Rolando had been a bartender for thirteen years, but this gig at Bearly There Ski Resort in Big Bear, California, was a new one for him. He liked it in in the mountains. It was quiet. Sane guests, which was more than he could say for his last job in the Caribbean. He wiped the countertop, glancing out the window as the snow fell and the wind howled. Turning back to his customers, he checked out the nine woeful-looking women, sitting on stools at his bar, lined up like sad birds on a wire.

“Come on,” Rolando said to them. “They’re used to snowstorms here—this will pass and you can hit the slopes. Certainly, this can’t be the worst mountain vacation you’ve had.”

“Rolando, have you ever heard of Lookout Mountain?” Davis Way, a petite woman with copper-colored hair, raised her glass, signaling she wanted another.

“No,” Rolando said as he uncorked a bottle of Chardonnay. “Where is it?”

“Tennessee,” she said. “On the surface, it’s beautiful. To the casual observer, it’s a modern-day Mayberry, but with lots of money. A place anyone would die to be.”

He poured. “Sounds perfect.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear the die part. If you insist on visiting Lookout Mountain, don’t say you weren’t warned.” Davis lifted her glass. “See the mountain in all its glory, but only if you don’t mind being murdered.”

“Murdered?” Rolando gulped. “I don’t like murder.”

“I don’t either,” said Erin Murphy, a small woman with a heart-shaped face and a dark bob that grazed her collarbone. “But I make it a habit to look on the bright side. After all, I run a local foods market in Jewel Bay, Montana, near Glacier National Park. People go there to get away from it all. But sometimes they bring it with them, like the professional photographer whose star was fading and the up-and-coming competitor who—let’s just say it wasn’t a pretty picture.”

Rolando decided to change the subject. “Would you like to see our menu? In addition to drinks, we have appetizers. The nachos are delicious.”

Bree Winterbourne swallowed hard. The idea of nachos smothered in cheese made her stomach rumble, but she shouldn’t. She was saving her calories for dinner.

“I’ll stick with my vodka seltzer for now, thanks. But nachos sound yummy.” She pulled her strawberry-blond hair behind her shoulders. “The last time I came to the mountains—to the resort where they filmed Dirty Dancing—nachos were not on the menu. It was a fitness retreat. But I didn’t expect a classmate who sang off-key, another with anxiety off the Richter scale, and an instructor who despised her students. The class was named Five Days to Fitness but it was more like Ten Days of Torture. The murder didn’t help.”

Before Rolando could react, another woman pushed her long, dark hair behind her shoulders and spoke up. “If you think you have problems, I was just at a Wizard of Oz convention in the North Carolina mountains. I was dressed up as the wicked witch, including horrible green makeup, all weekend long,” Martha McBain complained. “My bestie, Lorrie? She got to be Glinda and floated around in sparkles and pink slippers. Not fair! Of course, we did get to stay in a castle, so that part was nice. Except when my cheating boyfriend showed up with his latest celebrity client and crashed our party.”

“So, no murder?” Rolando said, smiling in relief.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Martha said darkly.

He didn’t want to ask anything else. With increasing desperation, he turned to a beautiful, athletic woman with long blond hair. She’d been taking selfies the entire time she’d been at the bar. “Why don’t we talk about something other than murder? Are you ready for some skiing?”

Caroline Cabot set down her phone—finally—and nodded. “I enjoy skiing, although not as much as my husband. And this trip has to be better than our honeymoon in August. We went all the way to the Australian Alps—where I had no internet access, can you believe that?”

Rolando felt his shoulders relaxing. At last, a minor problem. “No internet must be horrible.”

“It is. I’m an influencer, you know. I didn’t want my followers to think I’d died.” She shrugged. “Instead, someone else did.”

“How about you?” he asked the next woman. She was lovely, with olive skin and dark curly hair. Certainly, she wouldn’t have a connection to murder.

Lucy waved her hand, flashing a diamond engagement ring. “All I wanted was a brief getaway with my maid of honor to escape the stress of wedding planning. I thought the Pocono Mountains would be relaxing and awe-inspiring with the autumn change of colors. I looked forward to hiking a mountain trail in the crisp fresh air. Little did I know one of the hikers in our group would end up at the bottom of a sinkhole.”

“Was he. . .was he okay?” Rolando asked. He wasn’t surprised when Lucy shook her head vigorously. Rolando closed his eyes.

When he opened them up again, they almost popped out of his head. Now this one, he recognized. She’d been there! At the bar at the beach.

“Good to see you again, Rolando,” Barbara Marr said smiling. “And before you ask, I have not witnessed a murder in the mountains.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rolando started.

