The Courtside Mystery: Project Adventure, #3

By David Konrad

Ethan and Matt are looking forward to having a break from solving mysteries and spending time at basketball camp for a week. But as they arrive, they find out about an incident at a basketball game at their camp the week before. The police think it's just an accident. 

    
Settling into camp routine, the boys find out about the big rivalry between the two local basketball teams. Their suspicions are aroused when weird accidents at their camp keep happening. When Ethan becomes the victim of one of these accidents, they're left with no choice than to investigate! They need Lisa, the third member of their detective agency Project Adventure to help with background checks that might lead to solving the mystery. 

Will they be able to get to the bottom of why these accidents keep happening? Can they prevent anyone from getting seriously hurt? Find out what happens in this thrilling adventure at the basketball camp, full of rivalry and secrets... 
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Miran Kocmur
• Release date: Feb 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9783949099007

David Konrad

David Konrad is an adventurous dad who shares his love of storytelling not only with his twins, but with young readers around the world. He is the author of the Project Adventure Children’s Book Series. These action-packed, fun-filled mysteries feature characters that young readers root for again and again.  His desire to make a difference in the lives of children is reflected in his writing. With his own children in mind, David set out on his own adventure as an author. While moving to different European locations and raising his young family, he found inspiration to write. When not writing or reading, David enjoys cooking and playing basketball with his kids. 

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Copyright © David Konrad 2020

Cover illustration copyright © Dion MBD 2020

Edited by Anna Bowles and Grace Gleave

This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First published 2020

This edition published 2020

The moral rights of the author and artist have been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,without the prior written permission of the author,or as expressly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriatereprographics rights organization. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

You must not circulate this book in any other binding or coverand you must impose this same condition on any acquirer.

Names: Konrad, David, author.

Title: The Courtside Mystery / by David Konrad.

Description: First Edition. | Munich, Germany : Kocmur Publishing, 2020.

Summary: Two preteen detectives take time out for basketball camp, only to become embroiled in a life-threatening mystery involving two rival teams.

Subjects: CYAC: Fiction. | LCSH: Juvenile literature--General. | BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | JUVENILE FICTION / General.

Paperback ISBN: 978-3-949099-01-4

e-Book ISBN: 978-3-949099-00-7

LCCN: 2021920057

Cover, interior design & map illustration by Sarah Darby

www.studiolo.co.uk

For my mother, a true booklover.

Thank you for always believing in me!

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CONTENTS

Map

Prologue

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

Acknowledgements

About the Author

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PROLOGUE

The visiting team bus made a final sharp turn into the Poolers’ camp parking lot. It was old and squeaky, and the weathered, treadless tires groaned on the hot tarmac as the big, dark vehicle eased to a stop. The single front door of the bus opened wide, and the basketball players and coaches from the Mustang team started pouring out into the afternoon heat. They wore their black-and-red warm-up T-shirts and carried their gear in sports bags. The shirts were fairly new, but the bags had obviously seen better days. Some were patched together with different-colored material and thread, and some were missing the team’s emblem, a mustang’s head blowing off steam through its nostrils. A couple of younger players carried big mesh bags full of basketballs, and others lugged plastic water-bottle carriers and warm-up cones.

They were here for the game.

The Poolers’ camp looked brand new compared to their own. It wasn’t really that much newer, but it had recently been renovated. These were two of the first camps in the area to have established teams of their own. But they were very different from one another. The Poolers were the first basketball camp in the whole country to have an outdoor swimming pool installed for the players to use. In fact, that was how they’d gotten their name. The Poolers also had rich, retired professional players donating money and help, so they always secured the best coaches and boasted the most modern facilities.

The Mustangs, on the other hand, had no such resources. That established the gap between the teams, and over time the Poolers had become much more successful, and therefore more popular, and attracted more kids every summer.

Today, the Mustangs players looked like they were already defeated. Their shoulders were slumped, and they kept looking at the ground as they trudged across the parking lot and through the big glass doors of the reception building. They entered the big waiting room, where they were greeted by the Poolers’ camp administrator. The kids looked small and out of place in the bright, white-and-purple-decorated room, full of trophies and pictures of famous players hanging on the walls.

The administrator led them through the large, automatic glass door on the other side of the room, and into the camp grounds. She turned up the wide walkway, and the red-and-black group went along with her to the open-air courts at the top of a small hill. There were three full-sized courts, side by side, and camp employees in white-and-purple shirts were already milling around, assembling the portable stands, players’ benches, cameras and shot clocks around the middle court.

To the side of the courts were two smaller buildings, serving as locker rooms for the home and away teams. The Mustangs occupied the Away room, and they started getting ready for the warm-up on one of the side courts.

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An hour or so later, it started getting dark. The small stands were packed with local fans, all dressed in white and purple, eagerly waiting the start of the game. The players, coaches and referees were ready, the floodlights were turned on and the court became as bright as daylight, despite the clouds of small flying insects drawn to the lights and buzzing all around them.

The referee tossed the tip-off, and there was a deafening roar from the stands as the game began. Not that the home team needed extra support. The game was such a mismatch that the Mustangs were already trailing by a huge margin at the end of the first quarter. The Poolers players were flying up and down the court, dominating the game in offense and defense, as if they were adults playing children. But they weren’t. Almost all the players on the court were under sixteen years old, plus maybe a few seventeen- and eighteen-year-old camp counselors, who also assisted the coaches in practice sessions. Some of the Poolers were simply much better, and soon they started to humiliate their opponents with tricks, slam-dunks and exaggerated passing of the ball, like many youngsters often do, to show off.

At half-time, both teams went to their locker rooms. Then the teams came back out quickly, as if they all wanted to get the game over with as soon as possible.

They had no idea of what was going to happen.

The Poolers started their warm-up at the same time as the Mustangs, but the teams looked very different. The Mustangs, clearly already defeated, were not putting much energy into the warm-up layups, while the Poolers pranced around as if it were a circus exhibition game. That is, until one of the Poolers attempted a slam-dunk and grabbed the bright red, steel hoop.

As he touched the rim, the air cracked and sizzled, and the blast threw sparks high up into the dark, summer night. A split second later, the boy went flying six feet away and crashed to the ground. One of the floodlights died, and the others slowly faded away.

The player lay on the court floor, not moving. Others stood around him, glancing at the hoop, hands on their heads in disbelief. The crowd cried out in panic—the boy’s family already jumping onto the court and running toward him. The camp’s medical staff hurried to tend to the electrocuted player. Somebody was screaming for an ambulance, which was parked nearby in the camp’s parking lot.

Not far away, the person who had rigged the floodlights’ cable to the metal hoop watched from the shadows. Though careful not to be seen gloating, they were barely managing to hide their smile.

1

I was squirming on the kitchen counter stool, playing with the bowl of cereal I was supposed to be eating for breakfast. It was early on Saturday morning, and I was waiting for Matt and his mom to pick me up to go to summer basketball camp. Matt and I had recently gone through the camp selection process together, and even though it was a paid camp, both of us were still kind of proud that we got in. The camp had held very rigorous trials, and you had to be good to be invited.

Our parents didn’t seem to mind paying to get rid of us for a while either. My dad even joked that he was going to nap during the time he would usually spend driving me to and from practice. Or maybe he wasn’t joking. Maybe he did just want to nap. Hard