November Lake: Teenage Detective (The November Lake Mysteries) Book 1

by Jamie Drew

  ‘“If that’s what you want,’ I said.

  ‘“Wheelbarrow?’ the giant man mumbled at me.

  ‘“Sure,’ I said, turning back toward the shed where the wheelbarrow was kept. Then realising the key to it was on my key ring, along with my house and car keys, I looked back at the man and added, ‘I’ve just got to fetch the key. I will back in a moment.’

  “‘I headed back into the kitchen where my handbag hung from the back of the kitchen chair. I reached in and fished out the keys. With them dangling from my fist, I turned around to discover the man was now standing in my kitchen. His back was to the door, which had now been closed. To see his massive bulk before it, I wondered how he had ever managed to fit through the door. I suddenly felt very angry, but more scared he had dared come into my home uninvited.

  ‘“What are you doing in my house?’ I demanded. ‘Get out!’ Although my fists were clenched with anger, I dared not move from the spot.

  “Slowly he lumbered toward me. I could see my own pale and fearful face reflected back in the dark lenses of his glasses.

  “‘Telephone?’ he breathed and again I recoiled at the stench of his foul and rancid breath. ‘Can’t just bury my dog in the cemetery; need permission from local council.’

  “As he spoke, I got a flash of his teeth, and they were nothing more than brown festering stumps. I made a gaging noise and covered my nose and mouth with my hand. He didn’t seem to be bothered by my look of revulsion. It was a reaction I guessed he had come accustomed to. Any pity I had once felt for him was now gone. I just wanted him away from me and out of my house.

  “I pointed to the telephone that sat on the work surface on the other side of the kitchen. ‘Make your call, then take your dog and leave me alone.’

  “The man turned and hobbled back across the kitchen, leaving a trail of muddy boot prints over the tiled floor. He picked up the copy of the Yellow Pages that sat beside the phone and thumbed through it with his grubby hands. Once he had found the number he was looking for, he punched it into the phone with one black thumb. I cowered in the corner of the kitchen and watched him raise the phone to the side of his face. Stooping forward and with his back to me, he spoke into the phone. I couldn’t make out one single word of the conversation, as once again he spoke in that low, muffled voice. After what seemed like an eternity, he placed the phone down and turned to look at me once more.

  ‘“I come back tomorrow night for the dog,’ he mumbled at me.

  ‘“Tomorrow night?’ I gasped. ‘No, that isn’t soon enough. You take the dog now.’ I just wanted to be rid of this man.

  ‘“They need time to dig grave,’ he said, sounding as if he were gargling on a throat full of gravel. ‘I come back tomorrow night.’

  “I glanced sideways out of the window and into the garden. The dog was still hidden from view. What would another night matter? Could I really expect this homeless guy to wander the streets with his dead dog until the council had made preparations up at the pet cemetery? I looked back at the man. If he had to come back tomorrow, I would make sure Ethan was with me. I would feel safer with him at my side.

  ‘“You come back tomorrow night and take your dog or I’ll bury it myself. I just want this over with,’ I warned him. ‘Now please leave, my husband is due home at any moment.’

  “Hearing this, the man grunted, then shuffled back toward the kitchen door. He opened it and stepped outside. I leapt across the kitchen and wasted no time in locking it shut behind him. From the safety of my kitchen, I watched the man head around the side of my house. I raced to the living room windows and watched him hobble away down the front garden, up the street, and out of sight. Once I was sure he had gone, I went back to the kitchen and plucked up the phone. I needed to hear Ethan’s voice. I needed his reassurance that everything was going to be okay and that he would be back soon. Then, as I looked down at the phone, a sudden thought occurred to me. With my finger poised over the redial button, I felt my stomach knot. I pressed the button, bringing the phone up to my ear. I could hear the sound of a dial tone, then a click on the line as the phone connected. But instead of the receptionist at the council offices answering the phone, I heard the artificial and robotic voice of the talking clock. With my heart thrumming in my chest, I knew the strange man had only pretended to call the council to make arrangements to bury his dog. So why then hadn’t he taken his dead dog and why was he coming back tomorrow night?

