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

by Lee Strauss

  And honestly? Dead rats weren’t really my thing, either.

  “Marlow.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Hold onto your shorts.” I opened the freezer and identified the frozen food section. The ropy tail of a frost-covered furry creature was front and center.

  “Why are you doing this again?” Zed asked.

  “I told you.”

  “Oh, right. To impress Virtual Girl. Someone you haven’t even met.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. I’d met her before.

  Whatever.

  I grabbed the cold tail and grimaced. I quickly made my way to the snake and held it over the case, hoping the fear I felt wasn’t all over my face. The snake moved.

  “Take it!”

  Zed laughed. “Got it, scaredy-cat.”

  “You’re one to talk. I don’t see you over here posing as snake bait.” I tossed the rat back into the freezer and washed my hands in the sink. With extra soap.

  Zed cocked a bushy eyebrow. “We done here?”

  I slapped my hands together. “We are so done here.”

  Zed sent me the pic and I studied it on my laptop. The expression on my face wasn’t exactly cool. I looked like I was trying to hold in a fart. If Teagan wasn’t convinced that I was a dork of the highest order by now, she would be when I sent her this. But I had to. I promised.

  @averagegeek99: Snake pic delivered. Fear faced. Your turn next.

  @art4ever: What pic?

  I was surprised by her rapid response. I didn’t think she’d get this until later.

  @averagegeek99: Me and snake with cold dead rat.

  @art4ever: I didn’t get it. Send again.

  I uploaded the photo again. Confirmed it was delivered.

  @averagegeek99: Got it now?

  @art4ever: Nope.

  This was really strange. Unless she was fibbing. But why would she do that? That picture was sure to rock her world!

  At least make her laugh a little.

  I sent it again, but she still said she didn’t get it.

  @averagegeek99: Don’t know why it’s not working. You should’ve gotten it. But trust me, it happened! I have a witness.

  @art4ever: Oh? Who would that be?

  @averagegeek99: My roommate, Zed.

  @art4ever: Zed?

  @averagegeek99: Like Zee, but with a Canadian accent.

  @art4ever: Does he have a beard?

  Why would she ask that? Did she have a thing for beards? I scrubbed my chin. I supposed I could grow one. Last time I tried it was pretty patchy.

  @averagegeek99: Yeah, actually. He’s quite hairy. Like a tall, skinny gorilla. Why? Do you like bearded men?

  @art4ever: Can I ask you a question?

  Didn’t I just ask one? Did she like bearded guys? Did she like tall, skinny gorillas?

  @averagegeek99: Shoot.

  @art4ever: Are you gay? I mean, it’s not my business, but I don’t think it’s right for us to spend this much time chatting if you have a boyfriend.

  My ears exploded with the sound of my chair screeching across the floor as I impulsively pushed away from my desk. Did the earth just split? Did she seriously just ask me that?

  @averagegeek99: God, no! Why would you ask me that? Did I say something that sounded gay? Believe me, I wouldn’t be chatting this much with you every night if I wasn’t into girls.

  @art4ever: I’m sorry. It’s just that I thought I saw you with someone today. Someone whose description matches Zed’s. By the econ building.

  @averagegeek99: I was with Zed, but we were in the science complex at one of the labs. Taking snake pictures. Trust me, it was anything but romantic.

  @art4ever: Ugh. I feel like such an idiot.

  I didn’t feel that great either. There was only one way to settle this.

  @averagegeek99: Do you want to meet in person? I mean, before the big storm and you’re alone with me in my dorm. Let’s meet for coffee.

  @art4ever: That’s a good idea. We’re both students here, and I feel like I know you, more or less, already. The one by the library?

  We set a time for the next afternoon.

  @averagegeek99: See you then!

  I went to the mirror and studied my image. Did I really have a doppleganger out there? Surely one Marlow Henry in the world was enough. I coughed nervously into my hand. Soon I’d be meeting the lovely Teagan in person. I just hoped I wasn’t a huge disappointment.

