Death Knell In The Alps (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) by Peggy A. Edelheit Read Free Book Online Page B
Book: Death Knell In The Alps (A Samantha Jamison Mystery) by Peggy A. Edelheit Read Free Book Online
Authors: Peggy A. Edelheit
have my sources and contacts,” Mona hinted.
“And what makes you think the Feds want to hear from you?” Martha asked.
“Not those sources and contacts, my other ones.”
She was referring to her legal and illegal contacts.
“…Oh,” was all I eventually said.
Martha shook her head. “This might prove tricky.”
“Unfortunately, where you two are concerned,” I added, “tricky and trouble are usually a part of every equation.”
“Always the pessimist,” Martha tossed back.
“We should find Herr Kraus and follow him,” I said.
“In the meantime,” said Mona, “I’ll make some calls.”
“Should we be asking, to who?” Martha asked.
“Some things are better left unsaid,” I offered.
“As the cliché goes, ignorance is bliss ,” laughed Mona.
“If Clay found out what we’re doing…” warned Martha.
“I don’t know about you two,” I said, “but my lips are sealed. Clay hasn’t confided in us, so it’ll play both ways.”
After an hour of staring at the ceiling and well after Mona and Martha fell asleep, I got up in the dim light and turned on my laptop across the room in our sitting area. I figured if I couldn’t fall asleep why not research this Herr Kraus myself, but from a different angle than the others? Maybe he was listed on the Internet.
What did he do that required bodyguards?
I typed for several minutes. All I wanted to do was skim the surface on this guy to give me some kind of reference point from which to start. I’d leave the heavy lifting: my crew’s networking skills, to further peel back the layers on that information-onion called Herr Kraus.
I couldn’t find one picture, which spiked my interest further. Finally, and to my surprise, I discovered he was an author of a few obscure travel books about Switzerland. The publishing information gave no full name just Herr Kraus, Grindelwald , Switzerland .
Hmm…
I sat back. Again , the same question came to mind. Why all this fuss over a doddery old author, who wrote detailed-filled travel books? What did he need bodyguards for?
None of this added up and none of it made sense.
Chapter 26
The Not So Great Outdoors
Early the next morning, Peter called apologetically to delay my ski lesson. Everyone was already gone. So I took advantage of my downtime to scope out the grounds of the hotel. The task wasn’t as simple as I had thought it would be because it had snowed during the night and the deep powder on top of the snow from the day before was proving hard to walk in. I pulled out my phone pretending to take some pictures of the scenic snow-covered gardens.
Dazzling white peaks topping the trees were already dotted with skiers. I wondered briefly what Peter was up to, but then approached the side of the hotel and found myself in a secluded area. I’d heard private apartments were attached in the back for VIP guests who didn’t want to mingle with the other guests: a good place to start.
I’d just negotiated the rear corner of the hotel when I caught sight of a familiar figure: that elderly gentleman, Hans. His behavior struck me as odd. He appeared to be surreptitiously taking pictures with his cell phone of something out of my eye range. He must have sensed someone there and abruptly turned in my direction.
“What are you doing back here?” he asked sharply.
Rattled by his hostile attitude and worried about Clay’s reaction to my spoiling his simple request in keeping a low profile at the hotel, I backed away, turned, and headed back to the back door of the hotel.
What was Hans doing in this garden in the first place?
Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I realized in shock that he was running after me, closing the gap.
What the… Why was he chasing me?
At this pace, he’d catch me.
And what would he intend to do once he caught me?
I wasn’t about to wait and find out. How could I slow him down? I spotted a few decorative rocks on a garden bench, figuring they would do
“And what makes you think the Feds want to hear from you?” Martha asked.
“Not those sources and contacts, my other ones.”
She was referring to her legal and illegal contacts.
“…Oh,” was all I eventually said.
Martha shook her head. “This might prove tricky.”
“Unfortunately, where you two are concerned,” I added, “tricky and trouble are usually a part of every equation.”
“Always the pessimist,” Martha tossed back.
“We should find Herr Kraus and follow him,” I said.
“In the meantime,” said Mona, “I’ll make some calls.”
“Should we be asking, to who?” Martha asked.
“Some things are better left unsaid,” I offered.
“As the cliché goes, ignorance is bliss ,” laughed Mona.
“If Clay found out what we’re doing…” warned Martha.
“I don’t know about you two,” I said, “but my lips are sealed. Clay hasn’t confided in us, so it’ll play both ways.”
After an hour of staring at the ceiling and well after Mona and Martha fell asleep, I got up in the dim light and turned on my laptop across the room in our sitting area. I figured if I couldn’t fall asleep why not research this Herr Kraus myself, but from a different angle than the others? Maybe he was listed on the Internet.
What did he do that required bodyguards?
I typed for several minutes. All I wanted to do was skim the surface on this guy to give me some kind of reference point from which to start. I’d leave the heavy lifting: my crew’s networking skills, to further peel back the layers on that information-onion called Herr Kraus.
I couldn’t find one picture, which spiked my interest further. Finally, and to my surprise, I discovered he was an author of a few obscure travel books about Switzerland. The publishing information gave no full name just Herr Kraus, Grindelwald , Switzerland .
Hmm…
I sat back. Again , the same question came to mind. Why all this fuss over a doddery old author, who wrote detailed-filled travel books? What did he need bodyguards for?
None of this added up and none of it made sense.
Chapter 26
The Not So Great Outdoors
Early the next morning, Peter called apologetically to delay my ski lesson. Everyone was already gone. So I took advantage of my downtime to scope out the grounds of the hotel. The task wasn’t as simple as I had thought it would be because it had snowed during the night and the deep powder on top of the snow from the day before was proving hard to walk in. I pulled out my phone pretending to take some pictures of the scenic snow-covered gardens.
Dazzling white peaks topping the trees were already dotted with skiers. I wondered briefly what Peter was up to, but then approached the side of the hotel and found myself in a secluded area. I’d heard private apartments were attached in the back for VIP guests who didn’t want to mingle with the other guests: a good place to start.
I’d just negotiated the rear corner of the hotel when I caught sight of a familiar figure: that elderly gentleman, Hans. His behavior struck me as odd. He appeared to be surreptitiously taking pictures with his cell phone of something out of my eye range. He must have sensed someone there and abruptly turned in my direction.
“What are you doing back here?” he asked sharply.
Rattled by his hostile attitude and worried about Clay’s reaction to my spoiling his simple request in keeping a low profile at the hotel, I backed away, turned, and headed back to the back door of the hotel.
What was Hans doing in this garden in the first place?
Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I realized in shock that he was running after me, closing the gap.
What the… Why was he chasing me?
At this pace, he’d catch me.
And what would he intend to do once he caught me?
I wasn’t about to wait and find out. How could I slow him down? I spotted a few decorative rocks on a garden bench, figuring they would do