Gingerbread Man: A Marlow and Sage Mystery (A Nursery Rhyme Suspense Book 1)

by Lee Strauss

  “Hey, everyone!” Sage said while taking an empty seat. “This is Teagan.” Teagan took the last chair beside her and waved limply. “Teagan, this is everyone.”

  Teagan smiled but wished that Sage had taken the trouble to tell her actual names. Teagan covertly examined each face, giving the guys an extra moment as she tried to discern if any of them could be averagegeek99. She stared when they looked off to the side, but even their profiles didn’t give her enough clues.

  Hmm. It occurred to her that averagegeek99 knew what she looked like by her profile pic, but there would be no way she could pick him out in a crowd based on his. She’d have to rely on him recognizing her and making introductions.

  Sage whispered in her ear. “Why are you staring like that?”

  “I’m staring?”

  “Yes. It’s weird.”

  “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

  Teagan reverted to gazing at her hands. Finally, a server came and she ordered a coke. The conversation at the table moved from math to movies to sports. Two of the math whizzes also played hockey for the university team. Full scholarships. Teagan knew this because one of the guys, Chet (Sage had addressed him as such), told them. Twice, in case they missed it the first time. His dark eyes kept cutting to Teagan and shifting away when she caught him looking.

  “Teagan Lake, right?”

  Teagan’s head popped up at the mention of her name. “What?”

  The guy next to her waved a hand in front of her face, and his mouth pulled up into an amused smile. “Over here.”

  She glanced at him cautiously. “How do you know my last name?”

  “I’m in your philosophy class. I sit behind you. I’m Jake Wentworth.”

  He held out his hand and Teagan stared at it for a second before it clicked that he wanted her to shake it. “Oh, hi.”

  She couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her lips. Jake was attractive, and he smelled good. Maybe he was her cute, well-rounded, thoughtful guy. They talked a little about the class and how much they liked Professor Madsen, but then his attention went back to the other guys at the table and the subject of hockey, which she knew nothing about and therefore was ill-equipped to contribute to the conversation further.

  Teagan found herself searching the sea of faces beyond their table, wondering if one of them belonged to averagegeek99. She waited for some sign of recognition. A connected gaze that lasted a moment longer than necessary, but alas, there was nothing so romantic as that.

  Jake nudged her arm and she spent the rest of the evening chatting with him about mundane things. The experience was surprisingly pleasant until Chet threw a peanut at Jake to get his attention. It ricocheted off the table and hit her in the forehead.

  “Ow!”

  “Jerkwad!” Jake said. Then to Teagan, “Are you okay?”

  She pressed two fingers against her forehead and forced a small laugh. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just an accident.”

  She glanced up across the table at Chet, expecting to see an expression of surprise and remorse. Instead, his dark gaze narrowed before he quickly looked away.

  What was his problem?

  Teagan turned to Sage and pleaded with her eyes to please go home. Sage stiffened under her less than subtle stare.

  “Okay, fine,” she finally said. “We’ll go.”

  5

  

  Marlow

  For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about art4ever. Her profile picture was cute, but you couldn’t trust those. For all I knew, she pulled the photo offline and she didn’t look like that at all. But I couldn’t complain since mine wasn’t even gender-definable, apparently. I needed to change it, but the God-honest truth? I was afraid she wouldn’t show up for our meeting tonight if she knew what I really looked like.

  I took a selfie without my glasses, but had to put them on to see what the photo looked like. Okay, I guess, but not handsome by any stretch of the imagination. Hiding my unremarkable mug behind black plastic frames wasn’t a bad idea. I took another selfie with the glasses on, purposefully making a funny face. I might look like a joker, but at least I now looked like a guy.

  We weren’t meeting up until 8:00, so I spent time in the library studying the plasma membrane of animal cells and drank more coffee than was good for me. I made it home three minutes after the hour which was fine. I didn’t want to appear too eager. I’d learned from experience that girls fled the scene if a guy came on too strong.

