Whistler's Angel by John R. Maxim Read Free Book Online Page B

over those sale racks, was one of the Beasley twins, Donald.
    It might have been Dennis, but he thought it was Donald. Donald had always been the paunchier of the two. He had on a blue parka and a dumb-looking ski hat, the kind with the little red pompom on top. But Dennis, of course, would be dressed the same way and Dennis had a gut of his own. It could just as easily have been Dennis.
    A double date with parents wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but he thought that it might grease the flow of conversation. He did call his father and his father came down. His father showed up at the Hotel Jerome sporting his Stetson and that big shearling coat. The tea did lead to dinner after all.
    Mrs. Geller - Katie – was a handsome woman who almost could have been an older sister. Same coloring, same smile, and almost the same figure, give or take some matured redistribution. She wore a black turtleneck and a Harris Tweed jacket with a sprig of holly pinned to the lapel. She had the same easy warmth that had attracted him to Claudia. And his father had always had an effortless charm that Whistler had never quite managed. The two parents hit it off right away.
    The fact that his father lived over in Europe - where he said that he was an investment consultant - seemed to add to the comfort level between them. A pleasant encounter, but ships in the night. He’d be flying back in another two days. She knew that they would probably not meet again, but she told him that she hoped he’d send a postcard. That allowed Whistler’s father to give her his card and ask Kate for her home address. She reached into her purse for a card of her own and placed it on the table before him.
    Whistler’s father caught his eye and showed him the address. Whistler must have frowned when he saw it.
    “Is something wrong, Adam?” Mrs. Geller had asked him.
    “Wrong? Oh, no. Nothing at all.”
    “It’s Claudia’s address, too, if that’s what you’re wondering. She’s moved back in for a while.”
    “You’ve…read my mind, Mrs. Geller.”
    What had caused his reaction was the name of the town. Cherry Creek was on the long list of affluent communities that were mentioned in Felix Aubrey’s ledger. If a town was listed, someone there was in his pocket. It might be a police chief or a county prosecutor, a tax assessor or a judge. Whistler couldn’t recall what names were listed or how many property seizures had occurred there. But the fact that Aubrey had connections in that town seemed reason enough to avoid it.
    Not that he’d been invited. Whistler pushed it from his mind. The future was one thing, the present was another, and he was enjoying the evening. During dinner he began hearing all about Claudia. Not from Claudia herself, who kept trying to change the subject, but from her intensely proud mother.
    “She’s a wonderful dancer. She studied ballet.”
    He said, “I’m not surprised. I’ve seen her ski. Good skiers always seem to be good dancers.”
    “She didn’t stick with it. She keeps trying new things. Did you know that she’s a tri-athlete?”
    “No, I didn’t,” Whistler answered. “I’m surprised and impressed.”
    “She’s competed in two triathlons so far. Races mountain bikes, too, and she ice skates like a dream. In college, she was a star pitcher.”
    “Women’s softball?”
    “Men’s baseball. She was pretty hot stuff. Claudia was the only girl in the state to play on a varsity team. She was featured once on ESPN. Scholar-athlete, too. Straight A’s right through school.”
    “Mom, quit it,” said Claudia. She was drumming her fingers. “Besides, most of that isn’t true.”
    “It isn’t?” Whistler asked.
    “Well, it’s way overstated. To begin with, I did not have straight A’s.”
    “Okay, Dean’s List,” said her mother. “Same thing.”
    “No, it’s not. As for pitching, my best season was five wins, eight losses, so don’t sign me up with the Yankees just yet. As for mountain bike