I Spy with My Little Eye (A Nursery Rhyme Suspense short story): A Marlow and Sage Mystery

by Strauss, Lee

  I Spy With My Little Eye

  A Nursery Rhyme Suspense short story

  Lee Strauss

  Contents

  I Spy With My Little Eye

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Life is But a Dream - chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lee Strauss

  I Spy With My Little Eye

  a short story By Lee Strauss

  When what you don’t know will kill you.

  A dead Santa throws Marlow and Sage together again in this Nursery Rhyme Suspense short story.

  The target isn’t Santa, it’s Sage, and she and Marlow aren’t the only ones who want information from the would-be assassin. Temporarily recruited by CISUE, Central Intelligence for Special or Unusual Events, Marlow and Sage are tasked with finding out the identity of CISUE’s main nemesis, and while they’re at it, smoke out the company mole.

  Marlow and Sage surprise themselves by what appears to be a latent skill set, perfect for taking down bad guys. They’d pat each other on the back later if only they hadn’t agreed to have their memories wiped.

  Who are you again?

  For more info on my books or how to follow me on social media visit me at leestraussbooks.com.

  1

  Marlow

  A flash of red.

  Her coat was hard to miss through the flurry of white that floated down from the sky. Snow had been falling since the break of dawn, making a normally brown and industrial city like Detroit look as soft and romantic as Paris.

  With my hands stuffed in my pockets and my chin tucked into an old black scarf, I followed Sage Farrell down the recently shoveled and sanded sidewalk. It just so happened that she and I lived in the same suburb, but I wasn’t really surprised to see her again. Something in the universe kept throwing us together. Unfortunately for me, I was the only one aware of this.

  The jacket must have been new since I’d never seen her wear it on campus at Detroit University. The red caught my eye, but it was her face I recognized. Beautiful dark eyes, smooth skin, and full red lips. Thanks to my newly lasered eyes, I’d spotted her from a block and a half away and fell into a half jog to catch up to her. I stopped before I reached her, breaking suddenly, getting bumped into by a shopper walking behind me.

  “Excuse me,” the woman said with a strong note of irritation. She shifted her bags to her other arm and quickly maneuvered around me. My eyes darted to the back of Sage’s head, her chestnut hair falling in waves along her shoulders. I pushed up on my lenses—no prescription, I just liked to wear specs— and picked up my pace. I needed to keep my distance without losing sight of her in the crowd.

  Sage entered one of the many strip malls that lay along the main roads of our adjoining neighborhoods. I joined the stream of the last minute shoppers and pushed my way inside. I was tall so it was easy for me to look over the heads of the crowd in front of me and keep Sage in sight.

  “Marlow!”

  I turned at the familiar voice. My best bud Zed appeared seemingly out of nowhere and elbow-checked me. He had donut crumbs on his beard, which I ignored. I wasn’t his girlfriend.

  “Don’t you just love this time of year?” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He lifted two full shopping bags. “Mom and dad, check. Three spoiled little brothers, check.”

  “Lucky you,” I said.

  “Dude. You only have one person to shop for.”

  “My mom never wants anything. That actually makes it harder.”

  “I wasn’t talking about her. Dude, you only have two people to shop for.”

  I rolled my eyes. Zed and I had agreed never to buy each other gifts, unless we became crazy millionaires or something. Then the rich one could buy the poor one a yacht.

  Christmas music pumped through a bad PA system overhead, and a mix of smells from the food court permeated the air. The number of people in the mall forced a slower pace, which made it easier to keep my eye on Sage. She turned down one of the hallways to the offshoot wings.

  “Hurry,” I said to Zed, speeding up.

  “What for? The mall isn’t going anywhere.”

  “I saw someone.”

  “You have another friend besides me?”

  “She’s wearing a red coat.”

  His gaze followed mine. “Your friend’s a girl.”

  “She’s not a friend, exactly.”

  I let out a short breath when I spotted her again. Zed saw her at the same time and whistled. “She’s hot.”

  “I know.”

  “Does she know who you are?”

  That was a reasonable question, and hard to answer. Sage and I had met in extraordinary circumstances.

  “Not really.”

  We continued to follow her keeping a safe distance.

  “Are you going to talk to her?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Ah.” Zed scrubbed his beard, knocking out the last of the crumbs and I knew I was in for a lecture. “You do know that this is called stalking, and is illegal?”

  “I’m not stalking.”

  “Okay, man. If you say so.”

  I relented. I was kind of stalking her, and to what purpose? If she saw me, she’d be freaked out, and I didn’t want that. Not if I hoped for any kind of actual friendship with her in the future. To prove Zed wrong, I entered the next shop.

  I should’ve at least taken a look at the store name. “Lexi’s Lingerie.”

  Zed burst out laughing. “I thought you were shopping for your mom. You have Miss Red Coat on the brain.”

  My neck became a furnace and I ripped off my scarf. Stomping out of the store, I scanned the crowd to make sure Sage didn’t happen to be around to witness my bumbling stupidity. I felt like an idiot.

