The Mysteries of Megan Glen

Secret Book Club: 1

Hi! I'll try to make this fast. So this is my first mystery novel and I hope it doesn't suck. It is influenced by Sherlock Holmes, but I don't consider it fanfiction (you'll see what I mean).

THIS IS THE FIRST PART. (there will be at least four different mysteries/ cases so that's why these chapters are all titled 'Secret Book Club'). I hope you enjoy.

"Mom, they can't stay with us, the older boy is a thief," I stated before returning to the book in my hands. I only had enough time to read a single paragraph before my mother started talking again.

The three kids in our living room were my stepdad's late best friend's kids or something like that. They lived in an orphanage for about two years before he found out his old friend was dead. Being the kind people they are, he and Mom decided to take them in. They probably also wanted to try the whole parenting thing again since I turned out... differently than they expected.

She whacked me on my shoulder, too soft to cause me any pain, but hard enough to get her message across. "Megan, use your manners. He is not a thief."

I hated explaining my reasoning to people, it takes too long and gives them the (idiotic) impression that I'm not as smart as I seem. Either way, it's a waste of time and energy. Despite my reasons for not wanting to explain my way of thinking, Mom usually demands that I do, just to make sure I'm not lying or making things up.

I put down my book on the small table next to me and sighed with exasperation. Once again, I looked over the three people in front of me. This time it was to make sure I hadn't missed anything the first time, though I doubted I had.

The oldest one, a boy around my age, wore a trench coat which was odd because of the excruciating heat that enfolded you the moment you stepped outside. That was probably the reason sweat ran across his forehead and his dusty brown hair was plastered to his forehead. His clothes were simple, consisting of a tee-shirt, jeans and a pair of old sneakers. He's the kleptomaniac.

A girl a few years younger with almost-white hair tied in a pony-tail stood next to him. Her eyes were slightly unfocussed and very calm whereas her brother's continued to dart around the room with concern. She was wearing a simple blue summer dress and a pair of sandals. Scars were apparent along her skin, although they were faded.

The last one, a little boy, had his thumb stuck in his mouth and his eyes were wide with curiosity. He had curly strands of dark brown hair and gave the impression of innocence. But his other hand was clutched in a tight fist at his side, hiding something. Like the other two, his clothes were old and he looked unhappy, however, unlike them, he stared right at me.

"He is," I said, sliding further back in my chair and folding my arms across my chest. "And the girl, Lacey, she has anger management problems, that's the reason she smokes- it helps calm her down. As for the youngest boy? He's holding a bug, probably hoping to scare one of us. He's too frightened of Lacey to put the bug on her and he knows the older boy wouldn't be affected, but he doesn't know how you or I would react... Should I continue?"

The oldest boy rolled his eyes, relaxing his stance. "You think you're so brilliant, huh? You're obviously making that all up because you're obsessed with the British 'Sherlock' show like almost everyone else."

In one fluid movement, I was on my feet and striding over to him. I came to a stop when I was an inch away. Smiling sweetly, I asked, "Then how come I was spot on?"

I reached up and pulled an obviously new cellphone out of his chest pocket, before he could protest, and held it out of his reach. When he tried to grab it, I caught his wrist and pulled up his sleeve, revealing five watches, all of them shining brightly. He yanked his arm away and I handed him back the phone.