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

by Lee Strauss

  The question was why? Why her specifically? The police confirmed that the other two victims hadn’t received a similar message, which made them think this was probably a random prank. Did Teagan have any enemies? Any on-going disputes?

  No, she told them. She kept to herself. Was generally well-liked.

  It just didn’t make sense.

  Teagan startled when the message chime rang on her laptop. Was it him?

  A quick look alleviated her fears. Sort of. It wasn’t gingerbreadman, it was averagegeek99.

  She wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t the same person.

  @averagegeek99: Are you there? Please. I don’t know why you’re mad at me. I just need to know you’re okay.

  Why wouldn’t she be okay? Unless Marlow somehow knew about gingerbreadman? Maybe he wanted to warn her.

  @art4ever: Yes. I’m here and okay.

  @averagegeek99: This is going to sound weird, but I need you to confirm your identity. Quickly, so I know you’re not scrolling through old texts, what is my biggest fear?

  Teagan immediately began typing.

  @art4ever: Snakes.

  @averagegeek99: My roommate’s name?

  @art4ever: Zed.

  @averagegeek99: First joke?

  Marlow’s urgency was scaring her. Her fingers shook, and she had to backspace to correct spelling while simultaneously chastising herself—who cared about spelling?

  @art4ever: Knock, knock.

  @art4ever: Marlow, what’s up?

  @averagegeek99: Sorry. Don’t mean to freak you out.

  @art4ever: Too late.

  @averagegeek99: Something weird is going on. I can’t explain it, just, I thought you were in trouble.

  Teagan didn’t know what had shaken him up so badly but she felt the need to comfort him.

  @art4ever: I’m in my dorm. Door’s locked. Just getting ready for bed.

  @averagegeek99: Okay. Good. How are you? Is it okay for me to ask that?

  @art4ever: I’m fine. Studying hard. I’m looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving. Are you going home?

  @averagegeek99: Nah. Holiday celebrations aren’t really our thing. I’ve got a science paper to work on.

  She really shouldn’t have stayed online with him, but Sage was out again and talking to him made her feel like she wasn’t so alone.

  @art4ever: What’s it about?

  @averagegeek99: I haven’t decided yet. It’s for my quantum physics class. I thought I knew, but I think I’m changing my mind. The prof likes outside-of-the-box thinking so I have to pick something nerdy. Are you working on any cool art projects?

  @art4ever: An abstract with mixed medium. Acrylics, fabric, bicycle parts.

  @averagegeek99: Bicycle parts?

  @art4ever: Gears and pieces of the chain. It’s all about the texture.

  @averagegeek99: I’d love to see it.

  What was that? Was he suggesting they try meeting up again?

  @averagegeek99: I mean someday.

  @averagegeek99: Or just a picture of it.

  @averagegeek99: Or never. Just forget it.

  His obvious nervousness made her smile against her will. He was just so geeky! And adorable. He couldn’t be gingerbreadman. It just seemed so ridiculous to her now.

  @art4ever: I’d love to show it to you.

  @art4ever: Someday.

  Teagan smiled into her hand. It was true. She really did want to show it to him someday.

  She heard another chime and her mother’s name appeared. Her mom didn’t usually write between their weekly sessions unless something came up.

  @art4ever: My mom’s online. I have to run.

  @averagegeek99: Got it. It’s been great chatting. Until next time?

  @art4ever: Yeah.

  Talking to Marlow produced warm fuzzies in her belly, a happy sensation she hadn’t experienced in a while. She had to change mental gears to deal with her mom.

  @art4ever to @mylakeisthebestlake: Hey, Mom. What’s up?

  @mylakeisthebestlake: Good news! I’m at DU! There’s a coffee shop by the park on the edge of campus. Believe in Beans. Do you know it? Can you meet me? I’d come to your room, but the campus is so large and confusing. I’m afraid I’d lose my way in the dark.

  Teagan frowned at the screen.

