“Yeah, but for how long? She’s bound to snap out of it.”
“That could take a little while. In the meantime, enjoy.”
“Enjoy? Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I am. What’s your problem?”
“With Claudia that would be like…like child molestation. I can’t believe I’m hearing you suggest it.”
“Adam, she’s hardly a child.”
“Have you tried speaking to her?”
“I’ve spoken to her mother. Granted that Claudia’s had a change in perspective. But you’re looking for diminished capacity, Adam. Sounds to me more like it’s been heightened.”
Whistler paused to rub his face. This was out of control.
“Say you’re right,” he told his father. “You’re not, but say you are. Say Claudia and I ride off into the sunset. What makes you think that Aubrey and Poole will keep their end this time around?”
“For openers? They know they won’t get another chance. I’ll come after them with everything I’ve got.”
“Yeah, but...”
“I told Poole that I would have stayed on the sidelines if they hadn’t pulled that dumb-ass raid. I don’t need a war either. I have better things to do. All I wanted was to help you walk away clean. No one had to have been hurt on either side and Aubrey wouldn’t be in a wheelchair.”
“Aubrey? What wheelchair?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I’m the last to know anything. Someone got to him? When?”
“The night before last. Carved him up pretty good. So it’s not as if he’s getting a pass.”
“Yeah, but fill me in. Who’s this slasher we have? I know it wasn’t the twins.”
He said, “No, not their style. It was another old friend who caught Aubrey with his pants down. That’s no figure of speech. Caught taking a dump. Did some surgery on his lower extremities. Do you know if he has any kids, by the way?”
“No, he doesn’t. ”
“And he won’t. Consider him punitivized. This guy not only does not walk away, he doesn’t walk at all for quite a while.”
Whistler blinked in disbelief. “And you still won’t say who?”
“Later, maybe. Not now.”
“But it is same friend who cut Briggs out in Denver?”
An appreciative chuckle. “She does get around.”
“The same one who went to see Aubrey and Poole?”
“No, that job called for someone with a bit more restraint.”
“But both of them are women. Do I know them? Have I met them?”
“Yeah, you might have. Years ago. They’re friends of a friend. You want to know names but they aren’t important. What’s important is that the other side doesn’t either. They could kill the twins, and you, even me, but they’d still have to worry about ghosts.”
“Except Aubrey’s seen the one with the knife. So has Briggs. They both know what she looks like.”
“I doubt it. She’s quick. I bet they never saw it coming. And as long as we’re on the subject of friends, you’re going to need one yourself. They’ve agreed to this deal, but you’re right, they could rethink it. You’re going to want somebody watching your back, and what better protection could anyone have than a flesh and blood guardian angel?”
“That’s out of the question. Forget it.”
“Even then,” said his father, ignoring that response, “I think you’ll want to keep moving. You’ve piled up a pretty good body count, Adam. I mean before this. There are people who’ll remember. And Aubrey might be tempted to drop a dime and tell some of them where you can be found.”
Whistler asked, “Are you listening to yourself? Is this the life I’m supposed to offer Claudia?”
“Of course I’ve made it clear that if you’re harmed in any way, I’ll assume that Poole and Aubrey were behind it. Even so, an extra set of eyes couldn’t hurt.”
“Now it’s you who’s not listening to me.”
“About Claudia? Then go see her. Change her mind if you can. But we already know where her head is.”
“I won’t do this to her. And I won’t let her do it. This discussion is over, so let’s drop it.”
“Adam…here’s your choice. It’s her or the twins. You decide. Don’t make me decide for you.”
The good humor had left his father’s voice. Whistler knew better than to doubt that he meant it. This Claudia thing…it was completely absurd. But the thought of spending a year with the twins…
“Adam?”
“Just wait. I need to think about this.”
“Not by yourself. Think it over with Claudia.”
“Say I do. How much of a window do I have?”
“I’ll get you the time. You go back out and see her. She’ll be in the hospital for about
another week. After that, she’s coming here to convalesce.”
“Coming where? To Geneva?”
“Did I mention that her mother will be coming here with her? I’ve arranged for their passports. They’re not terribly well-traveled. I should think this would be a nice treat.”
“When was all this decided?”
“They’ll be here for a month. Did I mention that you’re coming, too?”
“Hey, hold on.”
“Left to me, you and Claudia would come and you’d stay, but not being the kind of father who interferes, I will leave you to make your own decisions. We’ll need to discuss where you two ought to go. Does she sail, by the way? Do you know if she likes boats?”
“Okay, wait. You’re right. It will be my decision. Don’t give me this ‘we need to discuss.’”
“Colorado girl…mountains…probably not. We’ll try her out on my boat when she’s able.”
“What do boats have to do with any of this?”
“Just a thought. I might know where there’s a nice one.”
The boat in question was the yacht he now owned. It was a 46-foot Tartan, custom designed, and was worth nearly half a million dollars. It had a range of five hundred miles under power and no limit to its range under sail. With a shoal-draft keel that drew only six feet, it could anchor close to shore nearly anywhere. It was light tan in color with red scrollwork added. The name on the transom was “Me & My Gal.” It was among the agreed-on reparations.
