Alpine for You by Maddy Hunter

conclusive, Miss Andrew. There's no sense causing panic among the people in your tour group."
    What about causing panic in me? I was going to be constantly looking over my shoulder now, expecting some friendly acquaintance to stick a knitting needle through my ear. "You think the killer might strike again?"
    "Until we discover the motive for the murder, we've no way of knowing that. But as the group's escort, you should be alerted to the possibility that someone on your tour could be capable of murder."
    I felt honored to be taken into his confidence, but the honor did nothing to calm my frazzled nerves. How could I keep this to myself? "Can I tell my grandmother about this? I promise she won't tell anyone. Telling a secret to Nana is the same as stashing gold in Fort Knox and throwing away the key. I think she should know. After all, if the killer suspects I heard something, he might think Nana heard something, too."
    Inspector Miceli nodded. "If that will allow you to sleep better, by all means, share the information with your grandmother. I urge both of you to be aware of your surroundings at all times and to report anything that looks suspicious." He handed me a card with his name and office phone number on it. "I can be reached here anytime, day or night. If the need arises, call me."
    He dropped me off at the side entrance to the hotel. Leaving his trench coat behind, I ran through the drizzle into the welcoming warmth of the lobby. "Room thirty-three-ten," I said to the clerk at the front desk.
    He checked the grid of slots behind him. "Did you leave your key in the box this morning?"
    "Yes, I did."
    "It's not here." He checked the box on the front desk to find it empty. "It's not here either."
    "Well, I put it in the box before I left. Where else could it be?" Then it occurred to me. What if the killer had been watching my movements? What if he'd snatched my key from the box after I'd deposited it there this morning? What if he was waiting in my room, intent on killing me, too? Oh. My. God.
    I could see the nattily attired clerk studying my tangled nest of wet hair and sodden top. He arched an eyebrow at me. "It must be raining outside. We sell items for such occasions in Lucerne. I believe you call them umbrellas."
    I would have gritted my teeth if they hadn't been chattering so hard. "How about you send someone up with a master key to open the door for me?" And to check out the room for maniacal killers before I set foot in it.
    "Your name, Madame?"
    "Emily Andrew."
    "If you'll kindly have a seat in the lobby, I'll see what I can do about locating your key."
    In my present state, I didn't dare sit on the room's velvet sofas, so I threw on my cardigan and raincoat for warmth and stood in front of the lobby window, watching the mist and fog cloak the daylight. I regretted having trashed my umbrella. With a killer on the loose, I might need a weapon. And even though a broken umbrella wasn't in the same league as a hand grenade, I bet I could poke someone's eye out with it, which would be eerily prophetic since my mother had been warning me about the likelihood of that happening from the time I'd turned six.
    I supposed I could use my new watch as a weapon, but giving the killer the incorrect time didn't seem threatening enough. I needed something with more punch.
    "Emily?"
    I turned to find Shirley Angowski heading across the Oriental carpet toward me, and she wasn't looking so hot. Her hair was flat, her eyes were puffy, and she was wearing a navy blouse with black pants, which was as big a fashion faux pas as wearing blue-green with olive green. I figured she must be really rattled about Andy to have her color sense thrown so far off kilter.
    "What happened to you?" she asked, staring at my hair.
    "Midmorning dip in the river. I don't recommend it as a scheduled activity."
    "I'm so glad you're here," she said, taking my hand for comfort. "Everyone is out on that tour this morning, so I'm all alone. I don't know what