a haven for young lovers looking for a bit of privacy. It was also known for more nefarious activities involving the drug trade. I ducked low and peeked through the brush.

  Harland had Marlow trapped in the narrow end of the alcove. They were talking, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Marlow was likely trying to talk sense into him, but I knew that Harland was beyond reasoning. My pulse raced. There was no way Marlow could dodge Harland without brushing against him. Harland was inching closer and I knew he intended to take Marlow. Before I even knew what I was doing I picked up a stone, stepped out from behind the brush, and threw it expertly, hitting Harland square in the head.

  Harland yelled out, grabbed the back of his skull and dropped to his knees. Marlow tried to deke past, but Harland’s hand shot out and clasped Marlow’s ankle, bringing him down.

  I gasped, half expecting them to disappear before my eyes, but then I noticed Harland’s free hand was empty.

  I pounced on Harland. He yelped but let go of Marlow. Marlow jumped to his feet, just as Harland latched onto me. Harland held up his other arm. “I have it!”

  The teleporter device was in his hand.

  Marlow’s eyes filled with fear and he shouted, “No! It’s me you want. Take me!”

  “I want b-both of you!”

  I jabbed my elbow into Harland’s ribs hard, figuring I didn’t have anything to lose. Marlow sprang between us, securing my freedom.

  Then he disappeared before my eyes.

  “Marlow!”

  I buckled over, unable to breathe. Harland Payne was a cold-blooded murderer. Marlow was as good as dead. A sob escaped my lips.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Marlow

  I couldn’t let Harland teleport with Sage. Not that I thought he’d kill her—I believed he wanted to make her his new Crystal—but to save her soul. No one knew what really happened to a person on a spiritual or energy level after every single cell was disassembled. It was already too late for me. I jumped between Sage and Harland, effectively breaking his hold on her. I heard the sound of her screaming, then it suddenly cut to quiet.

  Awareness dawned slowly. The air smelt dank and musty. I squinted upward to narrow windows tucked in close to the ceiling, dirty and covered in cobwebs, letting in just enough light to illuminate a swirl of dust particles. I was tapped to a chair, trussed up like a turkey.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed. Ten minutes? An hour? More? The nerves in my wrists and ankles tingled from lack of circulation. My back clenched with stiffness, and the chloroform Harland had knocked me out with had given me a hell of a headache. To make it worse, my mouth was sealed with duct tape and the dust irritated my nose.

  How did I always manage to get into these kinds of situations?

  I pinched my eyes closed and willed the tickle to go away to no avail. The sneeze let go through my nostrils and my cranium exploded.

  I moaned as pain knocked about between my ears.

  Harland, dressed in all black, had the hockey mask pushed up on the top of his head. I wondered why he bothered wearing it, even half-way, at all. He sat huddled over a keyboard on a makeshift desk, and I recognized the stack of equipment that I now had the deepest respect for.

  My ankles were secured to an old wooden chair, probably as old as this cellar, but that didn’t stop my knees from jumping. Not only was my future not too bright, but I’d teleported for the second time. Twice dead. Was I on my way to crazydom like Harland Payne? At what point would the stutter kick in. Maybe it had already. I just hadn’t had a chance to test my voice out yet.

  Harland faced me and motioned to his equipment. “It’s a b-beaut, h-hey?”

  I nodded.

  “I b-b-bet you w-wish you inv-v-v-v…”

  Harland’s features twisted in frustration. He shouted in song, “INVENTED IT!”

  His eyes were wide and wild and flickered around the cellar and I doubted I had much time. The chair I was tied to was in the middle of the room—nothing behind me to rub the tape against to saw through it. Moving my hands in an effort to tear it just seemed to make the lack of circulation worse.

  Harland paced, pulling the mask back over his face. If it weren’t for his stutter, he’d probably be telling me how he discovered the key to teleportation, how the equipment worked. Bragging to someone who could understand what he was talking about would be so satisfying. This probably wasn’t how he’d pictured the preamble before killing me would go down. I worried he’d take his frustrations out on me, maybe with his fists or a loose board, but he raced up the steps instead, leaving me alone.

  I felt helpless. There had to be something I could do to get out of this fix. Think Henry, think!

  As best I could I shuffled toward the desk. Maybe Harland was in possession of a pair of scissors, or maybe I could figure out how to teleport myself out of here. The handheld device sat on the desk, drawing my eye like a beacon.