  Actually, they fled any scene I was in as if they had geek alert apps embedded in their brains. This girl seemed different. She was already aware by my handle that I was a self-proclaimed geek, and she had contacted me first.

  One could always hope.

  @averagegeek99 to @art4ever: Are you there?”

  @art4ever: I’m here. You changed your profile pic! Nice glasses!

  I chuckled. This chick was cool.

  @averagegeek99: Thanks. They complement my nose. At least that’s what I’m told.

  @art4ever: My roommate wears frames for fun, too. She’s also self-conscious of her nose.

  @averagegeek99: I can’t say I find wearing them fun, but they do the trick. How was your weekend?

  @art4ever: Good. We went to a pub with friends.

  @averagegeek99: We?

  She never mentioned a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

  @art4ever: My roommate and me. She studies math and technology, so I generally find the conversation she has with her other friends hard to follow. Mostly, the talk was about the Bluewings.

  That made me laugh.

  @averagegeek99: It’s the Redwings. Honest mistake since you’re not from here. Nor, apparently, a sports fan.

  @art4ever: I suck at sports. But I’m pretty sure they called the hockey team the Bluewings.

  Okay. Certainly not a point to get into an argument over.

  @averagegeek99: So @art4ever, tell me about yourself. Besides the fact that you are an art student from Illinois.

  @art4ever: I feel like we’re speed dating. Lol. Okay. Um. I’m an only child, so yes, my parents are overprotective and have given me every advantage. But, I’m not spoiled. Unless I am. It depends who you’re talking to. I like maple walnut ice cream, the color pink and the way wet clay feels in my hands as I shape it into something incredible.

  @art4ever: Your turn.

  @averagegeek99: I also am an only child, raised by a single mom. I dislike ice cream—too sweet—but love any flavor of potato chip. Even the weird ones like ketchup.

  @art4ever: Ketchup-flavored potato chips?

  @averagegeek99: Yeah. They ship them in from Canada. You’ll have to try them someday.

  @art4ever: I’ll try anything once.

  @averagegeek99: Anything?

  @art4ever: Well, within reason. I won’t try plastic surgery. What if my new nose turned out worse than my old one? Or suicide. Obviously.

  Obviously.

  @averagegeek99: What’s your favorite book?

  @art4ever: Harry Potter

  @averagegeek99: That’s a series, not a single book.

  @art4ever: I like to think about it as one long book. What’s yours?

  @averagegeek99: One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

  @art4ever: I couldn’t finish that book. Can we still be friends?

  I chortled and felt strangely warmed. She thought of me as a friend.

  @averagegeek99: Lol. Of course. And since we’re friends, is it okay if I ask you your first name? Mine is Marlow.

  I figured first-name basis should be okay, but when she didn’t respond right away, I worried I’d overstepped. But then she finally answered.

  @art4ever: Teagan. Nice to meet you, Marlow.

  @averagegeek99: Nice name.

  @art4ever: Thanks. Anyway, I should go. Busy week ahead and I still have homework to do.

  @averagegeek99: Me too. See you around?

  @averagegeek99: In cyberspace, I mean.

  @art4ever: I’m here
most evenings.

  @averagegeek99: Great. Have a good rest of your evening. Marlow out.

  We were on first-name basis. She saw my mug shot and still wanted to chat again. Things were definitely looking up.

  The days were at best ordinary and crawled by. That was life when you took sleeper classes and hung out with dull people. The highlight of each day was my evening chat with Teagan. My dorm mates were starting to give me grief over it and called her my Virtual Girl.

  I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and squinted. So much monitor work was making me blind. My inbox announced a college social—no way was I going to that. I already knew most of the nerds here, anyway. We’d lived in the same Detroit neighborhood, gone to the same schools, ran from the same bullies.

  For amusement our geek gang had hung out in a rather large selection of abandoned houses and factories. My buddies and I would discuss molecular science as we balanced along cement ridges, watching the cool guys from a distance with a mix of envy and revulsion as they got high and groped girls.

