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

fingers around his, and then let her hand
fall away.
    “ Please take a seat,” I said, gesturing to the remaining chair.
She glanced around the piles of newspapers, then sat in the
chair.
    “ Tea?” I asked her.
    “ That would be nice,” she smiled, pulling back her hood to
reveal a mop of long blonde curly hair. I doubted that her apparent
sadness was the only thing that had attracted Kale’s eye the night
before.
    I went
to the kitchen where I made a fresh pot of tea. Placing three cups,
a small jug of milk and a bowl of sugar onto a tray, I carried the
tea back into the living room, where Kale and the young woman sat
facing each other in silence. The china teacups clinked in their
saucers as I placed the tray down on the table. I poured the tea
and added a splash of milk to each cup and handed one to the woman.
Kale took one for himself. I went to my chair by the window and sat
down. Looking across the room, I watched the woman stir a spoonful
of sugar into her tea.
    Once she
was settled and had taken a sip of the hot tea, I said, “My friend,
Kale, has explained that you need some help.”
    “ Yes,” she nodded, glancing at me then at Kale.
    “ You said, something last night about a dog,” Kale reminded
her.
    “ Someone cut the dog’s head clean off,” she said. “I had never
seen so much blood. It was terrifying.”
    Kale and
I glanced at each other, then back at the young woman.
    “ Tell us what has happened from the beginning,” I said. “Then
we shall see if we can help you.”
    “ My name is Wendy Creswell,” she said, placing the teacup onto
the table and folding her hands in the lap of her skirt. “I am
twenty-five years old and live in the village of Little Choke,
which is about twenty miles from here along the coast. I am an
orphan. Both of my parents died in a car crash when I was very
young. With no immediate family to look after me, I was raised in
care and foster homes. It was then, much to my surprise, I
discovered I had been left an inheritance by a distant uncle on my
mother’s side of the family. The inheritance consisted of £150,000
and a small house in Little Choke. The house is liveable, but parts
are in desperate need of repair. Wanting to put my past behind me
and wanting to fulfil my dream of becoming a writer, I moved into
the house that had been left for me. It had stood empty for many
years, but by using some of the money that had been left to me, I
paid for some work to be done and it was soon fit for me to move
into. Like I said, the house is still in need of repair, and it is
my plan to build a small extension at the back of the house which I
can use as a place to write. I envisage large windows where I can
sit on a summer’s day and look out across the garden. When I
thought my life was complete and I couldn’t be happier, a man named
Ethan Cole came into my life. He lives on the other side of the
village in a small farmhouse. We met while I was out walking in the
meadows this Easter. He is five years older than me and very
handsome. He is some kind of computer engineer. I don’t even
pretend to understand the complexities of his work. But we do have
something that binds us, and that is our love for the written word.
As much as I love to write he loves to read – plays in particular.
He is part of a small amateur dramatic society and they often put
on small plays in the village hall. Therefore, it wasn’t long
before we became more than just good friends. I would either spend
some nights at his farmhouse or he would stay at mine. I would
often tell Ethan my dreams and the plans I had to build my own very
little writing sanctuary at the rear of the house. Like I said, I
couldn’t be happier, I had a house of my own, I had started to sell
my stories on the Internet, and had fallen in love,” Wendy
explained.
    “ So what happened to change all of that?” I asked
her.
    Wendy
took another sip of her tea. The sound of the cup clinking in the
saucer drew attention to