  Putting any kind of weight on my feet made me cry out in pain, a zillion fire ants biting every square inch of my feet and up my calves. My nose was dry and burned from breathing so hard through it. I was afraid it was going to start bleeding.

  All my efforts only bought me inches. The light in the room dimmed to darkness in the meantime. My throat was so dry that I felt dizzy from dehydration.

  How did I get in this situation? I trusted a phone text from Sage. I should’ve known it wasn’t her. Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t the way she talked. It was too formal. She would’ve called me Mars and never would’ve said please. If I was going to protect her, I had to up my game. I had to engage my senses, I had to pay attention.

  Oh no. My chest squeezed at a dark thought. Was that where Harland had gone? Had he gone after Sage?

  It was dark, but I could see well enough to judge that the distance between me and the device was about six feet. It might as well be six miles. I kept Sage’s face in my mind as I pushed through the pain. The space grew shorter—five feet, four feet, three. Almost there. But then what?

  The bulb suddenly lit, its brightness blinding me, and Harland’s footsteps thumped down the stairs.

  He had a bottle of water and drank it flauntingly. He wiped his mouth. “I n-n-needed to th-think.”

  At least Sage wasn’t with him. I grunted, pointing my chin to his bottle, begging with my eyes for a drink.

  He smirked and set the bottle down on the desk beside the device. He stared at the drag marks on the dirt floor. “G-going s-s-somewhere?” Then he sat down and woke up his monitor, turning it toward me so I could see it.

  He brought up a blank word processor document and typed:

  You stole my glory. You stole my fame. You stole my future. Now I’m going to steal from you.

  Sage’s beautiful face filled the screen. “M—m-mine.”

  “No!” It was a useless, wordless sound, but it made Harland laugh.

  He typed again:

  I have the co-ordinates for her bed in her dorm room. I will go to her tonight while she’s sleeping and take her. There is nothing you can do about it.

  He stared at me, the expression on his face clearly saying that he thought himself the victor. I huffed and puffed, but couldn’t blow his house down.

  More typing:

  How does it feel? To be helpless and alone? IT SUCKS, RIGHT? I WILL HAVE SAGE AND YOU WILL DIE.

  Harland reached into his pocket and produced a jack knife. I jerked back, impulsively keeping my chin down to protect my neck.

  Suddenly there was a crash and the thunder of boots on the steps. “Drop that knife!” a voice yelled. A SWAT team in heavy black vests burst into the cellar, taut arms stretched out front, guns pointed. The first man was Jack.


  Harland sprung behind me, snapped my head back and held the knife to my throat.

  “S-stay back!”

  Jack partially lowered his gun. “Calm down, Harland. We don’t want to hurt you.”

  “S-s-tay b-b-back! I’ll k-kill him.”

  Staring up over my head I could see the crazed look in Harland’s eyes. If he killed me, he’d be shot on the spot. I didn’t think Harland wanted to die just yet. His eyes darted to the handheld device on the desk. He loosened his grip on me and dashed for it.

  I threw all my weight sideways against my bonds. The chair tipped with me, crashing against the desk. As the chair and I hit the floor, the device went flying. Harland dove for it, knocking over the stack of equipment; the edge of the monitor came down on my ankle, white-hot pain shot stars across my vision, and I screamed.

  “We got him!” someone said. Agent Black had Harland Payne on the ground, facedown, nose pushed into the dirty floorboards.

  Jack rushed to me, carefully peeled the tape from my mouth, cut the tape from my ankles and wrists and helped me get upright again. I yelped as the blood returned to extremities.

  “Nice move,” he said.

  “Easy on my ankle,” I grunted.

  “Marlow!”

  I twisted toward Sage’s voice and I smiled through the pain. “Hey. Nice to see you.”

  Harland was taken away and a couple medics looked at my ankle, which was throbbing fiercely. They figured it was broken. Awesome. They brought down a stretcher and lifted me on it. With Sage there I tried to act tough, but it hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “Good work you guys,” Jack said to Sage and me. “Sage, I’ll make sure your name is cleared of all charges and that everyone knows that you had a hand in helping to catch the killer.”

  Sage and I shared a look of relief and satisfaction. We were a good team.

  “But now it’s time to go back to CISUE,” Jack said. “Our doctors will set your leg, Marlow, and then we need to complete the terms of our agreement.”