Whistler's Angel (14 page)

“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.”

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.”

Kate saw that at once. “You must have had to tie her down.”

“Not me,” said his father. “I knew nothing about it. The portrait was a birthday surprise.”

“You haven’t told me her name.”

“It was Andrea.”

“She’s lovely.”

“Yes, she was. Even now, I’m still amazed that she married me. One would think that she could have done better.”

“One would think,” said Kate Geller.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Just agreeing.”

“Well, feel free to contradict me any time.”

Claudia had also admired the portrait, but she seemed to have something else on her mind. Whistler asked, was something wrong? She took him aside.

“You and I are going to have separate rooms on separate floors?”

“We…didn’t sleep together in your mother’s house either.”

“Are you stalling?”

“Not at all. But what’s the rush? You’re still healing.”

He was certainly stalling and a little afraid. That first time…the time that they’d made love while going camping was awkward for its own set of reasons. They quickly became less self-conscious with each other, but Claudia had been
right. There was still something missing. The only thing that made it fall short of being great was his awareness that he was still lying to her and that she would eventually find him out.

Now there were no more lies. She knew who he was. Well, sort of. She had yet to see that side of him. It was now more a question of who Claudia was and how different she thought sex would be. Would she expect celestial trumpets? An orgasmic super-nova? There was only one way to find out, he supposed. He hoped that she would not be disappointed.