What To Do About Wednesday

by Jennie Marts

  She clenched handfuls of his jacket in her fingers, tightening her hands into fists as she felt tears prick her eyes. A sob escaped her as she pressed her mouth into his shoulder.

  “Hey. It’s okay. We’re okay,” he soothed.

  She pulled back, anger and despair surging through her veins, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “No. It is not okay. You just gave me this whole amazing pep talk about fear and kicking it in the throat, and I bought in to every word. I was ready to lead the charge to face my fears and take them down. But then what do I do at the first sign of trouble? Do I jump out of the car and tear after the creep like you tried to do? No, I cower in terror and plead with you not to go after him either.”

  “Come on, Piper. You’re being too hard on yourself. I was talking about imagined fear and fear of the unknown. I wasn’t talking about facing down a strange guy in a mask standing outside your car.”

  “You weren’t afraid. You jumped right out of the car. And would have gone after him if I hadn’t begged you not to.”

  “That doesn’t make me brave. That just makes me stupid. I was pumped on adrenaline and having a knee-jerk reaction to chase him down, but that was a bone-head move. What if the guy had a gun or a knife? We don’t know it was the same guy who is after you. It could have been someone trying to rob us. You made the smart choice by telling me to stay in the car and get us out of there.”

  “I don’t feel very smart. I feel like a coward.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re not a coward. You got scared. That’s how any normal person would react.” He gestured to the grocery store. “Want to go inside? We can find some junk food and buy a couple of drinks.”

  “Sure.” Her stomach was still roiling so she wasn’t sure about the junk food, but she could use something to drink.

  Stretching her legs and walking into the bright store lifted her spirits and the fact Fitz held her hand as they wandered the aisles lightened her mood as well. He joked and teased with her and by the time they’d checked out with some orange juice, a bottle of water, and a giant bag of M&M’s, she definitely felt better.

  They sat in the car, and he poured a handful of candy into her palm. They shared the treats, passing the bottle of orange juice between them.

  Fitz grinned. “You know, the main components of a common date are going someplace together and partaking of food and beverage.” He gestured to the last M&M in her hand. “So, I think this constitutes as our first date.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go on a date to the grocery store and share a romantic meal of M&M’s under the stars,” she teased then laughed as she popped the last chocolate into her mouth.

  “I don’t care if we’re eating M&M’s, filet mignon, or alligator meat, I’m just happy to be hanging out with you.”

  “Me too.” She offered him a mischievous grin. “But I think you missed the most important part of the first date. The kiss.”

  “I don’t want to miss that.” He leaned forward and captured her mouth in a long, lingering kiss.

  He tasted like sweet chocolate and cool citrus, and the combination was delicious. He was delicious. His mouth fit perfectly to hers, and she never wanted to stop kissing him.

  Heat swirled through her, and she swore she could feel an actual pulse vibrating between them.

  Wait. That was an actual pulse.

  “Sorry, I’m waiting for a call,” he said as he drew back and pulled his phone from his pocket to check the screen. “I’ve got to take this.”

  He tapped the screen then held the phone to his ear. “Hello…no, I’m fine…I’m just out of breath because I was running for the phone.” He grinned at Piper as he picked up her hand and twined his fingers with hers.

  His good-natured smile turned into a frown, and his brow creased as he listened to the caller. “That’s so random. But thanks for checking into it for me, bro. It’s not what I was expecting, but at least we know something now. Talk to you later.” He disconnected the call and tossed his phone on the dashboard.

  “At least we know what? Who was that?” Ordinarily, she didn’t let her curiosity get the best of her, but these weren’t ordinary times, and he had just broken away from kissing her to take a call, so it must have been important. Although, the call could easily be about one of those ridiculously complicated equations Fitz and his classmates were always working on, but somehow she didn’t think so. Not with the way he shook his head and was studying her face.

  “That was a buddy of mine. He’s in Computer Science, and he’s a genius at hacking. I told him, hypothetically of course, about a friend of mine who had her online dating profile hacked and asked him to check into it to see if he could figure out who had done it.”

  “And could he?”

  “Sort of. He didn’t get the ‘who’, but he told me the IP address of ‘where’ it was done.”

  “So where was it done?”

  “That’s the part I said was so random. It’s weird. He said it was done at the high school. He traced it there, then searched around in some of the documents and is pretty sure it came from one of the student computers in the library.”

  “What? That is weird. Why would someone hack my dating profile from a computer in my old high school’s library?”

  Fitz shrugged. “I don’t know, but we drive by the school on the way back to your apartment. Do you want to check it out?”

  Um…no. Not in the least. The thought of wandering around the high school in the dark sounded creepy and terrifying and like the perfect setting for those terrible slasher movies where the majority of the cast is too dumb to live. Which is why most of them usually ended up dead.

  But didn’t she just feel like a coward for not being brave enough to face the guy in the park? Checking out a computer couldn’t be that hard. Besides, the school would probably be locked, but at least they could say they tried.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Although I don’t know what you think we’ll find—besides a computer. And I remember the school’s computers being impossibly slow. Do you really think the killer is there right now waiting for the modem to dial up?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I doubt the guy is there right now, but we’re driving right by it, so I just want to look and see. Who knows, maybe the killer somehow inadvertently left a clue.”