  After that I kept my head down and let Zed take the lead. Of course that meant a stop in front of Santa in order to ogle the scantily clad elves. It was the best you got when it came to girls exposing skin in the middle of a Michigan winter.

  Little kids lined up with their parents for their chance to tell Santa what they wanted to find under the tree. The curvy elves took their pictures and sent hopeful, happy children along their way.

  Well, mostly happy. The latest small boy was having none of it, screaming at the top of his lungs and wiggling out of Santa’s red velvet arms.

  “I bet that kid is afraid of clowns,” Zed said.

  “You would know.”

  “Yup.”

  Sage stopped at one of the coffee shops and stood in line to order. I searched for a sign of happiness on her face, a sparkle in her eye, a genuine smile, but found none.

  Why would I? As far as Sage was concerned her best friend was murdered by a psychopath during our first semester at Detroit U.

  “Dude, I’m heading back,” Zed said. “My arms are sore and I can’t take the crowds anymore.”

  “Sure. I’m gonna stick around, pick up something for my mom.

  He grinned stupidly. “Say hi to Red Coat Chick for me.”

  I punched him in the arm. He faked injury and left.

  Sage lucked out on getting a table just as other shoppers were leaving. If I loitered she might see me watching her. Now would be a good time to sp
rint through Target. I managed to get a nice sweater for my mom in record time.

  Sage was getting up as I walked by, her table instantly swarmed by another group who’d been waiting. I hung back, following her out a little-used back mall exit.

  We’d had a lot of snow recently, so the small back parking lot was half-filled with dirty white snow mountains, over-flow snow from the main lot stored here by the plows. I nodded to a couple of shivering mall workers leaning against a recycling dumpster as they blew smoke through chapped lips.

  My shoulders slumped when I realized I’d lost sight of Sage, probably behind any one of the snow mounds. Just as well. My growing obsession was getting creepy. Best to just forget her for the duration of the holidays.

  Easier said than done.

  My head jerked up at the blast of a gunshot. I spun in the direction of the sound and my heart stopped. Dropping the bag with Mom’s sweater, I sprinted toward the sight of red fabric in a pile of snow. “Sage!”

  2

  Sage

  Was that a gunshot?

  I ducked down into the dirty snow bank like everyone else in the back lot. Everyone except for a tall lanky guy with messy brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses who seemed to be running toward the sound of the blast, toward me. I wasn’t sure if it was the wind warping his voice, but it sounded like he was shouting my name.

  “Sage!”

  He called a third time, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving in his direction.

  My gloved hand found my mouth as I gasped. Lying in the snow not far from where I stood was Santa Claus, blood seeping through a hole is his chest and soaking his white cotton beard. A skinny man tossed a cigarette into the snow and yelled, “I’m calling 911!”

  Any blood on the body blended in with the red of the costume. Apart from the crimson-soaked beard, Santa just looked like he was resting in the snow. Still, it unnerved me to see him lying dead there like that.

  Poking the skinny guy whose back was to me, I asked, “Why were you saying my name?”

  He jumped, eyes wide, jittering like a puppet after the puppeteer had sneezed. If it hadn’t been for the tragic circumstance, I might’ve laughed.

  “Sage?”

  “Yes. Who are you?”

  The guy looked stunned, like he was surprised to see me standing there, then said, “I’m Marlow Henry.”

  Sirens blared in the distance growing increasingly louder as they grew closer. “Why are you following me?” I demanded. After the hell I’d been through recently, I wasn’t in the mood to be messed with.

  He swallowed, but before he could answer me, a black SUV with police lights flashing pulled up. A man and woman, both dressed in black jumped out of the vehicle, flashed badges, then pushed through and began to secure the scene.

  The woman shouted, “Stand back everyone!” Her outstretched hands had the magical effect of moving the people backward over an invisible line. I stepped back too, along with the Marlow guy who’d been shouting my name.

  She stopped us. “Not you two,” she said.

  I shrugged, and said to Marlow, “We are witnesses.” That must be why she pulled us to the side, though I wasn’t sure quite how she knew. The guy who called 911 must’ve said something.

  With nothing more to see, the straggling shoppers dispersed, the icy wind pushing them along. I pulled my jacket tighter, wrapping my arms against the cold. My fingers were frozen, but the heat of my curiosity kept my legs planted.

  “I’m Agent Seaway,” the woman said with another flash of badge. She waved to the man with her. “This is Agent Black.”

  “What’s going on?” Marlow said. Her mouth opened, as if to answer, but then I heard another gunshot. I ducked, but sensed swift movement in front of me. Marlow cried out as he fell, almost pushing me down.

  My heart beat like mad as I registered what happened. Marlow writhed on the ground as he gripped his arm, blood oozing between his fingers. He’d been shot … while jumping in front of me.

  The Santa coat, my coat—both red.

  Oh, my God. Was someone trying to kill me?

  3

  Marlow

  Aghhhhhh! I’d been shot! Oh, God, oh God!