  14

  

  Teagan

  “Mom, everything is fine.” Teagan blew bangs out of her eyes as she waited for her mother’s maternal worry rant to end. “Yes,” she promised her. “They’ve beefed up security.”

  Teagan cyber-visited with her mom once a week. It was the deal she made to prevent her from calling Teagan. Every. Single. Day. After Vanessa Rothman’s rape, her mom had gone ballistic and threatened to pull her out of college. Teagan managed to calm her down but her concerns came up at the end of their sessions, regardless.

  “Never walk alone, especially at night!”

  “Of course not, Mom. I have Sage, too.”

  Her mom was an older version of Teagan, but more beautiful. Striking, really. Teagan had seen guys of all ages stare at her mother as she walked by. She couldn’t count how many times she’d heard that they looked like sisters.

  “That attack was a one-time thing,” Teagan said. “They caught the guy. It’s perfectly safe here now.”

  “Speaking of guys.” Her mom drew out her sentence with a wink. “Anyone interesting?”

  “There are a lot of cute guys at DU, Mom.”

  “No one special yet?”

  Teagan sighed. Jake seemed to have moved on to Nora already and her mother would freak if she told her how much time she spent chatting online with someone she hadn’t even met. “No. No one special yet.”

  The glimmer left her mother’s eyes. “That’s good. You have lots of time before you get entangled with anyone. Lots of time.”

  “Yes, I know, Mom.” They’d had variations of the conversation countless times.

  Her mom’s eyes darted downward repeatedly, like she was checking the time or something. “Do you have to be somewhere?” Teagan asked.

  Her gaze met Teagan’s and the earlier shimmer of excitement in her eyes seeped out. “Yes, I have an appointment. I hate to run, sweetie.” Her mouth stretched out into a smile but it seemed forced. “You have a great day.”

  “You too, Mom. Talk to you next week.”

  Her mom’s arm filled the screen as she reached over to disconnect their call. A tiny black knot of worry worked itself in Teagan’s gut. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with her mom. She couldn’t pinpoint when her concern started, years ago maybe, a slow gradual awareness that her mother might be keeping something from her and her dad, the way she swung from happiness to melancholy on a dime. Teagan asked her father about her once and he only shrugged, saying that was just the way she was. Teagan thought she heard him mumble the word “hormones.”

  Teagan suspected her mother’s appointment was with a shrink. Every time she’d tried probing in the past about where her mom was or what she was doing, she always blew Teagan off. Teagan finally stopped asking. It wasn’t her business, anyway, she supposed.

  Teagan’s laptop chimed and she grinned like a silly school girl when she saw Marlow’s handle pop up on her chat screen. They would be meeting in person in less than two hours. She ran a hand through her messy locks, feeling a sudden urgency to clean up and look good for Marlow. But first she had to see what he wanted. She hoped he wasn’t canceling.

  @averagegeek99: In case you don’t recognize me, I’ll be the one with a nerdy knitted sweater and eating an oatmeal raisin cookie.

  A swoosh of relief flooded her. Their “date” was still on. She tapped rapidly on the keys.

  @art4ever: Raisins?

  @averagegeek99: Don’t tell me you’re one of those.

  @art4ever: One of what?

  @averagegeek99: A
raisin hater—that’s fruit discrimination.

  Teagan couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head.

  @art4ever: It’s dried fruit discrimination. Totally allowed.

  @averagegeek99: Ah, I think I missed that memo.

  @art4ever: You have to get up early to keep up.

  @averagegeek99: But what of my beauty sleep?

  @art4ever: It’s the price you have to pay.

  Teagan didn’t know how it happened, but time just seemed to fly by whenever she was online with Marlow. Chatting with him was just so natural and easy. Before she knew it she was down to less than an hour before they were supposed to meet, and she didn’t even have her face on!

  @art4ever: Gotta run but see you soon.

