What To Do About Wednesday

by Jennie Marts

  Nola rolled over between them, splaying out her legs and offering her belly up for a rub as she let out a funny little groaning sound.

  Claire laughed as they both reached to rub the dog’s belly. “This little mutt is growing on me.”

  Piper smiled. “Me, too. I never knew I wanted a dog, but now I can’t imagine not having her.”

  “Life does crazy things sometimes.”

  “Agreed. And it’s sure been crazy lately. You missed it tonight. We actually were asked to leave the bar because Edna used her stun gun on a couple of dudes who were trying to get her to smoke weed with them.”

  Claire’s eyes widened, then she burst out laughing. “Where did that lady come from? She is hysterical.” She tilted her head. “Although it might be funny to get Edna baked. She would be hilarious.”

  “That’s what those guys thought. But she told them the only thing she bakes is cookies.”

  Claire chuckled. “Of course she did.”

  Piper’s hand stilled on the dog’s belly. “Are you worried about those guys? The ones from Spider’s crew.”

  Her mom’s smile fell, and her shoulders slumped forward. She sighed, the sound filled with a weariness that came from somewhere deep inside. “I’m worried about a lot of things.” She rested her hand lightly on Piper’s and gave it a light squeeze then stood up. “But right now, I’m worried about you and thinking you need to get some sleep.”

  Piper scrunched down under the covers.

  Her mom started for the door then turned back and leaned down to press a quick kiss on Piper’s forehead, just like she’d done when Piper was a little girl.

  She squeezed her eyes shut against another sudden prick of tears. Geez, what was with her and all the water works tonight? She must be tired.

  Nola curled up against her shoulder as her mom turned out the bedside lamp.

  Claire stopped in the doorway. “Hey, Piper. You were wrong, ya know? With Fitz, earlier. And what you said. You are good enough for him. You’re good enough for whoever you choose to go out with. They are the lucky ones to be chosen by you.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she rolled over. “You were listening?”

  “Of course.”

  She rolled her eyes but also let out a soft chuckle. Of course she was listening. She was her mother after all. “Good night, Mom.”

  “Good night, Pip.”

  The next morning, Piper and Claire went about their morning routines, showering and getting dressed pretty much the same as they’d done every other morning since Claire had moved in, but today felt different. The air in the apartment seemed a little easier to breathe, like the tension had dissipated or some of the anxiety had eased.

  They didn’t talk about the heart-to-heart chat they’d had the night before, but her mom offered her an open smile and handed her a cup of coffee as she wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

  “How’d you sleep?” Claire asked.

  “Surprisingly well,” Piper answered, then took a sip of the hot coffee. She’d thought she would lay awake or sleep in terrified fitful spurts and her dreams would have been filled with nightmares of shadowy figures, but her body must have been exhausted because she dozed right off and slept through the night. “Now I need coffee and sugar.”

  A knock sounded at the front door, and a deep voice called through the wood. “It’s me, Fitz, and I come bearing donuts.”

  Claire gave her a teasing chuckle. “Your wish is his command.”

  Piper’s heart raced as she tried not to run to the door. She said she needed sugar, but she didn’t really give a fig about the donuts, she just wanted to see Fitz. She threw the door open and tried to contain the grin spreading across her face. “Hi.”

  Wow. All that build-up and that’s all she had to say.

  “Hi.” He grinned back, his eyes crinkling at the edges from his smile being so big.

  She didn’t know what to do—should she hug him, plant a kiss on his cheek, or just stand there and look like a complete dork?

  Apparently, she was going with the dork-move because she didn’t know how to hug him around the box of donuts and the over-stuffed backpack slung over his shoulder.

  “Come on in,” Claire said, thankfully breaking the awkwardness of the two of them standing there goofily staring at each other. “Piper was just saying she needed some sugar.”

  Piper whipped her head back to give her mom one of her trademark “Really, Mom?” glares, but Claire had already turned to the sink, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter at her own joke.

  Fitz dropped his crammed backpack inside the door and it hit the floor with a thud.

  “Geez, how many books do you have in there?” Piper asked.

  “In number or cost-value?” He chuckled at his own joke as he crossed the room and set the donuts on the counter. Nerd humor.

  Everyone in her apartment thought they were a comedian today.

  “How’d you do on your test?” She plucked a chocolate-covered glazed donut from the box and bit into its puffy, sugary side.

  “Good, I think. It’s hard to tell sometimes. This was more like a quiz, and I was pretty comfortable with the equations we’ve been working on, so I feel pretty good about it.” He pulled a rawhide bone from his jacket. “I brought a treat for the dog, too.”

  Piper’s heart melted like the chocolate on her donut. “Wow. That was nice. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. I think she’s adorable.” He bent down and held the bone out to the dog. “Come here, No Name. Come and get it, girl.”

  The dog raced toward him then stopped and tentatively took the offered bone. Once she had it in her teeth, she made cute little growly noises at it as she gnawed on one end.

  “She does have a name now,” Piper told him, laughing at the dog’s funny antics.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, it’s Nola.”

  He grinned. “For the bars she loves?”