The man whose house Whistler watched, Aubrey’s brother-in-law, had been the previous owner. He’d had it for less than a year. The original owner was a Florida banker who’d been charged with laundering drug dealer cash and whose property had been seized and then auctioned. Aubrey saw to it that his brother-in-law was the only person making a bid. That bid, Whistler learned, was for five thousand dollars, an amount that would barely have paid for the dinghy, let alone for the yacht it was on.
He did fly back to Denver; he went directly to the hospital. He was glad to find Claudia considerably improved. By then she was able to sit up in bed. All the tubes, save one, had been disconnected. The only sign of her wound was a cervical collar with bandages showing underneath. She would need to wear the collar for some time. She could eat, feed herself, but only soft foods. Her mother had brought her a white satin peignoir to replace the stark hospital gowns. Her hair, no longer matted, had been washed and brushed. A little makeup made her color look the way it had before. She smiled, pleased to see him, but seemed not at all surprised. She was toying with a half-eaten lunch.
Whistler had decided that he would be firm. This whole angel thing had to stop there and then. He would not let her waste one more day of her life clinging to a man who almost got her killed her just because she heard voices in her head. He began by telling her the truth about his sister, of the hatred that drove him to hurt many people who’d had nothing to do with her death. He told her that he was a marked man himself. He told her that it was entirely likely that he’d have no future to share with her.
She asked, “Would you like my rice pudding? I’m full.”
“No, I wouldn’t. Have you heard a word that I’ve said?”
/> “I’ve been listening. And it’s sad. But what difference does it make?”
Her voice was still raspy and still a bit labored. Her expression, however, was untroubled.
“What difference?” he asked her. “It makes all the difference. Claudia, it isn’t just those people who hurt you. The list goes back long before them.”
“Then, see?”
“See what?”
“You will need my protection.”
A sigh. “Yeah, but wait. Maybe I don’t deserve it. Were you listening when I told you…”
“That your past was less than wholesome? I already knew that. Those men
showed me photographs, remember?”
He blinked. “You mean those photos where I cut the throats of children? You actually believed that I could do that?”
“You didn’t?”
“No, damn it.”
“Well, good. I’m glad to hear it. That one was a lie. But if you hadn’t done some other things almost as brutal, what would have been the point in me saving you?”
She said this in the manner of a patient schoolteacher who was pointing out an obvious fact. To him, her logic was clearly deranged. To her, it was unassailable.
Very well. He would indulge it. But he’d try a different tack.
“By…saving me, Claudia, let’s be clear on what you mean. Does it mean that you’ll be nagging at me to repent and become as saintly as you are? Because I’ll tell you right now, if that’s what you have in mind…”
“I’m saintly? Who said I’m saintly?”
“Okay, then angelic.”
“Only guardian angelic. Otherwise I’m still human. Unless it turns out that I do have special powers, I’m exactly the person I was.”
“I don’t think so.”
“And the light never said that it’s my job to judge you. It just said I should save you by loving you, Adam. No biggie. I loved you already.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Now you’ll say I only loved who you pretended to be. Sure, you left a lot out, but that was still you. You’re nicer than you think you are, Adam.”
“Listen, Claudia…”
“Here’s another flash for you. I know you love me. All that’s holding you back is that you think I’m nuts. Oh, and now you’re afraid I’ll be a pain in neck. Don’t worry, Adam. I came back as your angel. I’m not the Ayatollah Khomeini.”
“Even so…”
“Want to hear me talk dirty? Would that ease your mind?”
“No.”
“I know. I’ll take you camping again. That broke the ice last time. Come to think of it, why wait? Move my tray, hop aboard and let’s get at it.”
“Cut it out.”
“Then get off this. Accept it. This thing’s a done deal. If you blow town again, I’ll hunt you down.”
TEN
He stayed in Cherry Creek at her mother’s house until Claudia was released from the hospital. He had dreaded the prospect, but her mother insisted. She said that her house was the safest place for him, “what with snipers all over the place.”
“Um…what snipers?”
“Here and outside the hospital, too. And a couple are watching the
police chief and mayor. Your father didn’t tell you about that?”
“He did say that he would look after you.”
Yes, he had. However, there were probably no snipers. Maybe one or two observers. Maybe even the twins. All his father had done was to call Mrs. Geller on a phone that he knew to be tapped. He told her that he had sharpshooters in place, but don’t worry, they’re experts and they’re all well concealed. Just go about your business as usual.
Whistler had been reluctant to stay at her house for fear that she’d lay into him for even considering taking her daughter away for a year. She didn’t, he realized, because she hadn’t heard. His father was apparently saving that news until she got over to Geneva. Kate Geller had accepted his invitation, swayed by the prospect of a month’s peace of mind while her greenhouse was being repaired. She wouldn’t have to worry that a phantom sniper might pop some poor salesman who blundered to her door. More than that, he’d arranged for further medical care while Claudia rested and healed. Not least, Kate Geller would have that month to decide whether she should thank his father or strangle him.
