November Lake: Teenage Detective (The November Lake Mysteries) Book 1 (6 page)

As if
reading my mind, Kale stopped mid-sentence. He looked down again at
the man. “What’s your name?”

“
Clive,” he said.

“
Last name?” I asked.

“
You don’t need to know that,” he said, pulling himself up into
a seated position against the hay. I was glad now that we hadn’t
revealed what we were to him. He probably thought we were just a
couple of harmless kids on our way home after a night
out.

“
We need to know something about you if we’re going to help
you,” Kale said. “Or perhaps we should call the police?” Kale took
his phone from his pocket.

“
No!” the man barked, raising one hand in the air. “Don’t call
the police.”

“
Why not?” I asked, kneeling beside him. “If your sister has
been kidnapped like you say she has, then shouldn’t the authorities
be called in to help?”

“
It’s not that simple,” Clive winced again through the
pain.

“
It seems simple enough to me,” Kale said, eyeing the man on
the ground.

Drawing
a deep breath that made a rattling sound in the back of his throat,
the stranger started to explain. “Fifteen years ago, I was just a
kid – twenty – I committed an armed robbery. Not on my own. With a
friend. Morris Cook. We got away with a few thousand, or so we
thought. But we were wrong, or at least in some small part. Morris
was caught, left some DNA at the scene – a hair or summin like
that. But Morris never gave me up. He kept silent about who was
with him that day and where the money was. He got twelve years and
served every moment. But twelve years is a long time in a young
man’s life. Morris changed while in jail, and I changed, too.
Whereas Mo became hardened, I took another path. The money didn’t
last long. It soon went on women, drinking beer, and smoking pot.
When the money ran out, I ran out, too. I ran out on Mo. Although
twelve years seemed like forever, I could never quite forget that
Mo would someday be released and he would come looking for me and
his share of the money.

“
So I moved away, got a job, and eked out a life for myself. I
wanted a quiet life. Like I said, I was just a kid the day I
committed that robbery. And in the twelve years since, I’ve had
plenty of time to think and grow up. I never married, but when my
parents got divorced, my kid sister, Sarah, came to live with me.
She’s eighteen now, and never has a brother been more proud. She’s
not like me. Sarah is smart. Going off to University she
is.

“
Then, just like I feared he always would, Mo showed back up in
my life. It seemed that I hadn’t run far enough. He wanted his
share of the money. He had little prospects of getting a job like I
had done. Who was going to employ someone who had just served a
twelve-year stretch for robbery? When I told him I had none of the
money left, Mo went berserk. I offered to pay him back out of my
wages. I could pay him a few hundred every month. That was the most
I could afford. I was a mechanic in a small garage and didn’t earn
a fortune. Mo took the money, but with each passing month, he
demanded more and more. When I refused, he threatened to tell the
law that it was me who was with him that day and had committed the
robbery. He said he had evidence – proof – that I was with him. But
worse than that, he threatened to tell Sarah about me. I couldn’t
have that. I couldn’t have Sarah think bad of me. I didn’t want her
to know about my past. It would’ve broken her heart to think of me
as some criminal. So I kept paying the money each month to Mo until
I had paid him back more than we had ever stolen. But still he
wanted extra until I was paying him more each month than I actually
got in my pay pack. All I had left was my home, and I wasn’t going
to sell that. It was for me and Sarah. It was our home. So I took
out loans, ran up huge bills on credit cards until I was drowning
under a sea of debt. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing as the banks
chased me for money. I had debt collectors banging on my door day
and night while Morris slept peacefully in the remote farmhouse he
had bought with the money I had given him each month. It was only a
matter of time before Sarah realised that something was very wrong.
I wasn’t sleeping and I looked like shit most of the time. Then one
night I broke down and told her everything. She held me close, and
for the first time since Mo’s return, I felt as if I could breathe
again. Sarah didn’t judge me like I feared she would.

