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

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, confirmingthis was not Peter’s house.
    Well, whose house was it? Hans’?

 
     
     
    Chapter 38
    Hey Wait!
     
     
    I had to wait for Hans to leave before making a move.
    …Hold on! Who are these two?
    Two skiers swerved to a stop right in front of Hans. It was as though they were waiting in the wings for Peter to take off. One took their knit hat off, but not their sunglasses: an older woman with a prominent gray streak running through her shoulder-length chestnut brown hair.
    The other skier, whose voice was masculine, removed nothing. Both were smaller in stature than Hans. I strained to hear their conversation. Then the wind abruptly changed and their words drifted toward the evergreens and me.
    “…Arguing isn’t getting us anywhere,” said the woman.
    Her ski partner nodded. “She’s right. Plus that kind of money is ridiculous. No one has that amount lying