  @art4ever: What are you doing here? I’m going to be home in two days.

  @mylakeisthebestlake: I don’t want you to travel by yourself. It’s not safe and I’m worried. And I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. I wanted to surprise you!

  @art4ever: I’m surprised! Where did you plan on staying?

  @mylakeisthebestlake: There’s a hotel just off the highway. I booked a room. Do you want to stay with me? It’d be fun.

  @art4ever: I would, but I really have to study.

  @mylakeisthebestlake: I understand. How about a hot chocolate? I’d just feel better if I could see your face.

  Teagan checked the time: 7:45. It would take her fifteen minutes by campus shuttle to get to the side of the campus her mom was at. She couldn’t believe how directionally challenged her mother was. It was amazing she made it this far on her own.

  @art4ever: Hot chocolate sounds good. But I can’t stay long.

  @mylakeisthebestlake: Great. I’ll wait by the front door. See you soon!

  Teagan pulled a pair of jeans over her pajama shorts and slipped into an extra sweater before putting on her jacket. The wind whistled through the window pane and she wrapped a red scarf around her neck for good measure.

  She totally forgot to tell her mom about her new hair color. Her mother wasn’t the only one with a surprise. Teagan ran to catch the bus.

  21

  

  Marlow

  It was just another Tuesday. That was my first misassumption. I stood in a long line at Java Junkie, catching a yawn with my free hand. Everyone looked puffy-eyed with bad hair and chins tucked into scarves or warm sweaters. Two girls stood in front of me, a brunette and a redhead. I recognized the brunette, Sage something. She was in one of my math classes. If she recognized me, she didn’t show it.

  By the time I got to the front of the line, ordered, paid for and got my coffee, I was running late for my calculus class. I pushed through the wind as droplets of rain dotted my glasses, causing the world to blur. I removed them and shoved them in my pocket, careful when I stepped up onto the sidewalk that I didn’t misjudge the height. I didn’t want to lose my caffeine fix. Fortunately, Professor Plats wasn’t the type of prof to lock his doors. Once inside the building, I took a moment to retrieve my glasses and clean them with the edge of my shirt before sliding them over my nose.

  The world came back into focus, and I grabbed an empty seat at the end of the room. Professor Plats was scribbling our assignment on the blackboard. It was strange to think of him as a professor. For one thing, he couldn’t be that much older than I was—he must’ve been a quirky child prodigy. He had dirty-blond hair and squinty, brown eyes, like he needed glasses but didn’t want to wear them. He wore sweater vests over white shirts with the tails hanging out over skinny jeans. He had a way of making nerdiness look cool. I should probably take notes.

  He yawned and rubbed his eyes, and I wondered what could be keeping him up at night. Unsolved equations? Tests to mark?

  A blond girl from the front row approached him. He snapped to attention like all guys did when they encountered a pretty face. His eyes widened and he nodded, then pointed to something in the textbook she held out. Even from my spot in the back row, I could see the girl blushing at the prof’s attention. Maybe she was the reason he didn’t get any sleep the night before.

  Jake Wentworth sat two tables to the right of me beside his buddy Chet. Jake took a long pull from a tall paper cup of coffee. Chet gave in and lowered his buzz cut onto his arms on the table.

  I stifled another yawn. It was the time of year. Midterms were a killer and everyone stayed up late, studying. My first exam was after lunch. No one was
getting enough sleep.

  I opened my textbook to the page Professor Plats marked on the board. It was a review of everything covered so far, prep for the next day’s exam.

  The class resumed in relative quiet, just the sound of pencils scratching and paper shuffling. The peace was shattered ten minutes before class ended when a girl who’d been playing with her phone instead of working out math problems started shrieking.

  “Oh my God. It’s happened again! Another girl has been raped and killed!”

  Suddenly everyone was wide awake.

  Who was it?

  Do they know?

  I’ve gotta call my roommate, make sure she’s okay.

