Up in the Hills

Author's Note: This is my first ever crime fiction so the standard's not much high. The first couple of chapters are rather tame, I know, but the real fun will soon begin. Do read and review it, it would be really encouraging. Enjoy the story!


Chapter 1: Camp Up!

"Bess!" George shouted reproachfully, "Can you take a moment to look at the nail you are supposed to be hammering?"

"Sorry," Bess giggled lamely, "Got distracted."

I finished hammering my nail in time to look up to see the two cousins drawing their attention to their nails. We were trying our best to set up a tent in our allotted space which was proving to be more difficult than we had foreseen.

Let me fill you in. I, Nancy Drew, along with my two best friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne were currently camping up in the hills in Coneycombe. The three of us were among the first to sign up for River Heights Summer Camp and now, a month later, here we were in a clearing in a forest.

It was difficult to believe that Bess and George were cousins. Fashion is the last word for Bess and she manages to look her model-fabulous self always, be that in the middle of a car chase or while at the edge of a cliff. George, however, is nothing short of a tech-genius, to whom, attire always takes a backseat the moment she spots some electronic goods. The two are great friends, nonetheless, and are my best all-time companions.

Being up in the hills, the network tower is fluctuating, which has put George in a grumpy mood. Being a whiz with computers and smart phones, it is going to be a sore trial for her for the upcoming week. So, when Bess tried to simultaneously set up the tent and read a fashion magazine propped up on rocks, it got on George's nerves.

Amelia Jones, daughter of William Jones, the camp-in-charge, who was sharing the tent with us, finished her work and stood up arching her back. She is a little taller than me, blonde, and strongly built.

"Hey Nancy, shall we go and bring some water?" Amelia asked.

"Yeah the two of you go ahead and fill our bottles," George said, standing up, "Meanwhile I will get Bess to help me set up the tent."

"What! I thought we were done with the tent," said Bess glumly. She had clearly been hoping to get back to her fashion magazine.

"Can't we get a break till Nancy and Amelia brings the water?" asked Bess hopefully.

"Absolutely not," said George, "As it is we are up to our neck in work. We have got to get this tent ready for inhabitation within the next half an hour. Then we need to go over our schedule for the next few days. Then we need to help the rest of the campers with the meal."

"Ok ok, I get it," Bess said giving up.

I couldn't help laughing at their antics. "Come on," I told Amelia. We got all our bottles and headed to the water purifier set up at some distance from the tents. We passed others' tents on our way. Quite a few of them were arguing.

"Rory, hold it tightly."

"Dora! Just be patient."

"I tell you it is more like this."

"What, I have more experience, way more than you do."

"Whoa!" a shout from our right draws our attention and we turn to see a tent collapsing. Intrigued, we head towards it.

I spotted Michael Snear being helped to his feet by his best friend John Nook. I have always been overcome by pity when I see Michael. He moved to River Heights just a month ago but from what I have heard since then he has had a very saddening past. He was in a car accident some time ago which resulted in him forgetting everything about his life before the accident. He couldn't remember his address, his parents, anything. A kind man took pity on him and got him a part-time job and admitted him to a college. It was there that he befriended John and the two have been inseparable since then.

When I heard about this, I took a moment to imagine how it would be if one day I woke up in the hospital with no memory of my dad or Hannah, Bess or George, Ned or River Heights. The thought sent a shiver down my spine and I have always felt sorry for Michael since then.

Mr. Jones heads towards the group and we pause for a second. "Now now boys, you have to be a little more careful if you want to sleep in that tent tonight."

"Tell Michael to be more careful. He messed up," one of the other boys, James, accused.

Now, Michael is taller and broader and more hefty than most of the boys I have known, but I have always known him to cower when accused or spoken a little harshly to. On hearing James' accusation, he began to stammer, "It-it wasn't me...I-I didn't d-do anything."

John backed him up, "Mr. Jones, it wasn't his fault. We all loosened our grips."

"Be careful boys," Mr. Jones said patting Michael on the back. James scowled.

