This is our story who was the killer

please read over the text and answer whether, Kate Marino the main character plays a role of the amateur detective, was this a successful choice of character role, was it intriguing by the elements of the murder mystery in the novel, was the role of Kate intriguing, analyze the role of Kate Marino.

Copyright © 2016 by Ashley Elston Cover design by Tanya Ross-Hughes and Maria Elias Cover art © 2016 Tanya Ross-Hughes Cover photograph of deer head © 2016 David Hughes Additional cover photographs © Shutterstock All rights reserved. Published by Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023. ISBN 978-1-4847-3186-4 Visit www.hyperionteens.com Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 Acknowledgments About the Author For my mom, Sally A ten-point buck and a dead body make the same sound when they hit the forest floor. It’s hard to believe a person could be mistaken for an animal, but it happens more than you know. We know these woods. We’ve spent as much time here as anywhere else. Every hill and valley, every place the deer forage for food and rest in the heat of the day, is mapped out in our heads. We know exactly where the shot comes from when we hear it. Stealth no longer necessary, we tear in from every direction, each wanting to see the kill first. But that excitement evaporates at the sight of Grant’s body twisted in odd angles over a downed tree. The impact of the bullet knocked him completely out of his boots, which are still upright several feet away. We gravitate to one another, standing in a tight pack several yards away from him, momentarily scared to get any closer. One by one, our guns slip through our fingers, thudding softly on the blanket of leaves covering the ground. And one by one we move closer to Grant. Stunned, we stand in a circle around him, our bodies covered in camouflage, each of us blending into the next. No one goes near him. No one bends down to check his pulse. There is a small hole in the center of his chest and blood pours out of him and soaks into the ground and there is no question—Grant Perkins is dead. Two of us drop to our knees, crying; another seems unable to move at all. But one of us studies the guns piled on the ground. “That’s not a buckshot wound. He got shot with a rifle.” All eyes go to the Remington—the only rifle in the group. Concern for Grant is over quickly; the sorrow turns to panic and every finger quickly points to someone else and shouts of “I didn’t do it!” ring through the air. We all handled that rifle and we know it could point back to any one of us. The amount of booze and pot and pills still flowing through our systems will guarantee that this is seen as a crime, not just an accident. We push each other. We cuss each other. We threaten each other. We are imploding.