Cozy Mystery at Chalet Creek Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Mikey sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. The screen was lit up with missed calls—mostly from Augie’s mom, some from numbers he didn’t recognize, and a few from contacts he had no intention of calling back. The weight in his chest tightened. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not to anyone.

His parents were gone. The resort was suffocating. And now, people were whispering that he had something to do with Mrs. Van Derlyn’s accident. His name was in the news, not officially, but in the murmurs on social media. The town was talking. He could feel it.

“Dude, you gotta at least answer my mom,” Augie said, leaning against the doorway to their shared room. He kept his tone light, but there was concern buried underneath. “She’s worried about you.”

“I know,” Mikey said, running his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time that day. “I just—” He exhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. “I can’t yet.”

Augie nodded. He didn’t push. He never did.

The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken fears they both were carrying. Augie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his arms crossed. Mikey knew Augie was trying to give him space, but space didn’t matter when everything felt like it was closing in.

The air in the room felt stale. The blinds were drawn, and the only light came from the dim glow of Mikey’s phone. He stared at it again, willing it to stop buzzing. Another missed call flashed across the screen.

“Mikey,” Augie began after a moment, his voice quieter this time, almost hesitant, “you know you didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

Mikey didn’t answer. He thought about Mrs. Van Derlyn’s face, the way she’d smiled at him just hours before the accident. He thought about the way her body had looked when they found her. Broken. Lifeless.

The sick feeling in his stomach churned again, and he clenched his fists. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

A knock at the door. Not from Augie. Someone else.

Mikey froze, his pulse quickening. The sound echoed louder than it should have, cutting through the oppressive quiet of the room.

Augie straightened up, his brows furrowing. “Were you expecting someone?”

Mikey shook his head, standing slowly. His legs felt unsteady, like they might give out beneath him. He crossed the room, each step feeling heavier than the last, and hesitated before reaching for the doorknob.

When he opened it, his stomach twisted. Standing in the hallway was a man in a dark ski patrol jacket, his expression unreadable. Behind him stood another man, dressed sharply, with an air of authority that made Mikey’s skin crawl. The second man held a leather folder, the resort’s legal logo embossed on the front.

“Mikey Gallagher?” the first man asked, his tone brisk but not unkind.

“Yeah,” Mikey said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We need to ask you a few questions about Mrs. Van Derlyn’s accident.”

Before Mikey could say anything, Augie stepped forward, his stance firm and protective. “Yeah, he isn’t answering any questions at this time.”

The officers glanced at each other, their expressions unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as if they might push back, but they didn’t. They must have realized they had nothing to go on.

Without another word, they turned and walked off, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

Mikey exhaled, the tension in his chest easing ever so slightly. He glanced at Augie, whose face was set with a mix of defiance and determination.

“Thanks,” Mikey muttered.

Augie shrugged, his voice casual but steady. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“They think you had something to do with it,” Augie said bluntly.

Mikey let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. I figured.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

Mikey shrugged. “What am I supposed to do?”

Augie leaned forward. “Find out who actually did it.”

That got Mikey’s attention.

Clue Chain & Escalation (500 Words)

“You gonna do something about it?”
Mikey shrugged, his voice heavy with defeat. “What am I supposed to do?”

Augie leaned forward, his elbows on the table, eyes locked on Mikey. “Find out who actually did it.”

That got Mikey’s attention.

At first, it seemed impossible. The accident had left more questions than answers, and Mikey wasn’t sure where to start. But Chalet Creek had always been a place where people talked—staff, guests, locals—they all had stories if you knew how to listen.

The first clue came almost by accident. A janitor, sweeping up outside the lodge’s main entrance, mentioned something offhandedly as Mikey passed by. “Mrs. Van Derlyn was asking about the founding artifacts again,” the older man muttered, shaking his head. “She was always curious about that old stuff. Kept poking her nose where it didn’t belong.”

Mikey stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean?” he asked.

The janitor shrugged, clearly uninterested in elaborating. “You know, the history of the place. The old families, the founders, all that. She was asking questions for weeks before the accident.”

Mikey stored the information away but didn’t know what to make of it—until Ski Patrol dropped the second bombshell.

During routine maintenance, they’d discovered something chilling. The lift cables on the gondola Mrs. Van Derlyn had ridden were tampered with. This wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately loosened them. Mikey’s stomach twisted when he heard the news. This wasn’t just a freak event—it was sabotage.

Augie, ever the skeptic, dismissed it at first. But when Augie’s mom chimed in, things took an even stranger turn. Over coffee one morning, she casually mentioned old rumors about a secret society tied to Chalet Creek’s founding families. “It’s just stories,” she said, waving a hand. “But back in the day, people used to whisper about them. Supposedly, they kept certain… artifacts hidden. And they didn’t take kindly to outsiders asking too many questions.”

