John McBride : Trouble in Chicago by David Chilcott

Author:David Chilcott [Chilcott, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The next day they drove out of Steamboat Springs and along Route 40. After half an hour, true to the travel agent’s word, signs indicated Yampa Valley Airport. They checked the car in at the Hertz office, and themselves onto the LAX flight.

As they walked through to the departure gate, Chrissie said, “I’ll be ecstatic to get to LA at last. I don’t think traveling by road or train was a good idea to get to LA. Not with people chasing us anyway.”

When they arrived in LA, Chrissie agreed to book in at the downtown Hilton with McBride, rather than land herself unannounced at her parent’s home. She would phone them the next morning. In any case she would have to stay in a hotel, her parent’s apartment being a small retirement one, with only one bedroom.

During check-in, the desk clerk handed a note from Ian Smith who had arrived the previous day at the hotel. It said: if you haven’t done a runner join me for dinner when you eventually arrive. And don’t forget you have an exhibition coming up in LA.

He smiled, and passed the note to Chrissie. “He sounds like he’s mad at you,” she said.

“He can’t afford to be mad, the commission I pay him. He would have to cut back on his standard of living, if I fired him.” To the clerk he said: “Can you tell me which room Mr Smith is in?” The clerk told him.

McBride turned to Chrissie, “It’s half past six. Fifty dollars to five, he’s in the bar.” They walked across the lobby and into the bar, and, sure enough, Ian Smith was propping up the counter with a whisky in his hand.

“Hello, John, where the hell have you been? I’ve been here myself for two days now. I thought you’d perhaps gone back to England, what? And who is the young lady with you?”

McBride was sure he had been present when he met Chrissie, when she bought one of his paintings in Chicago. But he duly did the introductions.

“Now let me get you both a drink. You’ve just flown in?” He gestured for the barman.

“Well,” said Chrissie, “we’ve just flown in from Steamboat Springs, but the rest of the journey was by train, and by car.”

“Good heavens. When you’ve known the boy longer, you’ll know he gets himself into adventures at every twist and turn.”

“I must go back to Chicago for a day or two; some unfinished business. Dusty Miller is flying out to do a spot of body guarding Chrissie here.”

“Dusty Miller, eh? The only man who has drunk me under the table, remember that night? I bet you remember it better than I did. I was as drunk as a skunk.”

“Ian, he is not going to get drunk with you. Or with anybody. He has a job to do, as a favor to me. I can’t go to Chicago and possibly leave Chrissie in danger.

Chrissie, he is a handsome guy, is Dusty. And I promise you he will not let you down.

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