I love mysteries. I love Camp Camp. Why wouldn't I make a story that combines the two?

Max let out a sigh as the train pulled up to the Sleepy Peak station. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to spend his winter break investigating the lodge on the mountain instead of staying in the dorms and enjoying himself. But then again, he'd started looking into mysteries as a way to solve his boredom, so maybe this was the kind of break he needed. He stepped onto the platform and looked around for the groundskeeper that was supposed to pick him up.

Jesus fucking Christ, it's cold. Why the hell did I agree to this?

His eyes landed on an old man with long gray hair, a mustache, and a hook for a hand.

"You the Acharya kid?" he grunted, approaching Max.

"Yeah. And you are?"

"Quartermaster."

"Uh, that's not a name."

"It's mine. My job is to git you up to the lodge, nothin' more. C'mon."

Max followed Quartermaster out to the parking lot, where a pickup truck fitted with snow tires was waiting. The old man unlocked the car and Max clambered into the passenger seat. The cold didn't bother him as much once Quartermaster cranked up the heat.

"According to RM, you're in college," the old man stated.

"RM?"

"Rosemary. Mr. Campbell's daughter."

"Oh, yeah."

And there was the other reason he'd agreed to this. Rosemary was his oldest friend and the only person he found himself unable to say no to. Not romantically, mind you, but there was something about her that was magnetic and warm.

"She's the one who hired you, right?"

"Yep. I planned to stay at the dorms for the duration of the break, but then she called me last week, asking me to come up for break because weird shit's been happening."

"RM told me you're a detective and that you'll figure out what's goin' on."

"I wouldn't call myself a detective. I'm just really fucking observant and I pick up on shit. Product of a shitty upbringing."

"To be honest, I don't trust ya any farther than I can throw ya, but if RM says you're fine, I'm inclined to believe her."

Max looked out the window, leaning on his hand with a bored expression. He was ready to stop talking, because according to Quartermaster, it was a long drive to the lodge. He had no intention of talking to this guy for the entirety of the ride.

Instead, he focused on the scenery. It was a snowy forest, the kind that he remembered Rosemary always admiring when they'd played video games or watched movies during high school. Hell, they'd only played Until Dawn so she could look at the snowy forest as the teenagers in the game were murdered. She'd always been a weird person, but he didn't mind, just like she'd never minded how fucked up he was.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the sun setting. It was pitch black now, the only light in the area coming from the headlights of the pickup truck. He looked around at the mountain road they were driving up. Finally, in the distance, he could see pricks of light, which Quartermaster turned towards.

"That's the lodge," Quartermaster grunted, gesturing to the building in the distance. "RM insists on running the lights when I'm out after dark so I can find my way. Completely ignores the fact that I've been workin' up here longer than she's been alive, but it's a sweet gesture."

The howl of a wolf cut the old man off. He slammed on the brakes, nearly sending Max flying into the dashboard. He looked around frantically, as if trying to find something.

An explosion rocked the truck.

"Holy hell!" Quartermaster swore. "That was the bunkhouse!"

Max stared at the cloud of flame, smoke, and ash that was before them. Quartermaster hit the gas and sped towards the lodge, where Max could see Rosemary run out of the building. She was obviously in a rush, given her lack of a parka and the socks on her feet. The old man put the truck in park and she dashed over, panting.

"What was it?" she asked, fearful.

"The bunkhouse. We were only fifteen feet away." Max got out of the truck and Rosemary let out a strangled sob as she hugged him.

"Thank God you guys are alright!" she breathed, releasing her grip. "Come on, Max. QM, call the sheriff."

"Yes, ma'am."

They headed inside and Rosemary leaned on the wall, burying her face in her forearms.

"Rose, what's going on?" Max asked. "You didn't explain much on the phone last week." Rosemary took a deep breath.

"Come on, Max. I'll explain when we have a chance to sit down."

She led him to a set of couches and they sat across from each other, Rosemary still shaking. Within a couple minutes, a woman with reddish-brown hair brought her a hot cocoa and Max a black coffee, giving Rosemary a look of worry.

"I'm fine, Gwen," Rosemary sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You and David can go to bed." The woman waved goodbye and walked off.

"So… what exactly is going on? I mean, the bunkhouse or whatever just got blown up." Rosemary bit her lip.

"It started a few months ago, around the time the deed to this place was put into my name. At first, it was little things—stuff that's normal for a hotel or resort like this, like socks going missing, items being misplaced… you know, stuff I wouldn't sweat over. Then it started escalating. One of our guests got locked in the sauna, the QM's snowmobile was stolen, and then two weeks ago, our cook and a family of guests got food poisoning from the potato salad. It got contaminated, even though I know she just bought the ingredients that day. I had a receipt and everything. Until then, I was going to chalk it all up to bad luck, but between that and now this… somebody's out to shut down the lodge."

"And you called me to figure it out."

