Death Knell In The Alps (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) (10 page)

Chapter 35

I Swear, I…

It was obvious by the startled look on Mona’s face she was just as surprised as I was by what I’d said about Hans, including his possible black eye, which then explained how we ended up sipping from our own small bottles. I was feeling a bit lightheaded, having eaten very little at lunch. Having eaten nothing, Mona was too.

I was dying to hear what happened to her.

“So why do you look like hell? Were you spotted and chased? Did someone tackle you?” I asked her.

“I wish I could claim something dramatic, but can’t.”

“Well then, why do you look like a bad mugging?”

“I was trying to take iPhone pictures and backed up to get the whole chalet in my shot when I heard two voices coming from around the back. I needed to hide. Using my poles, I continued skiing backward on a decline to take cover, aiming for some trees, while still keeping my eye on the chalet. I gave myself one final shove and brought the camera up for my last shot: a major miscalculation.”

“…And?”

“Moving way too fast, I glanced behind me…”

Mona stopped to take a sip from her bottle, shuddering.

“And what was there?” I asked.

“Not a whole lot. I had gone off the edge of a drop-off.” She closed her eyes and shaking her head, remembering.

“How far down did you fall?”

“Just far enough to get religious. Scared the
bejeezus
out of me, probably hundreds of feet of shrubs, trees, rocks…”

We both took another sip: me because I could imagine the visuals and Mona because she actually felt them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked doubtfully.

“I think so,” she said, taking another sip and winking at me. “For once I was glad I’m a well-padded large woman.”

I grinned with relief. “You know, after hearing your story, you don’t look so bad.”

“After hearing myself describe it, I agree.”

We clinked bottles. “A toast!” I announced.

Mona started giggling. “To what?”

I gave it some thought. “To unexpected screw-ups.”

It seemed that was what surrounded us: one mishap after another that somehow connected at a later time. We tipped back our bottles then broke out laughing. At that moment, the door opened. The gang was back.

“My goodness,” gasped Betty, stopping in place.

Hazel read her watch. “A little early, don’t you think?”

“Okay, what did we miss?” said a hopeful Martha. “By your expressions and Mona’s appearance, it’s a doozy.”

“You won’t believe it,” I said.

“I’m warning you,” said Mona. “It’s a whopper.”

“Have the decency not to steal my lines,” said Martha.

“Go ahead,” said Betty. “I think we need a distraction from all this skiing.”

“
Major
distraction about sums it up,” said Mona.

“Pull up a chair,” I said. “It’s a long story.”

“How about the shortened version instead,” said Hazel.

Martha eyed Mona. “Where’d you get those bottles?”

“Backpack, upper left pocket, compliments of Clay.”

Martha nodded. “If anything, you’re organized.”

By the time Mona and I brought everyone up to date, someone suggested a snack to help offset the booze effect. We automatically turned toward Mona.

“Upper right hand pocket: cookies, chips, you name it.”

“Did you leave any for the airline?” asked Martha.

“I’m big-boned. I must maintain my blood sugar levels.”

“Hey, let’s focus on what to do here,” I said.

“Let’s case the lobby, Betty,” suggested Hazel. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and spot who this Herr Kraus is.”

“I’ve got to find that cleaning couple,” said Martha.

“I need to make some calls about Peter,” added Mona.

They all looked toward me. “And I’ve got to find Hans.”

Betty paused at the door. “Be careful. Hazel and I will thoroughly case the lobby then walk the grounds out back.”

Hazel turned to Betty. “
Case
is a great word use, Betty.”

Betty nodded. “Well, in this
case
, you would normally use the word
case
as a noun, but I thought using it in its verb form was a nice touch: very apropos in this situation.”

Martha ushered them out the door, shaking her head.

“Ladies, this is not the time for old B movie jargon.”

Betty frowned. “But you see? That’s the whole point.”

Martha stopped walking. “What is?”

“Those phrases sum up precisely what we’re doing.”

“It’s a colorful way to speak too,” added Hazel.

I faintly heard Martha say, “Well, I’ve got colorful…”

Mona looked at me. “You do realize those three could screw up everything.”

I was staring at the closed door, now a little worried.

“They looked a little tipsy, didn’t they?”

Mona chuckled. “Who would notice the difference?”

I shrugged. “They do come up with results, though.”

Mona reluctantly nodded. “That is what’s so scary.”

“Good thing they’re walking,” I said.

“Forget that. It’s the talking, I’m worried about.”

Chapter 36

“And Then There Was…”

“And then there was…”

By the time I finished on the phone, running the outline of my new mystery by Sandra, my agent,
who miraculously was somehow still my friend,
I was met with total silence.