  “I think you’ve been watching too much television. I don’t think real killers just leave random clues lying around.”

  “You never know. And it can’t hurt to check.”

  He was right. And they were driving right by it.

  She took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

  It only took a few minutes to get to the school, and Fitz parked in the back next to the gym.

  “I figured the school is locked, but there’s a window with a busted lock back here,” he said, leading her toward the back of the building. “The team used to sneak into the locker room and pull pranks on our coach.”

  There went her hope they wouldn’t be able to get into the school and would be forced to give up and go home. Dang Fitz and his excellent problem-solving skills.

  He peered through a window, which opened into a back hallway. “This is it. For once I’m glad our school is old and they used most of their budget on the football program instead of refurbishing the building.” He jiggled the window frame, and it popped up. Pushing it open, he boosted himself onto the sill and climbed through then held his hand out to help her.

  Here goes the start of a beautiful career in breaking and entering.

  Although, technically they hadn’t broken anything.

  But the window was unlocked, Officer, and I just fell in as I was walking past.

  Yeah, that’d work.

  She let Fitz pull her over the sill, then did actually fall into the building, so at least that part would be true.

  “You okay?” Fitz whispered, helping her to her feet.

  “Yep, my pride and my butt are only slightly bruised.” She brushe
d off her backside, and then reached for Fitz’s hand as she followed him down the dim hallway.

  Between the moon and the glow from the outside security lights shining through the big windows, the hallways were light enough to see where they were going.

  Their footsteps echoed in the empty halls, and Piper’s mouth had suddenly gone dry as they neared the doors to the library.

  “This does seem to prove our theory that the victims are related through something to do with high school,” she whispered.

  Fitz shrugged. “Maybe. Or it could mean the killer is still in high school. Or maybe he’s a teacher. Or what if it’s the actual librarian?”

  “Considering Mrs. Johnson is like eighty years old and a woman, I highly doubt that one.”

  “Maybe they hired a new guy this year.”

  “When is the last time they hired anyone new here?”

  “Good point.” He rested his hand on the doorknob. “You ready?”

  No.

  “Yes.” She gripped his hand, probably crushing his fingers as he turned the knob and pushed through the door.

  The library seemed quieter than the rest of the building had been. It could be due to the carpet on the floor or simply the stereotype that it was supposed to be quiet.

  The computers were in the back, and they moved quietly through the stacks.

  A dim light came from the same area the computers were. She assumed it was the glow of the computer screens.

  A hushed whisper of sound broke through the silence, and they froze.

  Fitz’s eyes went round as he stared at Piper. Her heart was thrashing so hard against her chest, she feared it would explode. That would be awesome—steps away from confronting her killer and her body explodes onto the literary masterpieces of Austen and Tolstoy.

  Another sound. The scrape of a chair followed by a turn of a page.

  Maybe it’s just the janitor. They could be taking a break in the library to read the latest thriller.

  The likelihood they would actually come upon the killer sitting at the computer in their old high school was a zillion to one.

  Fitz motioned her to follow him as he tiptoed forward. He’d let go of her hand, so she gripped the folds of his jacket, tailing him so closely, she was practically plastered to his back.

  He slowly peered around the edge of the bookcase, then yanked his head back, the muscles of his neck tense as his eyes bulged out. He jerked his thumb for her to look.

  Icy fingers of dread danced over her skin, causing it to pimple with goosebumps, and she couldn’t seem to swallow. She didn’t want to look. She just wanted to run away.

  But this was what being brave and facing your fear was all about.

  Still clutching Fitz’s jacket, she edged forward then tilted her head to gaze around the bookcase.

  Stifling a gasp, she clapped her hand to her mouth as she lurched back against Fitz.

  She’d seen a figure slumped forward, typing at the keys of a computer. The lamp between the computers had been turned on, but his body was tilted away so she couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a dark sweatshirt, the hood pulled up over his head, but the jacket was remarkably similar to the one the guy in the park had been wearing.

  She stared at Fitz, knowing her eyes had to be as round as Oreos. “What should we do?” she mouthed.

  He pointed at her then the door of the library then made the motion of calling someone on the phone.

  Okay, she liked the idea of sprinting out of the library and calling the police, but what was he going to do?

  She raised her eyebrows, then indicated him.

  He pointed to himself then the guy at the computer and made a tackling motion.

  What? No!

  She shook her head, frustrated at this stupid game of How Do We Face Down a Killer charades.

  “Go,” he mouthed, then rounded the corner and charged toward the hooded man.

  Never having been good at following directions, Piper scrambled after him, letting out a shriek as Fitz tackled the guy, knocking him from his chair and onto the ground.

  The hooded guy’s face hit the table as he went down, and he let out a howl of pain. He broke free of Fitz’s grasp and back-pedaled away from him, grabbing a book from the table and throwing it toward Fitz.