"Yes. You're the only one I could think to call. The sheriff is no help, but we have to report this stuff to him. He's chalking it up to my father's history and not bothering to look into it."

"Damn. What the fuck kind of sheriff is he?"

"I don't know, but you're the best damn detective I know and I know you can figure out who's doing this."

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you." She gave him a gentle smile. "Actually, I have an idea. It's a way for you to access the other guests' rooms and not come across as suspicious. You're going to be working as one of my employees—essentially a maid."

"The fuck are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you're working here and you're in one of their rooms, they won't object if you're cleaning. I can't pay you more than I already am, though…" Her face fell.

"Fine. Besides, it is an excuse to investigate this shit."

"Thank you so much for helping me out. I have a free room you can use."

The next morning, Max woke up at seven-thirty AM. On his bedside table was a stapled packet of papers and a key with a note.

Hey, Max!

I had to run to town to fill out a police report on the bunkhouse incident, but I left a list of essential knowledge to have about the lodge. Also, you're going to need a master key to get into everyone's rooms. We have a total of six guests at the moment. Their rooms are listed in the packet. If you need anything when I'm not around, ask Gwen, David, or QM.

I'm counting on you!

Love, Rosemary.

Max chuckled at the note. He pocketed the master key and picked up the packet. It was basic hotel/resort shit—when to pick up laundry or how to tell if a guest requested their room cleaned—but there was also stuff like shoveling off a skating pond and reporting avalanches. The numbers for the sheriff, Avalanche Patrol, and the personal phones of David, Gwen, and Quartermaster were listed as well. He already had Rosemary's.

Well, time to start, I guess.

Max got dressed and headed downstairs, where he could see the guests enjoying their breakfasts. He was going to head to the desk when he was stopped by a tall guy with red hair.

"Hiya!" the man greeted him, far too bright and cheery for the cold. "I'm David. You must be Max! Rosemary told us that you agreed to work here."

"Yeah," Max grumbled. "I need to get started on work, so—"

"Eat breakfast first! Gwen's the best cook the lodge has had in years, so you're missing out if you don't eat her cooking."

Max groaned and went into the dining room, where he discovered that there was more than enough food for him to have a hearty breakfast. His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since the train ride. Begrudgingly, he picked up a plate and filled it before sitting down.

"Hey, you're a late-riser, too?"

He looked up to see a woman with long, pale green hair tied in a ponytail. She also had a plate piled with food—more than him, he noticed.

"What do you mean, 'late-riser'?" he asked. She sat down across from him.

"Breakfast starts being served at seven, so everyone's usually up by then. Well, everyone except me. I sleep until seven-thirty."

"Same here, I guess. I usually sleep until ten back at college. Who are you?"

"I'm Nicolette Morrison, but everyone calls me Nikki."

"Well, I'm Maximillian Acharya, but everyone calls me Max if they know what's good for them. I'm the new housekeeper… person."

"Huh." She took a bite of her eggs.

"So, why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I like nature, and with school out for break, I wanted to head out here. I was supposed to come by myself, but my mom and stepdad insisted I bring my stepbrother. He's a nerd. You'll probably meet him later. His name's Neil."

"Good to know." Nikki scarfed down the rest of her food.

"Were you here for that explosion last night?" she asked. "I went out this morning—that's why I wasn't in line before you—and checked it out. There's just a bunch of burnt-up debris where the bunkhouse was. It's so cool!"

"I think you need to re-evaluate your definition of 'cool'. It was seriously dangerous."

"I know. But you know what else is cool?"

"What?"

"That professional skier/snowboarder, Ered Miller! She's staying here to practice for a big competition."

"Any other guests you wanna tell me about?"

"Um…" She tapped her chin. "There's Harrison and Nerris—they're the couple in room 4. And there's also Preston Goodplay, in room 3. Neil's in room 2, I'm in room 1."

"And I'm guessing room 5 is Ered's?"

"I don't know. I guess."

"I'm in room 6. Thanks for the info, Nikki."

"You're welcome. See you later!"

Nikki left and Max breathed a sigh of relief as he finished his breakfast. He went on to do the rounds upstairs—taking care of laundry and cleaning the guests' rooms. Once he was done with that, he headed outside to investigate where the bunkhouse had once stood. He found a melted clock face among the ruins—probably used as a timer to set off the explosion.

Now it was time to question some suspects.

If you haven't picked up on it (I don't blame you; it's kind of obscure), this story is based on that of the game Nancy Drew and the White Wolf of Icicle Creek. I'm in the process of playing through the game at the moment and I have no clue who the culprit is.

That being said, this story is going to have some major differences from the game, the most obvious of which being that there are a lot more characters. Also, the owner of the lodge is actually there in this story, rather than tied up with lawyers.

If you can, I'd suggest playing the game. It's a lot of fun.

So long and thanks for all the fish!