  The agents jumped in. “Stay back everyone!” Agent Seaway said. “Except you.” Even with my eyes pinched closed from the pain I knew who she pointed to. Sage.

  Agent Black used a pocket knife to cut the sleeve of my jacket, the hoodie underneath and my plaid shirt—damn, all my best clothes ruined!

  “It’s a flesh wound,” he said after examining my injury. “You’re lucky.”

  Agent Seaway dug in her bag and unwrapped what I knew from TV advertising was a feminine hygiene product. She placed the mini pad on my bloody wound. “Hold that tight,” she instructed.

  Agent Black helped me to my feet. My knees buckled.

  Sage ducked and searched my eyes. “Are you okay?”

  It hurt like hell, but I attempted to channel whatever tough guy part I might possess. I gritted my teeth and mustered, “I’ll be all right.”

  Within minutes we were strapped into the back of the Hummer, me with my seat almost fully reclined—to ward off a sudden onset of nausea—and our new agent friends in the front. Agent Seaway was driving.

  Sage leaned forward. “What’s going on? Where are you taking us?”

  “All your questions will be answered shortly,” Agent Seaway said. I caught her looking at me in the rear view mirror, briefly, before her gaze returned to the road. She had sharp cheekbones and mousy hair cut in a sharp bob around her ears, and gray emotionless eyes. She shared a calculated look with her partner.

  Police cars and an ambulance raced past in the opposite direction toward the mall, sirens blaring.

  I suddenly felt afraid.

  4

  Sage

  The windows were tinted so darkly I couldn’t make out any landmarks to gauge where we were going. I watched Marlow. He was as pale as Casper and his forehead glistened. The heat was on in the SUV, but not high enough to cause sweating. The way his face tensed, wrinkles pinching around pale green eyes, I could tell he was in pain.

  “Thank you, Marlow,” I said.

  “No problem.” His voice was weak and I thought I’d do him a favor and not ask all the questions that were burning through my mind. At least not right now.

  Things suddenly went even darker as we pulled into an underground garage. I wished I would’ve gotten a better look at those badges. How could we be sure they really were police? Maybe this was some kind of elaborate kidnapping plot?

  Except, I couldn’t think of a reason anyone would want to kidnap me. This had to be all about this Marlow Henry guy. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The red coats? Coincidence, that was all.

  We came to a stop and I pulled on the door handle, but it didn’t budge. They locked us in? Before I could complain, I heard a click and Agent Black opened the door. Another man, short and stocky with a shiny bald head rimmed with short brown hair stood behind him holding onto a wheelchair. Agent Black helped Marlow out of the Hummer and into the chair.

  “This is Agent Drey,” Agent Black said. “We call him Dr. Drey.”

  The doctor eased Marlow out of his jacket and hoodie, an effort made easy since Agent Black had already cut half of it away. He had a kit handy and quickly swabbed the shoulder of Marlow’s good arm before giving him a shot. “For pain and to fight infection,” he said to no one in particular. “He’ll be fine in no time.”

  Once Marlow was set to go, the doctor pushed the wheelchair and we followed Agents Black and Seaway into the building.

  The inside was fairly nondescript. Unadorned off-white walls, unmarked doors. Overly bright fluorescent lighting. It could’ve been any office building in Detroit.

  We entered a small boardroom with a good-sized table surrounded by empty chairs. A large blank monitor screen hung on the far wall. Dr. Drey left Marlow and me with Agent Black and Agent Seaway. I stared at them with as much self-confidence
as I could muster, folding my arms defiantly over my chest. “Are you finally going to tell us what’s going on?”

  “That depends on you and Mr. Henry.”

  “On our what?” I said.

  “On your willingness to agree to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

  I cut a look to Marlow. Who was this guy? And how did I get mixed up with him?

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  “You’re free to go.”

  I stood. “Great. Let’s go.”

  “I’m going to stay,” Marlow said softly. “But I agree that you should go.”

  For some reason that made me mad. I wasn’t a feeble damsel who couldn’t handle whatever weird thing Agent Black was going to say. Besides, I couldn’t just leave Marlow here alone with these guys. I might not know him, but he was in a weakened state.

  “If you stay, I’m staying.”

  “Sage,” Marlow began. “Don’t…”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t get involved.”

  I was aware of how Black and Seaway were following our discussion—eyes earnest with interest.

  Now my curiosity was piqued. What was going on here? And how did it involve Marlow and me?

  “I’m staying,” I said firmly, challenging Marlow with a steely gaze. He let out a breath but didn’t argue.

  He turned to the agents. “What do you want from us?”

  “We want your help,” Seaway said. “But first you have to agree to the terms of the NDA. You must let us erase your memories when everything is over.”

  I burst out laughing. “Erase our memories? What is this?” I swiveled around, searching for hidden cameras. “Are we being punked?”

  Agent Black replied, stone-faced, “I’m being dead serious.”

  “Then I change my mind,” I said. “The answer is no. You can take us home now.”