“
So when he showed up again demanding money, I told him I had
explained everything to my sister. I wanted him to know he couldn’t
threaten me – hold me to ransom anymore. He reminded me that he
still had evidence that it was me who had committed that crime with
him all those years ago. But it was never really the fear of going
to prison that had made me hand over the money to him each month,
it was the fear of what my kid sister would think of me and the
fear of who would look after her if her brother was in prison. But
even as Morris skulked away, I knew that he would always have some
kind of hold over my life as long as he had that evidence against
me. My sister saw this unease in me too. But she had her own life
to lead. A few months ago she set off traveling across Europe with
a friend – or so I thought.”

“
Where had she really gone?” I asked, sitting now on the
hay-covered ground, torch casting an eerie beam of light up into
the barn roof. Kale was still standing, arms crossed over his chest
as he looked down at the man.

“
Sarah had tracked down Morris and befriended him,” Clive said,
looking down at his blood-covered hand, then back at me.

“
She had become your tormentor’s friend?” I gasped.

“
I received a letter from my sister a week ago,” Clive
continued to explain. “In the letter she explained how she had
tricked Morris into believing she liked him. He had never met my
sister, so he was unaware of her true identity. Sarah had wanted to
get close to him, hoping he might brag about his past, and in doing
so, give away where he kept hidden this evidence against me. She
told me in her letter that she finally knew where this evidence was
kept. Sarah said she was going to try and take it without raising
Morris’s suspicions. That was the last I heard from her. There was
no address in the letter she sent me. After two days of pacing back
and forth, fearing that Morris had discovered who she really was, I
received another letter, and my fears were proved right. This
letter was from Morris. In it, he explained how he had discovered
my sister’s true identity, and unless I signed the deeds of my
house over to him, as that is all I have left of any value, then I
would never see Sarah again. In his letter, he gave me the address
of Blackwater Farm, which is just on the other side of this field.
I went to my solicitor at once and had the deeds to my house made
over to Morris Cook.” Making a hitching sound in the back of his
throat, Clive reached into his coat with one blood-stained hand and
pulled out a plain brown envelope. “So I brought the deeds out
here, but I was running out of time and petrol. So I stopped at the
garage to fill up, as I was running on empty and I didn’t want to
get stranded out here on these remote roads and unable to get to
the farm and save my sister.” Pausing, Clive looked at me. “It was
then that I saw you. It was like looking at my sister. You look so
much alike, you could be her reflection. At first my heart leapt as
I thought my sister had managed to escape Morris, but as I stared
at you, I realised that in fact you were not my sister, and she was
still being held against her will by Morris. So not wanting to
waste one more second, I paid at the pump and raced
away.”

I looked
up at Kale, who gave me a knowing smile.

“
But I got lost on these narrow country roads. I am unfamiliar
with the area and the roads all look the same. Somewhere I must
have taken a wrong turn, as I found myself heading away from my
sister and not toward her. It was then, as I tried to navigate the
winding roads, I came across you in the fog. You just suddenly
appeared ahead of me.”

“
So you decided to ram us into the nearest ditch,” Kale
said.

“
No,” he shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. All I wanted to do
was to get past you. It was never my intention to force you off the
road. I looked back to make sure you were okay, and that’s when I
hit the tree. I made my way blindly through the fog, the urgency to
save my sister forcing me on. It was then I came across your car.
We must have passed each other in the fog. The car was locked and
there were no keys to be taken. If there had of been, don’t you
think I would’ve taken your car to get to my sister instead of
staggering, wounded, across these muddy fields? Why would I waste
such time?”

I looked
at Kale. We had a guy here who had just unknowingly confessed to
taking part in a twelve-year-old robbery. But he was a victim, too,
and part of me couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He had perhaps
been punished for that crime more harshly than any sentence a court
of law could have passed. But what were we to do now? He had told
us his sister was being held captive in a farmhouse not too far
from here. My common sense told me to call 999 and ask for backup,
but the lack of a signal bar on my phone told me that wasn’t going
to happen.

“
Will you help me?” Clive asked, glancing up at Kale, then back
at me. Even though it was cold, a feverish sweat had broken out on
his forehead.