  “With my legs feeling weak at the knees, I cut off the voice of the talking clock, and dialled Ethan’s number. He answered almost at once.

  ‘“Hey, Wendy, is everything okay? I’ve been trying to call you, but the line has been engaged. I think your mobile must be switched off too,’ he said.

  “I plucked my phone from my jeans pocket and could see that the battery was dead – as dead as the dog outside in my garden. It was with thoughts of that dog racing around in my mind that I couldn’t hold back the tears that had been threatening ever since I had discovered that man in my kitchen.

  “‘Hey, sweetheart,’ Ethan said down the phone, his voice now brimming with concern. ‘What’s happened? Is everything all right?’

  “Through my tears and running nose, I told Ethan everything that had happened since he had left for work earlier that day. I explained how the man had come back, then had come uninvited into my house, then had pretended to ring the council to make arrangements to bury his dog. ‘Please hurry home,’ I whispered into the phone, just wanting to be held by him. ‘I’m scared, Ethan.’

  “There was a long silence.

  “‘Ethan, are you still there?’

  “‘Wendy, I can’t come home, not right now, not until tomorrow evening,’ he finally said.

  “‘What?’ I gasped. ‘You have to.’

  “‘The job for that client I told you about has turned into a bloody nightmare,’ he started to explain. ‘That’s why I’ve been trying to call you. I’ve had to drive to Birmingham…’

  “‘Birmingham? But that’s hundreds of miles away,’ I breathed in horror.

  ‘You’ve got to believe me, there was nothing I could do about it,’ he said. ‘The client’s whole computer system has crashed. I’ve got to go to their head office to reboot it. I’ll be back tomorrow night, before this guy comes back, I promise.’

  ‘“But what about tonight?’ I said, feeling suddenly angry and let down by him. ‘What if he comes back tonight?’

  “‘Why would he?’ Ethan asked. ‘He said he would be back tomorrow night.’

  ‘“That man said he had phoned the council and that was a lie,’ I reminded him. ‘I don’t ever want to see him again. He freaks me out. I don’t think he cares about the dog. I think it was him who killed the dog and left it in the garden.’

  ‘“Why would he kill his own dog?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘“To get close to me,’ I whispered, fearing that I was sounding paranoid. But I couldn’t help how I felt. ‘He scares me, Ethan. I don’t want to be here on my own with him hanging about.’

  “There was another pause, then Ethan said, ‘I have an idea.’

  ‘“What?’ I asked.

  ‘“Pack a small case and book yourself into a motel further along the coast. Book a room for a few nights. When I get back tomorrow evening, I’ll be waiting for this man. I’ll make sure he takes his bloody dog away. He won’t scare me so easily. Then, once he and his dog have gone, I’ll come and join you. We could spend a couple of days together… you know, have some fun. It will help you take your mind off things. And when you get back home with a clear head, you’ll be able to put this all behind you and forget that man ever existed. What do you say? Does it sound like a plan?”’

  ‘“Yes,’ I whispered into the phone. What Ethan had suggested made sense, but I still wished he was with me.

  ‘“So go pack some stuff together, and when you have the address of where you’re staying, text it to me and I’ll meet you there once I’ve sorted out this guy and his dead dog.’


  ‘“Okay,’ I said, wiping the last of my tears away. I was starting to feel a little better, knowing that I would never have to see that man again once Ethan had dealt with him. Before hanging up the phone, I added, ‘I love you, Ethan.’

  “‘I love you more,’ he whispered back, then the line went dead.