I’ve been known to stretch the truth a time or two with missed deadlines, stretches of time with no communication and pitching hard-to-believe stories. This usually ended up with her taking the heat from my publisher, who was more interested in his profit margin and what would sell, certainly not speculation.

Always defending me over the years, Sandra ultimately became a good friend. So I was grateful when she gave me feedback and advice. Besides, I wasn’t close to an ending on this one. I was simply looking for a positive response.

“…Are you still there?” I asked, thinking maybe we had been disconnected accidentally. But then a second or two later, I figured maybe she’d actually hung up.

… Silence.

“…Sandra?”

“…This actually happened, is happening
?
” she asked.

Doubt had entered the picture.

“As far as I can tell…”

“Sam, talking to you is such a challenge.”

“…Look, I only have a few loose ends to tie up.”

I heard a loud sigh at the other end of the line.

“You have to trust me on this. It shows real promise.”

“So do a lot of other authors,” she shot back.

Ouch!

“I deserved that, ever since…”

I left the rest unspoken. She knew I was referring to the unexpected death of my husband, Stephen, and what a rough time I had afterward getting through my next book. She was there for me as a staunch supporter, encouraging me with some much-needed tough love and a reality check regarding my contract.

“Enough said. Go with it,” she finally said. “It’s good.”

“…You mean you like it so far?”

“I know I’m going to regret this, but yes, I do.”

“I knew you’d like the take on this one.”

“It’s unusual. Just do me one favor, okay?” she asked.

“Sure, what?”

“Try not to get yourself carved up like your
Spanx
.”

“I’ll be careful. Hey, did I mention I’m skiing here?”

“Now I’m
really
concerned.”

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“Physically you’re lousy at sports.”

“But mentally I’m at the top of my game.”

She laughed. “That’s what has me so worried.”

“If I didn’t know you so well, Sandra, I’d take offense.”

“At what?” she asked.

“Your lack of enthusiasm for me pulling this off.”

“Don’t waste your breath convincing me, just give the publisher a great ending minus missing body parts: yours!”

“Trust me. I’ve got a great ending.”

I just had to find it, that’s all.

Chapter 37

I Shouldn’t Have, But Did Anyway

I shouldn’t have, but grabbed my skis and took off for that chalet. It was foolish to ski there without a partner, but not knowing was far worse. After skiing by there with Peter, my hit, my cross-country trek and that horse, with luck, I’d find it again to confirm it was the same chalet.

I had plenty of time before my afternoon lesson with Peter because, once again, he pushed it back until later. I hadn’t read too much into it before, but after Mona mentioned seeing him at the chalet, his whereabouts at that moment were looking suspicious.

Was it a different chalet? If not, what was Peter doing there in the first place? Would I get lucky and find him still there? After arriving, I skied to a sheltered spot behind some cover: an evergreen that camouflaged me perfectly. I wasn’t about to move closer until I felt it was safe to do so. Still sore and afraid of undergoing the same fate as Mona, I checked behind me…just in case.

My head jerked back to the chalet.
Were those voices?

Two men came from behind the chalet and stopped. One had his back to me. The other was Peter, who said “
Ich
…”

“I don’t have time for your German. Speak English.”

“Trust me,” said Peter. “She has no idea.”

Before I jumped the gun, I let their conversation play out. I held my breath as Peter glanced my way then back.

Had he sensed someone watching?

I lifted a branch for a better view. The other skier turned my way.
That older man,
Hans!
Why was he meeting with Peter? Were they both involved in this? Was Peter playing both sides? Was Hans paying Peter to get to Herr Kraus? Was Hans one of
the
spies? He was old enough to be an original one and Peter was young enough: an heir of one.

My mind zigzagged with scenarios. I had to warn Clay. …But warn him about what: that I saw two people talking and became suspicious? I couldn’t even snap a picture to show Clay. I’d left my phone at the hotel.

Why bother? No signal, remember?

Hans turned back to Peter. “I am not concerned. She’s an amateur and appears easily manipulated. Let’s continue as we planned. Keep
both
of them on the back burner till this is over. I doubt they know enough to do much damage
.
If we’re lucky, her own reckless behavior will do her in.”

Was he referring to Clay and me? Was a skiing accident planned for me if I became an impediment?

My motor-mouthed brain was rambling once again. I attracted trouble just second-guessing myself. But then maybe those thoughts weren’t so far-fetched. Perhaps those two were plotting to do away with Herr Kraus before Clay caught on. Like I had said earlier, with me in harm’s way, Clay was distracted and they’d go in for the kill.
Literally.

Peter skied off, confirming
this was not Peter’s house.

Well, whose house was it? Hans’?