November Lake: Teenage Detective (The November Lake Mysteries) Book 1 (10 page)

“
I closed the door an inch and cowered behind it. The sight of
him scared me. I asked what he wanted.

‘“
Have you seen my dog?’ he asked, his voice a gruff whisper
behind his matted beard.

“‘
Dog?’ I asked, recoiling at the smell of his rancid
breath.

‘“
It’s got away from me,’ he said. His voice was so quiet, I
could barely hear him.

‘‘
I haven’t seen any dog…’ I started.

‘“
I think he has run into your garden,’ he said. ‘Can I take a
look?’

“‘
I haven’t seen any dog,’ I tried to assure him, just wanting
the stranger to go away.

‘“
It won’t take a minute,’ he said, taking a step closer to my
front door.

“
Fearing that I wouldn’t be rid of this man unless he searched
my back garden for his dog, but not wanting him in my house, I
closed the front door another inch, telling him through the gap
that he could get into my garden via the path at the side of the
house and that the back gate could be opened by pressing the latch.
The strange man grunted, then shuffled away, his back curved with
its grotesque-looking lump.

“
Closing the front door behind him, I shut the bolt and went to
my kitchen. I watched the trampish-looking man shuffle into my back
garden. For what seemed like an eternity, the man plodded up and
down the length of my garden, peering into the bushes and
flowerbeds. He stopped several times and looked at the ground. He
stamped on it with his muddy boots then moved on again. When I had
just started to fear that he was never going to leave, he shuffled
back over to the garden gate and left. I went to the front of my
house, and from behind the living room curtains, I watched him make
his way up the front garden path and along the street and out of my
view. No sooner had he gone, then I called Ethan’s
mobile.

‘“
What’s wrong, Wendy?’ Ethan asked at the sound of my shaking
voice. ‘Are you okay?’

“
I told Ethan about the odd man, telling him how much he had
spooked me.

“‘
Give me an hour or so to finish up my work and I’ll be over,’
he tried to comfort me.

“‘
Please, hurry,’ I whispered into the phone. ‘I don’t think the
man was looking for a dog at all.’

“‘
What makes you say that?’ Ethan asked me.

“‘
Because all the time he was searching my garden, I never once
heard that man call out the dog’s name,’ I said.

“
Ethan had arrived in less than an hour and I fell into his
arms. Sensing how much the stranger’s visit had scared me, Ethan
stayed the night. But even as I lay in his arms, my head resting
against his bare chest, all I could see when I closed my eyes was
that disgusting man. I must have drifted off to sleep in the early
hours of the morning, because when I woke daylight was pouring into
my room through the bedroom windows and Ethan had gone. I looked at
the bedside clock and could see that it was just after 11 a.m.
Climbing out of bed, I went downstairs and into the kitchen to make
a pot of tea. Through the window I could see Ethan standing out on
the lawn, hands on hips as he stared down at something on the
grass. Leaving the kettle to boil on the stove, I pushed open the
kitchen door and stepped out into the garden. The dew-covered grass
oozed between my bare toes. Ethan must have heard the door open, as
he spun around and waving one hand at me he said, ‘Go back inside
the house, Wendy. Don’t come over here. You don’t need to see
this.’

“
But it was too late. I had already seen it. With my hands to
my face, I stared at the body of the beheaded dog that lay in my
garden. Someone or something had cut the Alsatian’s head off at the
neck. There was so much blood that it had turned the green grass
black. Gasping in fright, I stumbled backwards toward the open
door. Seeing the fear in my eyes, Ethan rushed forward and led me
back into the house. He helped me down into a chair at the kitchen
table.

“‘
It’s that man’s dog,’ I panted as if struggling to catch my
breath.

‘“
Drink this,’ Ethan said, handing me a glass of cold
water.

“‘
What’s it doing dead in my garden?’ I said, heart racing. ‘And
why has its head been cut off?’

‘“
I don’t know,’ Ethan said, taking the chair next to mine and
taking my hands in his. His face had drained of colour, leaving him
looking gaunt and haunted.

“‘
Do you think that strange man did it?’ I asked, trying to make
sense of what was now lying in my garden.

‘“
Why would he cut his own dog’s head off and leave it in your
back garden?’ Ethan said, staring at me. He looked as confused as I
felt.

“‘
You didn’t see him, Ethan,’ I said. ‘He really creeped me
out.’

“
Ethan took a sip of the water, then said, ‘Perhaps his dog did
run off and it was found digging up someone else’s garden. They
killed it and dumped it here?’

“
I looked at him wide-eyed and said, ‘You’ve lived in this
village longer than I have, but do you really think that someone
local is really capable of doing such a thing? And why dump the
dead dog in my garden?’

‘“
I don’t know,’ Ethan said, drawing a deep breath and blowing
out his cheeks.

“‘
Do you think we should call the police?’ I asked
him.

‘“
And say what?’ he asked me. ‘That we’ve found a decapitated
dog in the garden but we have no idea who did it or how it got
there? I think the best thing to do is bury it.’

“‘
Not in my garden,’ I said, jumping up. ‘I just want it out of
here.’

‘“
Okay, okay,’ Ethan hushed, taking me in his arms and holding
me tight to him. ‘Why don’t you go and shower while I deal with the
dead dog.’

“
Slipping from his arms, I went and showered and as I stood
beneath the steaming water, I tried to wash thoughts of that man
and his dog away. After putting on a fresh set of clothes, I made
my way back downstairs. The dog was gone and Ethan was standing in
the garden washing away the blood with the water that splashed from
the hose. From the open kitchen doorway, I said ‘Where is it? Have
you buried it?’