  “So taking Ethan’s advice, I hurriedly packed a case and drove along the coast to here, Havensfield, arriving yesterday evening. I booked into the motel and as promised I text Ethan the address. I then took a walk along the shore and made my way into town where I bought myself a cup of tea. But once away from home, all those feelings of fear and dread came rushing out of me. Although I now felt safe, I feared for Ethan. He is kind and gentle and would do anything for me. He would be no match for the giant of a man who had scared me so much. It was then as I sat and sobbed that you kindly came over and spoke to me,” Wendy said looking at Kale.

  “I’m so glad I did now,” Kale said.

  “Once back at my motel, I kept looking down at the card you had given me. You told me that you were a police officer, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Ethan had been wrong in his reluctance in calling the police after we had discovered the dead dog in the garden. Fearing for what Ethan might find when he returns to my house tonight I knew that nothing could be lost by speaking discreetly to you and asking for your advice. That is why I have come here this morning,” Wendy said, staring back at both of us.

  “And I’m so glad you did,” I said, pouring her a cup of fresh tea from the pot. “Not only is it the most interesting story I have ever heard, you have done the right thing by taking your boyfriend’s advice and fleeing your home.”

  “Do you think this man wants to harm me?” Wendy asked, her eyes growing wider.

  “I think the harm has already been done,” I said, getting up from my chair and standing by the window. I looked out at the overcast sky. It was still raining.

  “What do you mean?” Wendy asked. The tremor was back in her voice.

  Ignoring Wendy’s question, I turned to face her. Kale was staring at me as I stood with my back to the window. “I have three questions I would like to ask you,” I told her.

  “What are the three questions?” she asked back.

  “Apart from your boyfriend, who else have you told about the plans you have to make improvements to your home?” I asked.

  “No one,” she said with a frown.

  “What was the weather like the day that this stranger first came to your home?” I said.

  “It was just like today, overcast and wet,” Wendy said.

  “And my last question. Other than you, who else has seen this strange man that has scared you so much?” I asked her.

  “Only I have met him,” she said, looking at me. Then, putting down her cup, she got to her feet. “I haven’t imagined this man, if that is what you are implying. I know that I am a writer and have a vivid imagination, but everything I have told you is true. This man really does exist.”

  “And that is what I fear,” I said, matching her stare.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Ignoring another of her questions, I said, “What is the address of your motel?”

  She told me and Kale wrote it down in a notebook he pulled from his coat pocket. “Go back to the motel and get some rest, as I believe we will all have a very long and dangerous night ahead of us.”

  “Why, what is happening tonight?” Wendy asked, looking at Kale then back at me for answers.

  “We are going back to Little Choke to confront this stranger who has scared you,” I said. “We will come and collect you tonight. You will follow us back in your car. But you must not tell anyone of our plan, not even Ethan if you care for his safety. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Wendy said with a nod of her head.

  “We will see you at six tonight,” I said. “And do not worry. This stranger will no longer trouble you after tonight. That I can promise you.”

  Wendy picked up the small case she had brought with her, and I ushered her back down the stairs and out of the front door. She stepped out into the rain. I closed the front door and headed back up the stairs to my rooms.

  “I told you it would be a great mystery, didn’t I?” Kale said, his blue eyes bright and keen. “Have you ever heard anything so strange?”

  “It is certainly that,” I said.

  “So what do you think, November?” Kale beamed with his boyish grin. “I have my own theories, but I want to hear yours first.”

  “Let me show you something,” I said, heading across the poky room to the far wall where a pile of newspapers rested. Thumbing through the pile, I pulled one out. It was tinged yellow and the corners of the pages were curled up. I opened the newspaper and pointed to a column of print.

  “What’s that?” Kale frowned.

  “Read it,” I smiled.

  “I’m going to sit quietly in my chair by the window and listen to my iPod,” I said, heading back across the room.

  “What’s the newspaper cutting about?” Kale asked.

  “It tells the story of Veronica Straw, who went missing several years ago,” I smiled, closing my eyes and switching on my iPod.

  Once Kale and I had discussed and agreed on a plan of action, I telephoned Sergeant Black. There was no answer. We didn’t have time to wait for him to switch his phone back on, so I left a message on his answerphone. We then set off to meet with Wendy Creswell as earlier planned.