  She nodded. She knew he’d get it.

  “Nice.” He scratched the dog’s ears. “You’re a good dog, Nola.”

  The dog tore her attention from the rawhide to give his hand a quick lick, earning her a chuckle from Fitz and an “aww” from Piper.

  Another knock sounded on the door.

  Piper glanced from Fitz to her mom. “You expecting anyone?”

  Fitz approached the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Edna Allen,” a voice called back. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Piper’s apartment?”

  Fitz grinned and pulled open the door. “Hi Edna.”

  She strode in, briefly offering Fitz a small smile and a pat on the arm then heading straight for Piper and threw her arms around the girl. “Oh honey, I heard about what happened last night. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  Piper nodded and squeezed the older woman back. “I’m fine. I was a little shaken up last night, but I’m okay today.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing really happened. He let me go, and he got away. I didn’t want to bother anyone, especially since I didn’t really have much to say besides I was an idiot and put myself in a vulnerable position by standing right outside of my house in the dark.”

  Edna took a firm hold of her arm. “This isn’t your fault. And it doesn’t matter about you calling, I’m here now. And I brought reinforcements. They’re parking the car.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Fitz, who was still standing by the door, opened it to let Sunny and a tall, gorgeous, muscled guy in.

  The guy was Jake Landon, Sunny’s boyfriend and a former FBI agent turned private eye.

  Their faces were grim, and they both followed Edna’s suit and wrapped Piper in a group hug.

  “I appreciate all of the love, you guys, but I’m really okay.” She glanced from one to the other as a feeling of dread slithered along her spine. “Not that I’m not always glad to see you, Jake, but why do I need reinforcements? Did somethi
ng happen?”

  His mouth was set in a tight line, and he used his ‘official’ voice to say, “Yes, it did. Last night around zero-one-thirty hours. There was another attack.”

  Piper’s knees gave way.

  Jake reached out and grabbed her before she collapsed to the floor. He guided her to the sofa, and she crumpled into it.

  Her mom rushed to the sink and got her a glass of water, pressing it into her hands. She absently took a drink then set it on the coffee table in front of her.

  She didn’t hear him move, but suddenly Fitz was sitting by her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, thankful for the support. He smelled like aftershave, laundry detergent and coffee, and she wanted to bury her head in his shoulder and forget all of this. Forget about murder and assault and being afraid.

  All she’d wanted was to go off to college and live a normal, ordinary life. She wanted to date a boy and have all those ‘new date’ and ‘first kiss’ kind of experiences with him. Instead, she was having ‘walk to class with her so she didn’t get murdered’ kind of experiences, and they were not the same. When she thought about how many times she’d flippantly thought she’d just die if Fitz didn’t pay attention to her or brush up against her as they worked, or kiss her, she wanted to bury her head in a pillow, because Brittany really had died.

  The Page Turners book club had gone through some rough stuff this summer. They’d helped solve murders, and Edna and Maggie had even been kidnapped, but this was somehow different. This time, it was happening to her. She was the victim. Or the alleged victim. Or the intended victim. Or whatever she was, she knew she hated it.

  She didn’t want to be any kind of victim.

  She’d spent the last half of her life being the ‘girl whose dad died in that awful motorcycle crash’ or the ‘girl whose mom didn’t want her’ or ‘that weird new girl at school.’

  She was tired of being those girls, tired of being afraid, tired of always feeling like the stupid victim.

  Every part of her screamed she wanted to stand on her own two feet, to take care of herself, to shrug off all this concern, and to stop being weak-kneed and collapsing all over the place.

  Well, maybe not every part. There was still one tiny part of her that was scared to death. That was terrified to be home alone or to go outside in the dark. One tiny part that reminded her it was okay to be a little afraid—being afraid made her cautious, made her smart, made her think carefully about her decisions.

  But being afraid and being weak were two different things. And she hated that this guy, this killer, was making her feel weak.

  She took a deep breath and squeezed Fitz’s hand. Everyone was looking at her like she’d grown a third eye or something. “It’s okay, you guys. I’m not that fragile. And I’m not going to fall apart. I lost it for a second, but I’ve got it back together.”

  Jake gave her an encouraging wink.

  A sudden thought hit her. “Wait. You said ‘attack’. Not murder.”

  “Yeah, thankfully,” Jake said. “The victim was attacked in the same manner as the others, but he somehow survived. Maybe the killer was interrupted in the middle and took off. We don’t know for sure. Regardless of what happened, he’s still alive. But he’s in the hospital and hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  “He?”

  “Yeah, this time it was a guy.”

  “Then how do they know it was the same killer? The last two victims have been girls.”

  Jake shrugged. “Same MO.”

  “So who was the guy?”

  “His name is David Taylor. Does that ring a bell with you?” Jake asked then stuffed half of a donut into his mouth.

  “No, I don’t think so. Should it?”

  “He’s a student here at the college, and he went to high school with you.”

  “I keep telling you guys, there were a lot of kids at that school, and I only went there for a couple of months before I graduated. I didn’t meet a lot of people.” She turned to Fitz. “You went there forever. Did you know him?”

