November Lake: Teenage Detective (The November Lake Mysteries) Book 1 by Jamie Drew

Author:Jamie Drew
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: mystery, detective, young adult, ya, girls, teen, romance, books, teen 13 and up, thriller

The Menacing Stranger

“Someone had cut the dog’s head clean off,” Wendy Creswell said. “I had never seen so much blood. It was terrifying.”

Wendy Creswell sat opposite me in my poky upstairs apartment. Kale sat in the chair beside me. We glanced at each other, then back at Wendy. She sat on the very edge of the threadbare chair, her face pale and thin hands folded in her lap. Her visit to my apartment had been a total surprise. I had never laid eyes on her before she rang my doorbell just half an hour ago. She was a complete stranger to me. But Wendy wasn’t the only visitor to have surprised me that morning. I hadn’t been up and out of bed long, only long enough to shower, scrape my hair into a ponytail, throw on an old pair of jeans and sweater. Munching on the corner of a slice of toast, I had been standing in the middle of my small living room, staring down at the mountain of newspapers that had reported on my father’s murder.

DEAD COP! COP KILLER! HERO COP IS SLAINE ON DUTY! I was morbidly fascinated by each of them, because I hoped that a clue to the identity of my father’s killer might be hidden amongst the newspaper reports. Chewing on the last corner of the toast, my doorbell rang. I glanced at my watch and could see that it was yet 9 a.m. Who could be calling so early on a Saturday morning? I went to the window and glanced down at the street below. The sky was overcast and it was raining. Kale was standing at my door, the collar of his coat pulled up against the wind and rain. What could he want? Police training school had broken yesterday for Halloween. Kale had said that he was going to his parents’. I had still yet to meet them. My previous attempt to do so had resulted in us being caught up in what Kale liked to now call The Mystery of The Blackwater Farm kidnapper. Instead of staying at his parents’ in their remote holiday cottage in the Peak District and cramming for our upcoming police exam, Kale had spent the weekend having sleeping pills pumped from his stomach and smoke from his lungs. The following Monday morning we had both sat through our first police exam, which we had needed to pass if we weren’t to be back-coursed five weeks. It was with some nervousness that we awaited our results. Together we had been summoned to our trainer’s office. Sergeant Black sat behind his desk, our test results on the table before him. With a grim look on his face, he handed them to us. I looked down at my score, and then sideways at Kale and the piece of paper he was holding in his hands. Both of us had passed, but only just.

“I had been expecting more from two of my brightest students,” Sergeant Black said, sounding disappointed.

“We passed, didn’t we?” Kale said, glancing up.

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