Amelia and I continued moving through the woods. The campsite is on an estate, The Lincer Estate located on Caslart Hill. The current owners are two sisters, Ariana and Jenny Willin. The estate was on their mother's side. Ever since their mother passed away, they have been living with their grandmother, an invalid, Mrs. Clara Lincer. We haven't yet met them but their caretaker Doris Gordon informed us about this soon after we arrived here.

"There, we have reached it," Amelia says as we join the small queue for the water purifiers. Some of the other campers wave at us. We make idle small talk when Dorothy shouts from the front of the queue, "Hey Nancy, what mystery are you going to get us this time?" I smile back good-naturedly. It is the habit of all my friends from River Heights to pretend that mysteries and I walk hand in hand.

After about fifteen minutes, Amelia and I start walking back to our tents having filled each of our four bottles, when we catch a glimpse of the bungalow.

The bungalow, Lincer Villa, is huge and occupies almost half of the estate. There are the woods of course, not very dense, with a clearing for campers. There is also a pond on the other side. As we registered the hugeness of the bungalow for the second time that day, an involuntary shiver runs down my spine. It was such a huge house, with such a meagre number of residents. Don't they feel lonely? And the estate is located on a remote hillside. The local market is at least five kilometres away.

By the time we return to the tent, the sun has lowered on the horizon. Bess and George have made the tent ready. We barely have time to dump our rucksacks in the tent when we hear the bell ring signalling our camp meeting.

A cosy fire has been lit about halfway along the rows of tents with pieces of logs surrounding it in a circle. The thick logs are long enough to accommodate four and the four of us head to one of them.

Mr. Jones stepped out of his tent and walks over to the centre of the circle. By the time everyone has arrived, the sun had started setting fast. When the last had arrived, Mr. Jones starts speaking in his loud, booming yet cheerful voice. After the initial greeting and the usual reminder to not shoot the birds or disrupt their nests in any way and not to eat any berries or wild mushrooms we might find, he moves on to our camp plans.

"Now, some campers from Camber Hedge will be joining us tomorrow," Camber Hedge was River Heights' neighbouring city and it wasn't uncommon for the two cities to go camping together, Mr. Jones continued, "Tomorrow we will be going rock climbing. There is a moderate slope nearby which won't be very difficult for beginners. Next day, we will be going boating," he paused for a second and looked around the circle, ensuring that everyone was paying attention, and then continued, "The days after will be devoted to gathering fruits and berries and starting a fire, swimming, and bungee jumping respectively." Having finished, he folded the piece of paper he had been reading from and tucked it into his pocket, "And the residents of the estate might occasionally join us for some of the activities. Also, all the campers should assist in preparing the supper, so if nobody has any questions, please get started."

There was the sound of shuffling of feet and the creaking of logs as everyone stood up and made their way to the other side of the camp where huge pots had been set on the fire and a dozen helpers were starting to prepare the food.

Bess and George were talking excitedly about the next day. Though they had their differences, the cousins had one common interest: rock climbing. Seems like they were discussing about how to do the knots of their safety breeches.

Amelia, who had gone after her father, returned just as we started chopping some vegetables. "Its going to be a great week ahead," she commented as she chopped a carrot into pieces.

"Will be even better if Nancy comes up with a mystery," Bess joked while dicing a potato. Like I said, my friends are hell bent on me finding a mystery.

"Imagine a knife being stolen from the kitchen and then someone is murdered with it and all that is found is the cook's fingerprints on the knife," she giggled holding up her own knife with a swish.

I shook my head and concentrated on peeling my potato. One would think mysteries are found around the corner of the street.

That night as we sat around the fire, holding mugs of cocoa, while someone played the guitar amidst shouts of laughter, my eyes fell on Michael. John was coaxing him to join in the fun but he just sat there, clutching his mug, his eyes fixed at some point in the distance. I wondered if I could possibly solve the mystery to his real identity, his past.


Author's Note: I know its more of a prologue than anything. I don't want to rush with the story and miss important details. Review!