  She was waiting in the lobby of the motel. Once she had placed her case in the boot of her car, we set off into the night, with Wendy following behind. I had told that on the outskirts of the village of Little Choke she was to overtake us, make her way to the pet cemetery. I sat beside Kale as he drove along the coastal roads in the direction of Little Choke. The earlier rain clouds had cleared and the sky was now bright with moonlight. Kale and I spoke very little, as both of us considered the course of action we had planned. After Kale had read the newspaper article I’d given him, I explained my theory. Together we sat in the fading light as rain spattered the window by my chair. Kale put ideas forward for the plan and I agreed. I liked Kale. He was fun to work with and his enthusiasm for discovering the truth was as great as mine. We both approached the mysteries we came across from different angles, but we always met somewhere in the middle. He could be cocky at times, but we made a good team and I trusted him.

  Just as planned, as we reached the outskirts of Little Choke, Kale slowed and Wendy overtook us in her car. We followed her as she made her way along the narrow and winding roads that led to the cemetery. Wind gusted against the side of Kale’s car and I was glad that I hadn’t made the journey on my motorbike. In the distance, at the top of a small hill, I could just make out a set of black iron gates that towered up into the night. Wendy headed toward them, eventually slowing to a stop. I climbed from Kale’s car and he went to the boot where he grabbed a torch.

  “Handcuffs?” I asked him.

  He opened the front of his coat and I could see them attached to his belt. They gleamed in the moonlight. He closed his coat again as it flapped about his legs in the wind. Wendy pulled the hood of her coat up over her head and bent forward as we approached the cemetery gates. They screeched as we opened them and stepped inside. Fallen leaves blew amongst the tiny headstones. Kale cast his torch over the ground and amongst the trees. Just ahead, I could see what I had come to find. Three of us, bent against the wind, cut across the cemetery. We stopped before the large grave that had been freshly dug.

  “The grave has already been dug,” Wendy said, looking at me. “Is it for the dog that I found in my garden?”

  “Yes,” Kale said, over the cry of the wind.

  “Who dug it?” she asked.

  “The council did,” I told her.

  “But…” she started, looking confused.

  “I telephoned the council offices this afternoon and they confirmed that a request had been made yesterday for a grave big e
nough for a large dog to be dug,” I explained.

  “But that man never really telephoned the council offices,” Wendy reminded me.

  “That’s because the request had already been made by another,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “A Mr. Baxter,” Kale said. “Ever heard of him?”

  “No,” Wendy said with a shake of her head.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “What does matter is that the grave has been dug for the dog. Now I think we should make our way through the village to your house.”

  “On foot?” Wendy asked me.

  “We don’t want to spook the man when he comes for his dog tonight,” Kale said.

  “Do you have the keys to your shed on you?” I asked her.

  She fished them from her coat pocket and held them up.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Your shed will be our hiding place.”

  With Wendy at our heels, we made our way back across the cemetery. Back at the cars, Kale and Wendy reversed them into the shadows beneath some large trees, where they were hidden from view. Together, the three of us set off in silence as we followed Wendy through the village of Little Choke toward her house. Just as she had described it, Wendy’s house was set back from the road. There was a small front garden with a path. We made our way along it and past the front of her house, which sat in darkness. Wendy led us into the garden. Moonlight streamed down from above, illuminating the lawn. It couldn’t have been better. Kale switched off his torch and we made our way in silence to the shed. Wendy unlocked the door. Kale reached inside and pulled out the wheelbarrow. The front wheel made a shrill squeaking noise as it turned. There was a spade just inside the door, so I took hold of it and placed it in the wheelbarrow.

  “You’re not meant to be helping this guy,” Wendy said.

  “Shhh!” I warned, placing one finger against my lips. “We don’t want him breaking into the shed, as we will be hiding in there. He will think you left them out for him to use.”

  Without saying another word, the three of us crept into the shed.