‘“
I’ve wrapped it up in some old tarpaulin I found in your
shed,’ Ethan explained, looking back over his shoulder at me. ‘I’ve
hidden it around the back of the shed so it’s out of sight. There’s
not much more I can do for now as I’ve got a job on this afternoon
for a client, but I’ll be back later.’

“
Ethan turned off the water and came toward me. Although part
of me didn’t want to be left alone, I felt better that the dog had
at least been moved from where I could see it. I did feel a little
creeped out that it was still in my garden, even though it was
right out of sight.

“
As if sensing that I still felt a little upset by the whole
incident, Ethan took me in his arms and kissed me gently on the tip
of my nose. ‘I’ll go and sort out this job, then I’ll go home, put
on some old clothes, and take the dog up to the pet cemetery, and
that will be the end of it. I won’t be more than a few hours. I
promise.’

“
I held onto him for a few moments longer, feeling safe in his
strong arms. At last I let him go. We kissed and he left. I slid
the bolt firm in place, locking my front door. I went back to the
kitchen where my laptop sat on the table. I had been halfway
through writing my next book, but it was hard to find the flow. The
words almost seemed to clank and jolt from my brain, down and out
of my fingers to the keys and onto the screen, whereas they usually
flowed. I don’t know how much time had passed as I sat at the
kitchen table when I was startled by a noise from the garden.
Springing up out of my chair, I went to the window. With images of
a headless dog staggering across the lawn, I peered out into the
garden, a sharp gasp tearing up out of my throat. The tramp-like
man was now back in my garden. And just as he had on his previous
visit, he was once again searching my garden for his dog. He
shuffled up and down, stopping every now and then to look down at
the ground from behind his thick black glasses. He would then stomp
on the grass with his worn-looking boots, then hobble on again,
stooped forward. He had come back in search of his dog. But it was
dead and now wrapped in tarpaulin and hidden behind my garden shed.
Not knowing what to do, I stepped back from the window. But I was
too late. Before I had slipped back into the shadows of my kitchen,
the hunched-back man with his unkempt beard looked up at me. I
froze, my skin becoming tight with gooseflesh. He shuffled forward
and peered in at me through the window.

‘“
Dog,’ he breathed, the pane of glass clouding over with his
vile breath. He smeared it away with his grime-covered hand. The
sound it made was like the blade of a dull knife been scrapped over
bone. I shuddered.

‘“
Dog,’ he whispered again as he stared into the kitchen at
me.

“
Heart racing, I made my way toward the kitchen door, and
turning the key, I opened it just a crack. I stared around the edge
of the door at him. His mud-covered coat flapped about the shins of
his worn trousers. He shuffled to the door, and I closed it a
fraction more.

“
With my mouth turning dry, I looked at him and said, ‘“What
kind of dog are you looking for?’

“‘
Big one,’ he mumbled, his voice low and deep.

‘“
Was it an Alsatian?’ I asked, just wanting him to go
away.

He
nodded his giant head, making a grunting noise in the back of his
throat.

“
Drawing a deep breath in an attempt to steady my racing heart,
I said, ‘“I’m very sorry to tell you that your dog is dead. Me and
my husband found it this morning lying on the grass.’ I lied about
Ethan being my husband as I wanted this wretched man to believe
that there was a man living at the house with me. I didn’t want him
to know that I lived alone.

‘“
Dead?’ the man breathed behind his tangled and matted
beard.

‘“
I’m very sorry,’ I said.

“‘
Where?’ the stranger breathed, shuffling around, the lump
beneath his coat, rising up like a small hill in the centre of his
back.

‘“
My husband has wrapped the dog up in some tarpaulin and placed
your dog out of the way behind the shed,’ I explained. ‘We couldn’t
have just left it lying in the middle of the garden you
understand.’

“
Without looking back, the man shuffled over toward the shed,
disappearing behind it. He seemed to be around there a very long
time. I opened the door another inch or two, but could hear
nothing. ‘Hello?’ I called out. Nothing. Pushing the door wide, I
stepped out into the garden and crept toward the shed. Then just as
I reached it, the man loomed up before me from behind the shed. I
gasped and staggered backwards. It was only then, as he towered
over me in the open, I realised how tall he was. He must have been
six-foot-six at least, even when stooped forward. I had never seen
such a hulk of a man. Just as I was about to scream for him to
leave and get out of my garden, his giant shoulders began to heave
up and down as he started to sob.

‘“
My dog,’ he cried, making a hitching noise in the back of his
throat. ‘My dog is dead.’

“
I glanced around the side of the shed and could see that he
had unwound the tarpaulin Ethan had wrapped the dog in. I cringed
away at the sight of the mound of bristling black fur and the blood
that was smeared over it. I looked back at the giant lump of a man
as he stood and sobbed before me. And even though the sight of him
repulsed and scared me, I suddenly found myself feeling sorry for
him. I guessed the dog had been his sole companion in life – his
best friend.

‘“
I’m sorry,’ I whispered, now feeling suddenly very
uncharitable. ‘My husband is going to bury the dog in the pet
cemetery for you.’

“‘
My dog,’ the man sniffed back his tears. ‘I’ll bury
it.’

“
A sudden sense of relief washed over me and again I felt
suddenly selfish. But if this man wanted to take the dead dog now
then he would never need to come back and that would be the last I
saw of him.

‘“
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.