Chihuahua of the Baskervilles by Esri Allbritten Read Free Book Online Page A

through their walk, they stopped and looked down at a sunken courtyard with a small decorative building in its center. Water poured from a spigot mounted on the side.
    Angus consulted his tourist map. “This is the Shoshone Spring.”
    Suki took a picture and lowered her camera. “Is this why it’s called Manitou Springs? I thought there’d be hot springs.”
    Angus shook his head. “It’s named for these natural drinking fountains—about a dozen of them, each with an individual flavor from the various minerals. Can you believe they paved over a lot of them in the sixties? I call that outrageous.”
    When the commercial buildings petered out, they crossed the street and went back on the other side. Finally they wound up in front of a restaurant called Rhumbalicious. “This looks more my style,” Angus said.
    Inside, the atmosphere was festive, with bright colors and lighted flower garlands. A hostess led them to the back of the large main room.
    “Would you look at the size of those daiquiris?” Suki pointed to a glass the size of the drinker’s head. “Anyone want to split one?”
    “I don’t know if they’d pour it into two glasses,” Michael said.
    “Alcohol kills the cooties, Michael. How about you, Angus?”
    “Not for me, thanks, and you’ll have to pay for it yourself. Liquor doesn’t go on the expense account.” He nudged Michael and tilted his head toward a table where a lone woman sat, wearing glasses and reading a thick book. “There’s the girl of your dreams.”
    “Would you shut up?” Michael hissed.
    “Ach, she can’t hear me over this din.”
    “What if your hearing is going and you’re louder than you think?” Michael asked.
    Angus looked taken aback. “Am I loud?”
    “No, but it’s something to think about.”
    Angus put an arm around his shoulder. “It’s good I have you to remind me of old age and decrepitude. You’re like the son I never wanted.”
    They sat. Suki put in her order for one of the enormous daiquiris before studying the menu. “I’m ready,” she said after a while, slapping the laminated pages down. “Hey, there’s Thomas Baskerville.” She tipped her head toward the front door.
    Angus watched Thomas and another man thread their way between tables. “Out for a relaxing evening with a friend, assuming he has such a thing,” he murmured. “You’d certainly never know it by his face.”
    Thomas Baskerville looked as dour as ever, his mouth turned down in lines of discontent. He wore a button-down shirt above his slacks, and carried a coat. His companion appeared to be in his thirties, and was dressed more casually in jeans and a sweater beneath a leather jacket.
    The waitress returned to the table. “Do you know what you’d like?”
    “Almost,” Angus said absently. “Do you see those two men?” He pointed, keeping the gesture behind the menu. “Isn’t the younger one Christopher Peters, the actor?”
    She peered for a moment. “No. That’s Martin Carson.”
    “The doctor?” Angus asked.
    She shook her head. “Lawyer.”
    “Of course.” Angus looked at his menu. “I’d like the two-fish combo, and iced tea to drink.”
    The waitress scribbled it down and turned to Michael. “How ’bout you?”
    “Curry from Hell.”
    While the waitress took Suki’s order for jerk chicken, Angus watched Thomas Baskerville. After a moment, Thomas looked around the restaurant and caught sight of him.
    Angus nodded slightly while Thomas glared back at him.
    Martin Carson looked up as Thomas slid out of the booth. Thomas said a few words. Carson seemed to argue for a moment, then sighed and stood. The hostess watched them leave and changed a mark on her seating chart.
    “I’ll be right back with your drink,” the waitress said to Suki.
    Michael turned from watching Thomas and Carson walk out the front door. “A lawyer, huh? If Pendergast is right about Thomas wanting to have Charlotte committed, do you think Thomas faked the ghost? Or”—he