  Who was it?

  Oh, there’s a name.

  Another freshman.

  The girl’s name is Teagan Lake.

  22

  

  Teagan

  Teagan second-guessed the wisdom of taking transit alone after dark once she was on the bus. It was full of students she didn’t know, mostly guys, and there were a handful that seemed to make a special note of her sitting by herself.

  She wrapped her arms around her chest and stared at her reflection in the window. She was a brunette now. He wouldn’t want her.

  Besides, she couldn’t leave her own mother hanging.

  The bus came to a stop and her heart thudded when she recognized the couple that boarded. Nora and Jake. They walked right past her without even a nod of acknowledgment. That was when she knew her hair-color change had worked. Thank goodness.

  Half a hockey team boarded at the next stop. Six guys oozing testosterone with bulky sports bags swung over broad shoulders pushed their way down the aisle, forcing other passengers to lean in toward the windows. They bellowed and guffawed, taking all the empty spots left, including the one next to Teagan. The guy shot her a quick glance as he sat down, then twisted so he could face his pals in the back.

  “Hey Wentworth,” he yelled. “You skippin’?”

  “Nah,” Jake shouted back. “I got my bag here.”

  Teagan slunk lower, hugging the window.

  Two stops later, they all got off, allowing the remaining passengers to take a breath. Each stop after that had people getting off, but none getting on. Teagan had forgotten that the coffee shop her mom had mentioned was at the end of the line.

  The campus populace had thinned out significantly. Maybe it was the time of night or maybe this just wasn’t where the action was. Teagan shivered and wrapped her arms close to her chest.

  A noisy freeway ran on the other side of a wide berm to the west. A forested park edged an empty parking lot to the north. A half-lit sign showed Believe in Beans and had an arrow pointing to the café. The windows were dark. It definitely looked closed, which would be odd for 8:00 p.m. at night.

  Teagan wondered if her mom had gotten the name wrong.

  Then she wondered if the message was actually from her mother. She froze. She wanted to turn around. Find another bus.

  But if her mom were there somewhere, she couldn’t just leave her.

  23

  

  Marlow

  Blood drained from my face. It couldn’t be. No. Please. Not her. I raced back to my dorm—rain pounding on my head, lightning flashing in bright, jagged streaks across the sky, thunder crashing in the distance. The universe was demonstrating the chaos going on in my heart.

  I stood in my dorm, letting the water run from my body into a puddle on the floor, feeling numb.

  I began to shake violently. Somehow, I managed to strip out of my wet clothes until I wore nothing but my boxers, and settled into my desk chair. I whipped open my laptop to double check the news. There must’ve been a mistake. Please, let it be a big mistake.

  My fingers quivered along with my goose bump-covered body and I slumped as I read the newsfeed.

  Third rape and second murder victim identified as Detroit University freshman, Teagan Lake. Her body was found in the park at the north end of the campus. Police are investigating and talking to persons of interest.

  A picture of Teagan was posted alongside the story. It wasn’t the same one she used on her chat profile. Her hair was longer, and the blue streak was missing.

  My mind went crazy. Despite the newsflash in front of me, I couldn’t accept it as truth. My fingers seemed to work autonomously from the logical part of my brain.

  @averagegeek99 to @art4ever: Are you there? Please. I don’t know why you’re mad at me. I just need to know you’re okay.

  I pinched my eyes together. I was insane. Of course she wouldn’t respond. Dead people didn’t hang out in chat rooms.

  Then I heard the ping.

  @art4ever: Yes. I’m here and okay.

  I knocked off my glasses in surprise. My heart took off like pebbles scattered across the pond. It couldn’t be her. Could it? I scrambled to fit my glasses back on my face and began to type.

  @averagegeek99: This is going to sound weird, but I need you to confirm your identity. Quickly, so I know you’re not scrolling through old texts, what is my biggest fear?

  A response came within seconds.