  He shook his head, his brows knit together in concentration. “I don’t think so. The name doesn’t sound familiar. Maybe if I saw him…”

  “Didn’t you say you were going to try to track down your yearbook from last year?” Edna asked.

  “Yeah, I did. I found it last night and stuffed it in my backpack. I’ve got it with me.” He lugged his bag over, then unzipped it and dug through the stacks of books and folders crammed inside. He pulled free a slim gray book and held it up. “Here it is.”

  Edna snatched it from his hand and spread it open on the table in front of them. She flipped through the pages until she got to the seniors, running her finger down the lists of names until she found the one she wanted.

  She jabbed a picture with her finger. “Here he is. David Taylor. He looks angry, and he’s got more holes in him than my colander.”

  Cassie looked over her shoulder. “Those are called piercings, Edna. And that’s about how Piper looked when she first came to stay with us.”

  Edna turned the book toward Piper. “Does he look familiar?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Yeah, I know him. Or I did. We hung out a little bit when I first started there. Except I never knew his name was David.”

  “How did you hang out with him and never know his name?” Claire asked.

  “Because he didn’t go by David. I only knew him as Dragon. It was a kind of a thing the Goth kids in that group did—they changed their names and all went by something different, something they felt fit their personality better. It was a name they chose, and his was Dragon.”

  Edna studied the picture. “He doesn’t look like much of a dragon—maybe more like an elephant. What in the world is wrong with his ears? They droop almost to his shoulders.”

  Piper rolled her eyes. “Those are called gauges. You put them in your ears and keep increasing them in size to make the holes in your ears bigger. It’s a style kind of thing.”

  Edna’s eyes went as round as Dragon’s gauges. “You mean to tell me he did that to his ears on purpose?”

  “Yes.” Piper refrained from rolling her eyes a second time, but it was an effort. “Now can we stop talking about his ears and focus on why he was attacked.”

  “What could he have in common with the other girls? Do you think he knew your roommate?”

  Piper’s stomach roiled and the few bites of donut she’d taken threatened to come back up. “It doesn’t matter if he did or not.”

  “How can you say that? There has to be a connection to these three kids—something which ties them together and is making this monster go after them.”

  “That might be, but it doesn’t have anything to do with Brittany.” She knew she had to tell them, she just couldn’t seem to get the words out.

  “You lost me,” Edna said, staring at her in confusion. “How can it not have anything to do with Brittany? She was the first victim.”

  “But she wasn’t the intended victim. Last night, when I was attacked, the guy told me that killing Brittany was a mistake.” Piper swallowed, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “It was supposed to be me.”

  Edna and Sunny gasped at the same time.

  “It was the sweater,” Piper told them, fighting back the prick of tears stinging eyes. “We had the same color hair and the same build, and she was wearing my sweater, and he thought she was me.”

  “Oh honey,” Edna said, sitting on the coffee table in front of Piper and rubbing her knee. “That must have been a shock to hear.”

  She let out her breath in a hard laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Well then, that’s even more reason we need to find this bastard and take him out at the knees.”

  Edna always did have a way with words.

  “So if Brittany wasn’t the intended victim…” Sunny said, tapping a finger against her chin. “Then we’ve been looking at this from the wrong angle. We need to throw out everything which c
onnects Lisa and David, I mean Dragon, or whatever, to Brittany, and figure out how these two are connected to you.”

  “That makes sense,” Piper said, glad to have something else to focus on. “But I have no idea what that connection could be. I didn’t even know the other girl.”

  “Are you sure?” Edna asked, reaching for the yearbook. “You didn’t think you knew David either. Maybe you might recognize Lisa if you saw her picture.” She flipped a few pages then scanned the pictures. “Hmmm.”

  “What’s wrong?” Piper asked, peering over the top of the book.

  “I saw a picture of the girl who was murdered in the paper, and she didn’t look like this.” Edna squinted at the book. “Well, maybe she did. But in the paper, she had normal hair and was dressed in ordinary clothes. This picture makes her look more like the other boy, with her hair all dyed and spiky.”

  “Let me see.” Piper took the book and glanced down at the picture. The donut made another attempt at returning. “I do know her. But not as Lisa. She introduced herself as Luna, and that’s the only thing I ever called her.” A fresh wave of grief rolled through her. “She was the first person to talk to me when I started at that school. She sat with me at lunch on my first day. She and Dragon.”

  Fitz ran his hand along her shoulder. “Sorry. This has got to be tough on you.”

  She shook her head. “Not as tough as it was on them. I’m still alive.” The implication had her head reeling.

  “That’s right,” Edna said. “And that’s how you’re going to stay. Claire, get a new sheet of paper. We’ve got to start over and look at this with fresh eyes. Let’s go over everything we know about these two and see how we can connect them to Piper. And we can add Jake’s input, as well.”

  The group followed Edna’s orders and all moved to the kitchen table.

  Claire pulled another giant post-it page from the pad and stuck it to the wall then uncapped a marker and stood ready to write. “Okay Pip, tell us everything you can remember about these two kids. Think of all the times you hung out with them or the places you went with them.”