Free Death Knell In The Alps (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) by Peggy A. Edelheit

“You okay?”
    “What color was that horse?” I asked.
    “A blondish colored one.”
    I gave a gasp. Was it the same horse? Same chalet?
    “What does the color of the horse have to do with this?”
    I didn’t like the connection I was seeing. “…Hans.”
    “What does this Hans have to do with what I just said?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    “How about giving me the shortened version.”
    I did just that, plus my rock-throwing episode…
    “Does Clay know about any of this?” she asked.
    “Everything but those two times I encountered Hans.”

 
     
     
    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