  @art4ever: Snakes.

  Good guess?

  @averagegeek99: My roommate’s name?

  @art4ever: Zed.

  Oh, God.

  @averagegeek99: First joke?

  @art4ever: Knock, knock.

  @art4ever: Marlow, what’s up?

  It was her. It had to be. She knew my name!

  @averagegeek99: Sorry. Don’t mean to freak you out.

  @art4ever: Too late.

  @averagegeek99: Something weird is going on. I can’t explain it, just, I thought you were in trouble.

  @art4ever: I’m in my dorm. Door’s locked. Just getting ready for bed.

  I ran a hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck. I was so confused.

  @averagegeek99: Okay. Good. How are you? Is it okay for me to ask that?

  @art4ever: I’m fine. Studying hard. I’m looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving. Are you going home?

  @averagegeek99: Nah. Holiday celebrations aren’t really our thing. I’ve got a science paper to work on.

  @art4ever: What’s it about?

  @averagegeek99: I haven’t decided yet.

  Maybe something to do with the last couple of lectures Prof Garvin gave on alternate realities.

  Alternate realities.

  No way. Was it possible? Was it possible that the Teagan Lake I was chatting with now, wasn’t the same Teagan Lake reported about in the news?

  Could my Teagan Lake be in a parallel universe? I pushed away from the desk and paced around my wet pile of clothes. The idea was so crazy. But theoretically, it was possible.

  And if my Teagan was still alive in another reality, a reality where the attacks were also happening, she could still be in danger.

  How could I help her?

  If I mentioned something crazy like this, she’d stop chatting with me again for sure and then it really would be impossible to help her.

  If this were true, there must be a way to cross over. But how?

  We continued to chat about lighter topics like her latest art project and she surprised me when she said she’d like me to see it. In the background my mind was racing, trying to unravel this mystery. Was this why none of our pictures or video efforts ever worked? She was over there somewhere and I was here? How did our chat sessions happen then? What was going on when I got her first message?

  @art4ever: My mom’s online. I have to run.

  @averagegeek99: Got it. It’s been great chatting. Until next time?

  @art4ever: Yeah.

  I was still shivering from the cold induced by the storm and somehow made my shaky legs get me into a hot shower. My mind continued to spin as I soaped up. The whole scenario was just so wild. Something nagged at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t seem to grasp it in my exhausted and traumatized state.

  I dressed in pajama pants and an old T-shirt, and brushed my tee
th. I was spitting in the sink when it came to me.

  The storm.

  It was storming the day Teagan first contacted me. I remember getting shocked when I’d typed a reply.

  Something happened that day to connect us. Maybe it originated from her side? I had to get over there somehow, had to do something to keep her safe.

  I didn’t know how to make a jump happen. Only one impulsive idea came to mind. I grabbed my laptop and ran outside into the rain.

  24

  

  Teagan

  Teagan walked up to the front door of Believe in Beans and peered inside. Only darkness. Chairs were stacked up in rows along a back wall. A sign hung on the window announcing it was closed for renovations and apologizing for any inconvenience.

  Her mom must’ve gotten her cafés mixed up. She was probably waiting at one in an entirely different area of campus! She reached into her purse for her phone so she could text her.

  “Teagan.”

  Her head jerked up at her name. It sounded like her mother’s voice. “Mom?”

  “Teagan!”

  It was her voice. She sounded like she was in distress. Teagan searched the perimeter of the parking lot where her mother’s calls seemed to come from. “Mom? Is that you?”

  “Help!”

  Teagan ran toward the sound of her mom’s voice, into the darkness of the park. She didn’t think twice that it could be a trap. The only thing on her mind was that her mother was hurt and that she needed to find her.

  “Mom!”

  “Teagan.”

  Ice cold prickles ran up Teagan’s spine as she skittered to a stop. That was not her mother’s voice. It was low and male.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Of course, I knew you would. Mommy’s girl.”