Her name was María Elena De La Puente, and if ever there was a woman with the face of an angel, it was she. María was short, barely over five feet, ...ith black curly hair that tumbled down over and beyond her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and large and always seemed to reflect her current emotional state. From minute to minute they could show a caring innocent demureness, or all too quickly change to a fiery anger or an icy politeness. She was an eclectic mix of Madonna and tomboy. She was. “Will?” the voice said. “It’s Lori, did you speak with Cathy? How is she? Are you okay?”“Sorry, Lori,” I said. “I did speak with Cathy, well, it was more a case of her dumping on me; she’s somehow royally pissed off with me.”I gave her a brief rundown of everything she said.“How about you come out sailing with me today,” she said. “You’ll enjoy today’s race, it’s up the river to Juno point and back. Can you get here soon, and we’ll take the boat up to the clubhouse.”“Okay, that would be good,”. More

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