Claudia was released and was able to travel. Her mother had packed two suitcases for her and brought a change of clothing to the hospital. She brought a pair of slacks and a big loose-fitting sweater that fit over the cervical collar. Whistler had hired a private ambulance that would take them directly to their plane. Claudia asked her mother to ride up front for the forty minute ride to Denver’s airport. She said, “I need to have a private chat with Adam.”
Two minutes into the ride, she leaned toward him. In a low voice, she asked, “You still think I’ll be a nag?”
“No, I didn’t really mean that.”
“Still think I won’t be any good in the sack?”
“I never said any such thing.”
“Well, just so you know, the doctor said we can have sex as long as it’s
nothing too athletic.”
“Claudia…”
“Oh, Adam, lighten up. Don’t you know when I’m teasing?”
“I’m still…having a little trouble with all this.”
“But as long as we’re on the subject of sex, aren’t you dying to find out what it’s like? I mean, how many angels have you boffed?”
“Um…we’re still teasing? You’re not serious, right?”
“On the other hand, angels don’t do humans as a rule. For me, it might be a real letdown. You think?”
She was watching his expression. She reached to take his hand. She said, “Yes, Adam, I’m still teasing you.”
He muttered, weakly, “I knew that.”
She said, “Okay, Adam, all kidding aside. All I’m trying to do now is make you comfortable with me. We’ve both got to try to relax.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, and you’ve never been comfortable with me, especially not after we’ve made love.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is, Adam, and now we know why. You were holding so much back. That’s changed, but now there’s this. You do love me, don’t you?”
“From the first day I met you.”
“Then give us a chance. We’ll be okay.”
He had booked an overnight flight to Geneva, with a change of planes in New York. All three slept through most of the crossing. His father met their plane at Geneva’s Cointrin Airport. His limo was waiting for them on the tarmac.
The chauffeur had a wheelchair for Claudia. An escort car, engines running, stood near. Two bodyguards in it. Whistler didn’t recognize them. The twins were probably still back in Denver having seen to their safe departure.
Whistler’s father, who’d arranged that they needn’t go through Customs, was dressed in a business suit and tie. He had gotten a haircut and his beard had been trimmed. It seemed to Whistler that the look he was going for was that of a respectable businessman. He had greeted Claudia with a kiss on both cheeks after first kissing Kate Geller’s hand.
Kate Geller nudged Whistler, “This the housebroken version?”
“Be nice,” Whistler answered. “He’s trying.”
His father’s home, in which Whistler had grown up, was a three story town house on the Place Des Alpes. It was one of Geneva’s many park-like squares and one of its better addresses. The house was, like its neighbors, of white brick and mansard roofed with a flower box in every window.
The house to its right was his father’s as well. Whistler hadn’t been inside it in years. From the outside it looked very much like the others. It was staffed and run like a small hotel with rooms for any visiting associates. It had two meeting rooms, one of which was a “bubble room” impervious to listening devices. The top floor was his father’s communications center staffed by several full-time employees. It
probably contained more eavesdropping equipment than most foreign embassy buildings. Whistler doubted that Kate would be given a tour. She would have to be content with the residence.
Whistler’s father had arranged to have Claudia’s records forwarded to his personal physician. He had also arranged for a visiting nurse who was trained as a physical therapist. The doctor didn’t want her using the stairs, so his father had converted a first-floor study into a bedroom for Claudia. His father had moved out of his second floor suite. That was where Kate Geller would stay. Whistler was given a room on that floor that had been his own, growing up. There was still another guestroom on the second floor, but his father had chosen not to use it. That room had been Alicia’s. That might have been the reason. Or perhaps he simply thought that for propriety’s sake he should not be on the same floor as Kate. He opted to stay up on the third floor where his driver and housekeeper also had rooms. Whistler knew them both well. They were long-time employees. Both did double-duty as bodyguards.
“It’s so pretty,” said Kate as she was being shown the house. “Very warm. And inviting. I’m surprised.”
“You expected a barracks?” asked his father.
“No, in your case, a bunker. But a woman must have done this. Your wife?”
“Every stick.”
The furnishings were an interesting mixture of styles. Mostly Empire, Queen Anne and a little Swiss Rustic with rich Persian carpets on the floors. Good art on the walls, mostly Dutch - Vermeer and Mondrian - and a French artist’s portrait of…well, Whistler’s mother. She was in her early thirties when she sat for it.
A better word would have been squirmed for it, recalled Whistler. The artist had tried for a classical pose. Sitting straight, very regal, chin held high. She wouldn’t do it. The smile, intended to be elegant, serene, looked like that of a woman who was trying not to laugh. Her eyes said, “I just can’t believe that I’m doing this. Please don’t take this seriously. This isn’t me. Get me out of this gown and into some jeans. Oh, hell, go ahead. It’s for Harry.”
Whistler's Angel (The Bannerman Series) Page 8