“But I did actively prevent a murder.” She shrugged. “Kind of, sort of.” She took a sip of wine. “Oh, and gave a woman the courage to solve a murder that had occurred years ago. All in the span of just six hours! That was a poor excuse for a mountain resort, I have to say.”

When he glanced at the redheaded woman next to her, it was like experiencing déjà vu. He recognized this one too. “Do I even have to ask?” he said.

“Sorry, Rolando,” Allie Larkin said. “I’ve experienced malicious mountainous murder. At least it didn’t cost any money, since my Aunt Gully had won the trip to the Austrian Alps, including airfare, a stay at a ski resort, and a Sound of Music tour. We even met some Olympic skiers.”

“And they died, right?” Rolando said, by now expecting the worst.

“Well, no. They didn’t die. But I can’t say everyone was that lucky.”

He turned to the last one. Shook his head. Again, this one had been at his tiki hut in the Caribbean! Were these women following him?

“Is it my turn?” asked Jackie Norwood, a blonde with her hair in a messy updo. She took a sip of what Rolando knew was just lime and seltzer. “Oh, my murder wasn’t just in the mountains, it was in a snowstorm like this. I was trapped in a ski lodge during the worst blizzard Utah has seen in a century and someone ended up dead. Since we were trapped in a lodge, we knew one of us had to be the killer. With the police unable to make it, I had to figure out the murder.”

So even the snow couldn’t protect him.

Rolando wiped away the sweat from his forehead, took off his apron, and walked off. He’d rather take his chances with the snowstorm and unemployment than spend one more minute with these ladies. Where could he go where these crazy murder magnets wouldn’t find him?

***

Don’t run away! We hope that you, unlike Rolando, will enjoy Murder In The Mountains, an anthology of cozy, mountainous short stories—for every season!

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Murder in the Mountains, A Destination Murder Short Story Collection
Genre: Cozy Anthology
Release: February 2022
Purchase Link

Ain’t no mountain high enough to contain this collection of nine fun, cozy stories filled with peaks and valleys.

Whether you love spring, summer, fall, or winter in the mountains, you’ll be elevated by cozy mystery authors Gretchen Archer, Leslie Budewitz, Karen Cantwell, Barb Goffman, Eleanor Cawood Jones, Tina Kashian, Shari Randall, Shawn Reilly Simmons, and Cathy Wiley.

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Four Seasons of Murder

— Spring

DOUBLE BLUFF, Gretchen Archer, a new short story in the Davis Way series. Two trophy wives and one dead body equals a trip to Lookout Mountain, Tennessee for Davis Way and her co-worker.

FIVE DAYS TO FITNESS, Barb Goffman. A visit to a fitness camp in the Virginia Blue Ridge Mountains was supposed to be a new beginning for Bree Winterbourne. Instead, it’s a final ending for one of the attendees.

— Summer

THE SOUND OF MUZAK, Karen Cantwell, another short story in the Barbara Marr series. When Barb and friends take a trip to the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts, they are asked to help uncover the owner’s dark past—one that may involve murder.

THE PICTURE OF GUILT, Leslie Budewitz, a new short story in the Food Lovers’ Village series. Erin Murphy loves her town of Jewel Bay, Montana, which attracts artists, foodies, and other tourists. But one artist’s visit turns deadly.

— Fall

THE LYIN’ WITCH IN THE WARDROBE, Eleanor Cawood Jones. Lorrie George and friends visit the Land of Oz theme park on Beech Mountain, North Carolina, filled with celebrities and jealousy and murder, oh my!

A KILLER POCONO HIKE, Tina Kashian, a short story in the Kebab Kitchen series. Lucy Berberian is desperate for a break from the stress of wedding planning, and the Poconos should have fit the bill. But finding a body in a sinkhole leaves Lucy with a sinking feeling.

— Winter

A PERFECT CLIMB, Shawn Reilly Simmons. A skiing trip in the Australian Alps was supposed to be the perfect start for Caroline Cabot’s perfect marriage. Unfortunately, everything quickly goes downhill, as sore muscles, fighting couples, and a murder ruin the perfection.

THE EDELWEISS EXPRESS, Shari Randall, a new short story in the Lobster Shack series. Allie Larkin was looking forward to her trip to Austria: the snow, skiing, and a Sound of Music Tour. But she wasn’t expecting that the hills would be alive with the sound of…murder?

ONE FLEW OVER THE COCOA’S NEST, Cathy Wiley, a new short story in the Food Festival Fatalities series. Former celebrity chef Jackie Norwood was invited to judge a Hot Cocoa festival at a Utah ski resort. Instead, thanks to a blizzard and a murder, she ends up judging the guilt of her fellow guests.

All comments are welcomed.