  The book glanced off his shoulder as Fitz came at the guy again, staying low and trying to pin him to the ground. He’d told her he’d done some wrestling in high school.

  Piper stood frozen, unable to do anything except watch.

  The guy frantically tried to crawl away, but Fitz grabbed his ankles and pulled him back.

  She hated those scenes in the movies where the heroine stood there indecisively shifting from one foot to the other, not doing anything to help as the hero fights the villain. But that’s exactly what she was doing.

  Fitz seemed to be doing fine on his own, but she still didn’t want to remember herself as the one who just stood there while her man engaged in battle.

  Spurred into action, she grabbed for the closest thing to her which could be used as a weapon and started heaving books toward the guy. Except she had terrible aim and kept hitting Fitz with the books.

  Both men grunted with pain as the books smacked into them.

  The guy in the hoodie sent a well-placed kick at Fitz’s shoulder, knocking him back, and giving the guy a chance to scramble backward. He hit the corner of the room and covered his head with his arms, cowering against the wall.

  “Don’t kill me,” he begged.

  Piper stopped, her hand in mid-air as she readied another tome to launch.

  Fitz paused, his arms outstretched as he prepared to tackle the guy again. He glanced at Piper.

  She shrugged.

  The guy didn’t seem to be fighting back or trying to kill them. In fact, he seemed terrified.

  Which wasn’t how she would describe her assailant from the night before.

  “We’re not trying to kill you,” Fitz said.

  “We thought you were trying to kill us,” Piper added.

  “Why would I want to kill you?” The guy raised his head and pushed his hood back. A dark red mark smudged his cheek from where he had hit his face on the table. His mouth dropped open as he glanced from his assailant to the book-launcher with the bad aim. “Piper?”

  She recognized the guy in the hood and sweat broke out across her back as she gripped the book she was holding tighter. She took a step forward, bumping into the table and knocking another book off. It made a loud thump as it hit the edge of the plastic chair and tumbled to the floor. “Brandon?”

  “You know this guy?” Fitz asked.

  “He’s one of them. One of the guys from the online dating site.”

  Fitz advanced on him again, but Brandon held up his hands. “I’m sorry. It was a harmless attempt. I know it was wrong, but I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Huh?

  “You didn’t mean anything by trying to kill me?”

  He dropped his hands as his face went pale. “Trying to kill you? What are you talking about? I never tried to kill you. I didn’t even try to hold your hand.”

  “But you just said you know what you did was wrong. So you know it was wrong to strangle my roommate.”

  His eyes went even rounder. “Whoa. This is a mistake. I didn’t strangle anyone. I’m trying to figure out who did strangle Brittany.”

  She stared at him—she was so confused.

  “Look, I’m sorry I asked you out under false pretenses. That’s what I’m talking about it—what I did that was wrong. I saw you on the dating site and thought it would be a good way to talk to you, to ask you some questions, to dig for some information about Brittany’s murder.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  He sighed. “To get the inside scoop, so I can get a good grade. I’m majoring in Criminal Investigations, and I’m doing my fall project on Brittany’s murder.”

  She shook her head. “You asked me out to grill me about my roommate
’s death? For an assignment?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to apologize for. After the date, I didn’t think you were really that into me anyway, so I figured no harm was done. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything.”

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings, and I’m not into you at all. I thought you were the one who attacked me last night.”

  “You got attacked last night? Do you think it was the same guy who strangled Brittany?” His eyes lit with interest.

  “Yeah, I know it was. But I thought it was you.”

  “No way. I can barely kill a spider. But I’m totally interested in the way a killer’s mind works. That’s what I’m doing my paper on. I’m calling it ‘A Hometown Homicide.’” He raised an eyebrow at Fitz. “Good title, huh?”

  He looked pretty proud of himself, but Piper wanted to vomit. This whole thing seemed to be another dead end. All they’d found was a guy with a morbid curiosity about the murders.

  Except something still seemed off.

  “Wait. So why are you here? Why did you break into the school at night? And why are you working on this particular computer?”

  “I was just following up on a hunch. I had this weird thing happen on the online dating site where I met you. Right after our date, my whole profile was deleted. It was strange and the timing was odd since you were the last person I’d connected with and you were also Brittany’s roommate. I wondered if there might be a connection and did a little hacking and traced whoever had been messing with my account to these computers.” He gestured to the table. “It seemed like more than a coincidence since the murder victims went to this high school, so I thought I’d come over and check it out.”

  “And did you find anything?”

  “No. But I’m not that sophisticated of a hacker. I checked all six of these and couldn’t find anything suspicious or anything to lead to the identity of the person who was messing with my account.” His brow creased as he looked from Fitz back to Piper. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Piper sighed and set down the book she was still clutching. “Same thing as you—following up on the dating profile stuff. My mom actually set that profile up for me.” She held up her hand. “Don’t ask. But she only connected to two guys and told them both to show up at the coffee shop wearing a Star Wars shirt and to compliment me on my hair, but three showed up instead, and I went out with all three before we realized there were only supposed to be two. I’d never seen the profiles so I didn’t know which one was the imposter, and when we went back to check the profiles, they’d been deleted.”