  @averagegeek99: Can’t wait.

  She spent the next twenty minutes rifling through her clothes, the piles on the floor and the ones poking out from her drawers. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous, but she wanted to look just right. Not too stuffy, or too shabby. Teagan finally settled on a pair of skinny jeans and a red button-down blouse. She decided to let her hair hang loose, borrowing Sage’s iron to straighten her locks. The heat of the iron made the blue streak shimmer.

  She put on a tan faux-leather bomber jacket, adding a cream-colored woolen scarf around her neck and black knee-high boots with a one-inch heel zipped up over her jeans.

  Sage entered just as she was about to leave. She scanned Teagan with her dark, insightful eyes. “Where are you off to in a hurry.”

  “Nowhere.” Sage squinted hard and Teagan knew she could tell she was lying. “I mean, I’m meeting a friend for coffee.”

  Sage placed a hand on her skinny hip. “Dressed like that I’d guess a male friend?”

  Teagan mimicked her by propping out a hip and cupping it with her hand. “Maybe.”

  Sage grinned. “You look good. Knock him dead and be prepared to tell me all about it when you get back. I’d grill you now but I’m in a hurry. I promised Nora I’d go into the city with her.”

  Hearing about Sage’s plans with Nora put an instant damper on her mood. Sage and Teagan had spent years hanging out with just each other. They grew up as neighbors. It was time, as Sage repeatedly said, for them to spread their own wings.

  Teagan flapped her arms as she walked down the hall to the exit. This was her, flying.

  Arriving right on time, Teagan scanned the busy shop for Marlow who should be wearing a wool sweater and eating an oatmeal raisin cookie. Someone eyeing the door waiting for her. She searched each table, but no one matched his description.

  Teagan pushed down the disappointment of having arrived first. Usually she was the late one. Marlow would blow through the door any minute. It would be easy to spot him when he did.

  She ordered a hot tea and a chocolate chip oatmeal cookie—just to meet him halfway on the cookie selection. Then, before her order was complete, she ordered a coffee and an oatmeal raisin cookie for him. This first encounter could be her treat, and if that made him uncomfortable, he could pay her back. Either way, it would save them the awkward moments with her waiting at a table while he stood in line.

  Minutes ticked by as Teagan picked at her cookie and sipped on her tea. Her phone lay on the table and she continually tapped it, checking the time. At fifteen minutes past the hour, her face tightened into a frown. By twenty after, her stomach juices started to swirl. Her neck grew hot, and she removed her scarf, scratching nervously at the exposed skin. She finally pulled up the chat forum on her phone and messaged him. The message bounced back, which was odd. She didn’t know any other way to contact him.

  Teagan stared at Marlow’s untouched coffee and cookie. Was she seriously getting stood up?

  She waited a full hour, feeling embarrassed as students passed by, eyeing the empty seat and one empty tea cup. People waited by the door searching for a place to sit. Teagan cleared her spot knowing her face was twisted in a scowl. The second she stepped away, her table was scooped up by a happy couple holding hands. She kept her eyes averted as she stormed out into the cool autumn evening.

  Stupid tears ran down her face, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. For once she was glad Sage was away. Teagan hated that she was expecting some kind of juicy story from her and once again she had nothing but bitter disappointment and humiliation to offer.

  Sage was her best friend. She wouldn’t make her feel bad. In fact, she’d come up with ten evil ways to retaliate. They’d laugh, knowing they’d never act on her ideas, and Teagan would promise never to chat with Marlow Henry again.

  Teagan didn’t think she’d fall asleep, but there was nothing like a good cry to wear a person out and dip them into la-la land. All fine except she had the dream again. The nightmare. It was dark and she was running, running, running, out of breath, lungs burning, heart beating in her ears. Her faceless pursuer was stronger than she was, and faster. He wanted her. He wanted to hurt her. Teagan pumped her arms and dodged through bushes and trees, branches scratching her face and arms. She couldn’t out-maneuver him. He grabbed her ponytail, jerking her backward.