The pieces started to fit together. Mrs. Van Derlyn was asking about artifacts. The gondola had been sabotaged. And now, the whispers about a hidden society made Mikey wonder if her death was connected to something much bigger than anyone realized.

Mikey threw himself into work, hoping the rumors about him would fade if people saw him trying to make amends. He volunteered for extra shifts, cleaned up around the lodge, and even helped with community service projects. It worked—at least, a little. The whispers softened, though they didn’t stop entirely.

Then came the news report. A small segment aired on local TV, highlighting the gondola investigation and hinting that the accident may not have been Mikey’s fault. It wasn’t a full exoneration, but it shifted public perception just enough for Mikey to breathe a little easier.

And then Ethan Prescott showed up.

Ethan Prescott was a name that carried weight at Chalet Creek. His grandfather had been one of the resort’s founders, and the Prescott family’s influence stretched across every corner of the mountain. When Ethan walked into a room, people noticed. And when he spoke, people listened.

Mikey wasn’t sure what to make of him at first. Ethan was calm, collected, and far too polished to be spending time with someone like Mikey. But if anyone knew the truth about Mrs. Van Derlyn’s investigation, it was Ethan.

“He’s our best shot,” Augie said, pacing their small room. “If she was asking about artifacts, he’d know something.”

Bella, one of the lodge’s bartenders, chimed in. “He’s not going to just tell you. Guys like him don’t give up secrets for free.”

That was how the three of them—Mikey, Augie, and Bella—ended up digging into Mrs. Van Derlyn’s last days. They started small, talking to guests and staff who had seen her around the resort. Slowly, a picture began to emerge. She’d been looking for something—asking questions about the history of Chalet Creek, probing into the lives of the founding families.

“She wasn’t just curious,” Bella said one night, flipping through the notes they’d scribbled on napkins and scrap paper. “She was searching for something specific. And someone didn’t want her to find it.”

The more they uncovered, the clearer the danger became.

Mikey finally worked up the courage to approach Ethan directly. He caught him in the lodge’s lounge, leaning casually against the bar with a drink in hand. Ethan listened as Mikey explained what they’d found so far, his expression unreadable.

When Mikey finished, Ethan sighed and set his drink down. “Be careful,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Before Mikey could ask what he meant, Ethan walked away.

Their search led them somewhere they had no business being—an underground lounge, tucked away beneath the lodge, reserved for Chalet Creek’s most elite families. Mikey had only heard rumors about the place, but Bella knew someone who’d slipped her the key code to get in.

“This is a bad idea,” Augie whispered as they crept down the dimly lit staircase.

“Probably,” Bella said, smirking. “But when has that ever stopped us?”

The lounge was smaller than Mikey expected, with low lighting and walls adorned with old photographs of Chalet Creek’s early days. The air was thick with cigar smoke and the hum of quiet conversations. Mikey’s heart pounded as they ducked into a shadowed corner, straining to hear snippets of dialogue from the nearby tables.

It didn’t take long for them to hear something that sent a chill down Mikey’s spine.

“The artifact must remain hidden,” a man said, his voice low but firm.

Another voice, deeper and more clipped, responded. “Prescott will handle it.”

Mikey froze. Ethan Prescott? What did he have to do with this?

Before they could hear more, security spotted them. Mikey barely had time to grab Augie and Bella before they were forced to make a hasty retreat.

Back at the lodge, Augie’s mom handed them something unexpected—a key to Mrs. Van Derlyn’s suite.

“She left it behind,” she explained. “I thought you might want it.

Mikey and Augie waited until nightfall before slipping into Mrs. Van Derlyn’s suite. Every second felt like borrowed time. Bella kept watch outside while they worked quickly, rifling through drawers and closets, searching for anything that might explain what she’d been looking for.

It was Augie who found it—a hidden pocket in her ski jacket. Inside was a journal, filled with frantic notes and half-sketched maps.

“The Founder’s Curse,” Mikey read aloud, his voice barely audible. “A missing artifact…”

Before they could process what it meant, the door creaked open.

Ethan Prescott stood in the doorway, calm as ever.

“Looking for something?” he asked, his tone icy.

Before either of them could respond, Ethan strode across the room to the fireplace. He pressed a hidden panel, and a compartment slid open. Inside was a small, ornate key. Ethan took it, glanced at them briefly, and walked out without a word.

Mikey’s phone rang the next morning. The caller ID read “Blocked Number.”

He hesitated before answering.

A voice, low and distorted, came through the line. “Stay out of it.”

The line went dead.

Mikey stared at the phone, his pulse racing. He looked up at Augie, who was already watching him.

“What was that?” Augie asked.

Mikey swallowed hard, his hands trembling. “They know.”

Augie’s frustration was obvious. “So what do we do now?”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “We keep going. We don’t stop until we figure this out.”

They were in too deep now. There was no turning back.