I knew
we should at least try and get some kind of backup and an ambulance
for Clive, but my instincts told me that time was running out for
his sister. Morris Cook was out on the moors somewhere, he had
taken our car keys, so he was holding us captive out here, too.
Kale and I were both police officers, and however inexperienced we
were, we had to do something to help this man and his sister. I
looked at Kale, and he stared back at me. Without saying anything,
both of us reached down and helped Clive to his feet. He grunted in
pain, clenching his teeth.

“
Show us where this farmhouse is,” Kale said. “But once we are
there, you stay back and let me and my friend, November, deal with
the situation.”

“
You don’t know what Morris can be like,” Clive said. “He can
be extremely violent – dangerous. You’re just a couple of
kids…”

“
I think we will be just fine,” I said, shooting a quick glance
over Clive’s shoulders at Kale. I had undertaken the unarmed
defence training at police school already, but neither I nor Kale
had our cuffs, baton, spray or Taser with us. If this Morris Cook
decided to kick off, Kale and I really would be fighting
unarmed.

“
When we get to the farmhouse, you stay back,” Kale told Clive.
“You’re injured and we don’t want to make your situation any
worse.”

The
three of us trudged through the fog and the bitter cold. It was
eerily quiet as the fog swallowed us up. Wispy jets of breath
escaped from our mouths and melted away. Mud sloshed about our feet
and splashed the backs of our jeans. When we did eventually arrive
at Kale’s parents’ they were going to think we had hiked all the
way to their house. Then, as if suddenly rising out of the ground,
I could see the farmhouse. It was small in size and had two floors.
There were two upper windows and two lower ones. In the dark they
looked like two sets of dead eyes watching us as we stepped from
the fog toward it. There was a wooden front door, which had been
painted white, and a paved front path led up to it. A chimney poked
out of the roof, and if any smoke tumbled from it, I couldn’t tell
for all the fog. The world seemed silent, and out on the desolate
moor, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, eaten up
by the fog, leaving only the three of us. The farmhouse was in
darkness and the only sound was that of our laboured breathing and
racing heartbeats. I shone the torch at the front door.

“
Is this the place?” I whispered.

“
I guess,” Clive whispered back.

There
was a pile of freshly cut fire logs set aside by the front door. We
walked Clive toward them.

Helping
him to sit, Kale said in a hushed voice, “Now, you wait here. Let
us check the place out and see if we can’t find your sister,
Sarah.”

“
What about Morris…” Clive started, eyes wide in fear or pain.
I couldn’t be sure.

“
Leave him to us,” Kale said, trying to sound confident and
cocksure of himself. Was that just all an act?

“
But what if he is out on the moors and comes back?” Clive said
just above a whisper.

“
Then holler,” I said.

Stepping
forward and pressing his fingertips against the front door, Kale
looked at me. “Ready?”

“
Sure,” I said, taking a deep breath.

Kale
pushed against the door and it slowly swung open.

I lit up
the dark hallway with my torch. We crept inside. There was a set of
wellies by the front door covered in mud. The mud was fresh. Had
Morris Cook came back from off the moor, with Kale’s car key
swinging from his fist? The walls had been whitewashed and a few
pictures hung from them. They were paintings of valleys and rolling
hills. Not the sort of pictures you imagine an armed robber and
kidnapper would have hanging from his walls. We inched forward, one
small step at a time. The torch cast eerie shadows up the walls, as
if we were being silently stalked by winged phantoms. I shivered
and gripped the torch tighter. There was a staircase that led up
into the darkness. From above there was a sudden sound of movement.
I aimed my torch up at the ceiling as we both glanced upwards. It
sounded like someone was creeping about. Kale and I looked at each
other. I could see his Adam’s apple slide up and down as he
swallowed hard. His early confidence had been an act for Clive. I
didn’t believe Kale had tried to be cocky, he had simply been doing
what all good cops did when their backs were against the wall. They
had to hide their fear, even though all they really wanted to do
was run in the opposite direction. Cops didn’t get to run away. We
had to stay and protect those who were unable to protect
themselves, like the girl I believed was being held captive
upstairs.