Xena and Xander have been looking forward to their vacation in the peaceful country village of Blackslope. But when a huge monster begins to terrorize the town, the young detectives are faced with a mystery that seems impossible to solve. Sherlock Holmes, Xena and Xander's famous ancestor, investigated the case of a horrible beast in Blackslope, but that was nearly a hundred years ago. It couldn't be the same creature after all this time―could it? “Barrett plunges right into the action from the first sentence, giving fans of classic mysteries exactly what they want: thrills, chills, a plethora of suspects and plenty of red herrings… A fun series continues unabated.” ― Kirkus Reviews “Solid detective work, and a zippy pace make this a nice choice.” ― Booklist “Barrett throws in enough red herrings as well as solid clues to keep ardent fans of the genre turning the pages until the surprise denouement… Fans of Ron Roy's popular "A to Z Mysteries" series (Random) will delight in graduating to this series.” ― School Library Journal Tracy Barrett is the award-winning author of several books for young readers, including the Sherlock Files books, King of Ithaka , Cold in Summer and Anne of Byzantium . Her books have been named an ALA Best Book for young adults, a Bank Street best children’s book of the year, and a New York Public Library Book for the Teen Age, among many other honors. She is a professor of Italian language and civilization at Vanderbilt University and lives with her family in Nashville, Tennessee. The Beast of Blackslope By Tracy Barrett Square Fish Copyright © 2011 Tracy Barrett All right reserved. ISBN: 9780312659189 Chapter 1 Owoo-oo-ooo! The sound drifted through the air to the park where Xena and Xander Holmes were lying on their stomachs in the grass.     “What was that?” Xena sat up and pushed back her long dark hair. The eerie wailing sound had come from way off in the distance. It interrupted the Game she and Xander were playing and made her skin prickle.     Xander stared toward the woods. “Um, a siren?” He didn’t really believe it though. That had been a weird noise. It gave him goose bumps.     “I guess.” Xena wasn’t convinced either. “A wolf, maybe? Do they have wolves here in England?” She knew Xander had been reading up on natural history for school. Xander had a photographic memory. He would remember any mention of wolves—especially because he had a phobia about wild animals.     “Nope.” Xander shook his head. “No wild ones, anyway. The English killed them all by the eighteenth century. And there can’t be a wolf sanctuary or anything like that near here or Mom and Dad would have definitely mentioned it. And I would have convinced them to pick someplace else for vacation.”     “Well, maybe a dog, then.” But Xena still felt uncomfortable. She’d never heard a dog make such a spooky sound. And now she felt that there was something creepy about the quiet town square in this little village. She shivered and decided to change the subject. If Xander thought there were wolves, or even something like them, nearby, he’d refuse to do any of the outdoor activities their parents had planned. “Let’s play some more,” Xena said. “It’s still two-one, your favor.”     Their father had taught them the Game, and his father had taught him, and his father had taught him, all the way back to the inventor of the Game: their great-great-great-grandfather Sherlock Holmes. They had found out only a few weeks ago that they were descended from the famous detective, and they had already solved one of the cases in his notebook of unsolved mysteries.     The Game was a good way to sharpen their detecting skills. The rules were simple: figure out something about passersby—like their job, where they come from, or what kind of mood they’re in—just by observing them.     “I wonder where everyone went,” Xander said. “It’s not dark yet, and there were lots of people around until a few minutes ago. How can we play the Game?”     “Here comes somebody.” Xena narrowed her eyes at the figure walking down the side of the road next to the park. Xander was getting too good at the Game, maybe even better than she had been at his age. But she was two years older, and she was determined to win this round.      “Hmmm,” Xander muttered. It was a kid about twelve years old, like Xena. How can I figure him out? he wondered. There’s nothing unusual about him.     The boy smiled as he passed. He had freckles, an upturned nose, and curly light brown hair. Xander saw a grin of triumph on Xena’s face. Oh no—what had she seen?     “City kid!” she said, and Xander looked at the boy again. The boy stumbled over something and almost fell. He disappeared around a corner.     Xander groaned, because in that last second he too had spotted the monthly Tube pass sticking out of the boy’s back pocket. It looked just like the transit passes the two of them used to get to school and around London.     “Ha!” Xena said. “Tw