Death Knell In The Alps (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) Read Online Free

had ‘potential.’ Of course not knowing that ‘potential’ and why any of us were there was, according to Mona, merely a small snag as far as she was concerned. So the three of us, now settled in our own beds, were trying to figure out what was going on.
    Hazel and Betty had retired to their room that adjoined ours. I left a dim light on, but their door was long ago shut because of all our chatter. They said they needed their rest.
    “The way I see it,” continued Martha, “It’s a win-win.”
    “How so?” I asked.
    “We get to ski for several days and it’s all paid for.”
    I nodded. “And I get free ski lessons from Peter.”
    “Who’s Peter?” asked Mona.
    “Not the one who she was hoping he was,” said Martha.
    Mona turned toward Martha. “You know, as usual that almost made sense, but you lost me after the word not. ”
    So I started out at the beginning explaining everything, including the ugly Spanx episode, the moving doorknob, Olaf and Peter, the elevator incident, and ended with hearing a door open and close as I walked to the elevator.
    “You never said anything about any door,” said Martha.
    “It was probably nothing,” I said, downplaying it.
    Mona raised her head and stared at the two of us.
    “And all this happened within a few hours of arriving?”
    “Give or take an hour,” said Martha casually, like it was par for the course for us.
    …Come to think of it, it was.

 
     
     
    Chapter 11
    Taking My Lumps & Not Liking It
     
     
    I was having second thoughts standing there, watching Hazel, Betty, Martha and Mona wave as they rose further up the mountain on the lifts, excited about skiing.
    You figured right. Mona was a good skier too. Damn.
    I finally turned around and gave Peter a feeble smile.
    “Don’t worry. We’re not going higher, yet, ” he said.
    I breathed a sigh of relief, but then narrowed my eyes.
    “Exactly where are we going?” I asked looking around.
    “First I want to reteach you the basics, and then how to stop properly. Then, you see that area right over there?”
    I looked at where he was pointing: an area with multiple bumpy-looking mounds of snow on a downward slope.
    “First I’ll show you the proper way to push off, stop and several safety tips, then after lunch we’ll do a freestyle type of skiing on that area. Those uneven bumps are small moguls caused by other skiers pushing off, turning and stopping, then continuing on.”
    “But I was hoping for a flat surface to start off with.”
    Peter laughed. “That is for the small kinder ski class.”
    I gave him a confused look. “The what?”
    “Kinder, in German, means children.”
    “Oh…”
    “Don’t worry. My method will teach you how to make short turns and have strong pole placement.”
    I was already white-knuckle gripping my poles. They looked more like lethal weapons than something that would save me. Of course in my hands one never knew.
    Peter patted my shoulder. “We only have a few days.”
    Wearing my bulky ski jacket and pants, scarf, padded gloves and knit hat, I gave a reluctant, “…Okay.”
    “Many people think it is safer on a groomed course and skiing those moguls is unsafe. But once you learn and understand a few simple techniques, it is easy and safe. Today you will learn control, balance and technique.”
    Technique? Me? “But we’re high up and I’ve never…”
    “I know,” said Peter. “I can see the fear written on your face. Relax. You won’t need fast reflexes with this.”
    I frowned. “What else did Clay tell you about me?”
    “He said you have an excellent sense of humor.”
    A smile finally tugged at my mouth. “Depends.”
    “On what?” Peter asked.
    “I’m allergic to pain. I also have this height thing…”
    He arched his brow. “And you want to ski the Alps?”
    “Who said anything about wanting to? I have a point to prove to a small select group of people and you’re going to help me do it in four days, right?”
    He nodded and