  I didn’t have brothers or a dad to guide me. My friend and roommate Zed Zabinski (born Arnold, but insisted everyone called him Zed. Not Zee. The Zabinski family originated from some small town across the border and Zed was a nod to his Canadian roots) wasn’t exactly a manly-man role model either. We were the blind leading the blind, both figuratively and literally. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose again. I hated humidity.

  It wasn’t that I was bitter.

  Okay, maybe a little. Zed and I had gotten the short stick, no question about it. We lacked conventionally attractive looks. We were too skinny, too smart and socially challenged. Plus we were poor. If not for my scholarship, I’d be flipping burgers somewhere.

  I was a freshman in college and had never been with a girl. And no, I don’t count that sloppy encounter with Reba Jones for Seven Minutes of Heaven in Brendon Herbert’s basement closet in sixth grade.

  Detroit University had a student Facebook page. I didn’t really see the point in “liking” it. So far it only announced weekend keggers and jock practice times. “Come cheer on your team!”

  I planned to keep my nose to the grindstone and graduate in four years—if I could survive college life, that was.

  Zed entered our dorm room with a couple Cokes in hand. “It’s crazy out there, but I think, you know, maybe not as bad as we thought.”

  Zed was the cautious optimist of our duo. I accepted the soda with a doubtful glance. “I hope you’re not suggesting we go to the fall social.”

  He sat at his desk hitting the edge with his knobby knees, and spilled Coke on his crotch. “Dang! And of course not. Guys who go to events like that eat guys like us alive.”

  An optimist with a healthy dose of reality. I averted my eyes as Zed removed his soiled jeans and awkwardly hopped into a pair of sweats. He made this ordinary task seem difficult and it was hard to watch. I closed my eyes. “Okay, Marlow Henry,” I thought to myself, “this is your new reality. Let’s make the most of it.”

  “Gotta head out,” I said. I stuffed my wallet into my pocket. “Outta supplies.”

  Zed snorted. “You buying toilet paper?”

  “Among other things. Like food.”

  “Bring me back something.”

  I stared at him over my glasses. “Show me the money.”

  Zed scooped some change from the top of his desk and filled my palm. “No tomatoes.”

  I returned a while later with grub. I threw the TP into the bathroom. We moved to the common lounge to eat. Our room was so small Zed and I would practically knock elbows if we ate in there.

  We were halfway through our sandwiches when Paul and Steve, fellow dorm nerds we met on the first night we moved in, blew into the common room all excited.

  “We were just leaving the library when a couple cop cars pulled up,” Paul said.

  I sat up. “What happened?”

  “A girl was raped in a the park behind the library. The university is under investigation.”

  “That’s terrible.” I checked my watch. Teagan time. I returned to my dorm room, logged into the chat room and waited. I grew antsy. Where was she? She was usually there this time of night. She hadn’t gone to the library this afternoon, had she?

  @averagegeek99 to @art4ever: Are you there?

  6

  

  Teagan

  The early morning sky was a wonderful wash of green—lime to moss—dotted with happy fluffy tangerine clouds: a great midweek day in Detroit City! Teagan said good-bye to Sage, who forked off into the direction of the math and tech classes, and strolled to her philosophy class feeling light-hearted and optimistic. She thought about Marlow. They had chatted together the last three nights. Maybe he was her cute, thoughtful, well-rounded guy? It didn’t matter that they met online. Lots of people did.

  Slow down, Teag, you’re getting ahead of yourself again.

  Jake Wentworth startled her when he slipped into the gray plastic chair beside hers.

  “Good morning,” he said with a twisted grin. “You don’t mind if I sit with you, do you?”

  Teagan sat with a straight back, the way her mother taught her, and smiled. “Not at all.” Now in the bright light of the lecture room she could see that Jake’s hair was a lighter blond than she’d first thought. His eyes were also a deeper blue. She inhaled his musky aftershave.