  She awoke with a scream.

  The next morning it was all over the campus news. Another girl had been raped. This time she didn’t survive.

  Her throat closed up as one shallow word escaped: Marlow.

  15

  

  Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t catch me. I’m the Gingerbread Man.

  The nursery rhyme would forever remind him of his father and trigger frosty threads of fear that rippled through his veins even now.

  It was the tune his old man would sing in a low, menacing whisper, late at night once his mother had passed out after her fourth shot of bourbon. His dad’s massive frame would fill his bedroom door before he stepped into the glow of the Spiderman nightlight that cast a long ghostly shadow along the floor and cut sharply up the wall.

  The tune was like a war siren to his young ears. His father would make just enough space for him to escape into the hallway and down the steps, and after singing through it for the third time, the chase would be on.

  His little boy feet raced as fast as they could down the stairs, his heart thundering like a blow horn in his ears, his hand picking up slivers along the rough edges of the railing.

  He didn’t even feel the pinch of the short splinters. A far worse pain was in store for him. This was a certainty. The only question was how long he could delay the inevitable. And he’d learned from experience that if he didn’t play the game, make the hunt exciting for his dad, the outcome would be even worse.

  In those days, their house sat on the edge of town. The city had since sprawled, swallowing up their rural neighborhood with a cookie-cutter, boxy-house suburb, but in his youth, there was a forest beyond their wooden fence.

  When the game first began, he’d sought out hiding places in the house—a linen closet, under the sofa, even downstairs in the absolutely terrifying dark, musky cellar. It didn’t take him long to figure out that he had to get further than the walls of their house. The problem was the distance from the back door to the fence. His legs were too short and his father’s stride too long. His heart pounded so hard he thought his ears were bleeding. His face grew wet with tears and snot, and he screamed every time his father caught him and wrapped a beefy palm over his face to suppress his cries, nearly suffocating him. His dad carried him under his arm like a sack of flour, back to the house and down the steps to the cellar.

  That was where the belt would come off.

  He hated the musky damp scent of old cold rooms. He hated his old man.

  Eventually, he grew tall enough and fast enough to outrun his dad, losing him in the welcoming darkness of the forest, able to climb tall pines out of reach and out of sight.

  It was there that he vowed to kill his dad one day.

  He was still scared of the old bastard. Though they were now the same height, his father outweighed him by fifty pounds. He was big, strong and mean.

&nbs
p; A liar and a cheater.

  He wondered if his mother ever knew about the other woman? Maybe that was why she’d started drinking?

  Didn’t matter now.

  He hadn’t planned to kill the last girl. Not really, though he had played with the idea more than once. He’d just gotten carried away, but now he could see that the killing had been a dry run for his dad. Watching her gasp for breath, her eyes glossy with fear, and the awareness that the end of her existence was in his control gave him a sense of empowerment. He wasn’t the weak, helpless little victim any more. He was the Gingerbread Man.

  One day he’d kill his old man, but for now he had someone better. He’d made a fortuitous discovery. The whore’s daughter was a student at Detroit University. He’d been watching her.

  He grinned as he sipped the beer in his hand, his mind slowly tuning back into the bar noise and activity around him. This would be his first real hunt. He just had to think of a way to lure her to him.

  16

  

  Marlow

  @averagegeek99: Where were you?

  @averagegeek99: You did say the coffee shop by the library, didn’t you?

  @averagegeek99: Is there more than one?

  @averagegeek99: I don’t know what happened, but I’m really sorry I missed you.

  I wrote to Teagan in the morning before class. My knees jiggled as I sat in front of my laptop, waiting. I wanted to be pissed off and accuse her of playing mind games, but a female student had died off campus. Blond. Freshman. They weren’t giving out her name until next of kin was identified.

  What if it was her?

  “Hey man,” Zed said, sipping noisily on his green drink. “We’re going to be late.”