  Teagan could tell her eyelashes were blinking too quickly and a shiver of nerves ran down her spine. She’d never been pursued, if that’s what that was. She’d seen Jake before, he was kind of hard to miss, but had never given him a second thought. Guys like him didn’t usually pay attention to girls like her. Teagan’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She swallowed.

  Professor Madsen entered the hall and placed an old leather satchel on his desk. The class quieted while he took his usual stoic stance at the front of the room. He was young for a professor—she guessed late twenties. He moved stiffly like he needed oil for his knees. Except when he got excited about something Kierkegaard or Hegel said, then his body seemed to float across the platform. He oozed intellectualism and an odd sort of charisma, catching the eye of most of the girls and some of the guys too.

  Today, for the first time, the teacher’s aid desk was occupied. A male student with short dark hair wearing jeans and a black cardigan over a white T-shirt sat in the wooden chair. His fingers were propped over an open laptop, ready to take notes.

  Professor Madsen tilted his head forward, long dirty-blond curls falling over closed eyes and spoke. “What does it mean to be human?” He proceeded to elaborate on the evolving ideals regarding existence, fascinating stuff, but not enough to keep Teagan’s mind from wandering. Her eyelids grew heavy and she had the strongest impulse to lay her head on the table. Clearly, she’d been getting to sleep too late at night. Her nightly chats with Marlow had cut into her study time, forcing her to stay up later than normal. She’d have to tell him gently tonight that she couldn’t chat long. That was if he showed up. Teagan frowned a little at the thought that he might not. He couldn’t meet up every night, right? Already she was married to their routine. Marlow was fun. And safe.

  Teagan jumped at the sensation of a finger poke in her side. Jake whispered in her ear, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  Oh, God. How embarrassing. She almost fell asleep in Madsen’s class and in front of Jake! What if she’d started drooling, or worse, snoring? She reddened with the mortification of what could’ve been.

  After class, Jake surprised her by asking if she wanted to meet him for coffee later on. “You look like you could use a cup.”

  Teagan’s eyelids fluttered and she stared at the floor, hoping Jake didn’t notice.

  “I really should study.”

  He nudged her shoulder, causing her to look up. “So should I. We can study at the coffee shop.” Then he added his megawatt smile. “Come on. My treat.”

  It was hard to say no to those puppy dog eyes. “Okay.” He recited the time
and place, The Literary Latté near the library, and Teagan agreed to meet him there.

  She had some time before her next class so she decided to go back to her dorm. She told herself it was so she could prepare and go over her notes, but the truth was, she was thinking about a teeny, tiny nap.

  Sage was out as Teagan expected, and she sighed happily at being alone. She opened her laptop and was surprised to see a message there from Marlow. It was only midafternoon. She paused before clicking the message icon.

  @averagegeek99: Are you there?

  @averagegeek99: You probably heard about the rape. Just be careful. Okay?

  Oh, God! A rape? Teagan couldn’t believe it! Not at Detroit University. Her heart bounced around as she surfed the university website for news. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard about this. Was this not noteworthy enough for students to engage in discussion? Surely, the female students would be outraged.

  Teagan clicked through all the recent news bulletins. There was nothing more than an innocuous warning that bad weather might disturb the football practice.

  What was Marlow talking about then?

  @art4ever: Did you mean on campus? Or elsewhere? Thanks for the warning, anyway. I’m always very cautious.

  Teagan lay down and closed her eyes but her heart beat too strongly for sleep to come. Even though it was a false alarm, it got her adrenaline going. It made her think twice about meeting up with Jake. It was starting to get dark earlier now and maybe it just wasn’t safe.

  No. That was dumb. Jake was a nice guy. Not a stranger, like Marlow was. Jake was in her philosophy class. He had friends. Played on the hockey team. Besides, it was a false alarm. Detroit University was one of the safest colleges in America. It was the home of the grand car factories where most of the world’s supply of green autos were made. The rich had homes along the shores of Lake Erie and Lake St. Clair and along the banks of Detroit River. There were a lot of wealthy people here. The city had one of the lowest crime rates in America.