Hunting Houston

by Sandy Steen

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Let’s see.” With both his hands now at her waist, he glanced heavenward as if the words he wanted were written across the stars. “To begin with, you’re not that kind of girl. Definitely not interested in a vacation fling. Or a quick roll in the hay—uh, sand. In a week or so…you want to be home enjoying your snapshots… not regretting a few hormone-driven hot nights. That about cover it?”

  “Just about. At least you understand where I’m coming from.” Flippant. He was way too flippant’ to suit her taste. But then, what had she expected? He was, after all, who he was. A man who courted adventure, women and danger with the same savor-the-moment attitude. Why was it she had to keep reminding herself of that fact?

  “I may understand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give up.”

  “And that doesn’t mean that I intend to end up as another notch on the handle of some man’s ego.”

  “Nothing to do with ego. For the first time in a long time, I know what I want. And when you know what you want, why waste time playing games?”

  “I thought the objective was fun.” Abby knew she had slipped out of her role-playing. Bits and pieces of the real Abby were showing through and she forced herself to remember why she was doing this. It helped her regain control.

  The breeze sent a strand of hair dancing across her cheek. He brushed it aside. “Don’t know about you, but I’m having a ball.”

  “Well…” She stepped away from him, irritated with herself that the action had taken so much effort. “The ball is rolling a bit too fast for me.”

  “All right. But…” He grabbed her hand. “Be warned, Abigail. You’re far too bright and beautiful to be left alone in paradise.”

  And he was far too smooth. She needed distance.

  “Do you get a lot of women with this—” she waved her hand, pinkie and thumb only extended in the Hawaiian “Hang loose, don’t worry” hand sign “—beachcomber approach of yours?”

  “I haven’t had any complaints.”

  “Undoubtedly. But I’m not what you’re used to,” she said truthfully.

  “Presumptuous, aren’t you?”

  “I just meant—”

  “You have no idea what I’m used to.” He released her hand, and they resumed their walk.

  There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a second ago.

  Avoiding the surf, they walked along the shore toward an outcropping of lava rock that rose out of the sand like a humpback whale breaching. The last golden rays of the day hit the spray as waves broke over the rock’s craggy surface, creating rainbows.

  Abby called herself several kinds of idiot. That kind of slip of the tongue was strictly junior-grade stuff. What was she thinking? Maybe she really was losing her touch.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, at last. “You’re right. I have no idea what kind of woman you’re used to dating. It’s just that you’re good-looking, successful and charming. And I assumed you would be interested in the same kind of woman.”

  “What are you? Chopped liver?”

  “No.” She smiled. “I just meant—”

  “Tell you what, Miss Abigail—”

  She stopped walking. “Why did you call me that?”

  “Because it suits you when you’re being very prim and proper. The way you are now.”

  “Oh.”

  “Let’s say you and I agree not to deal in generalities. I’ll refrain from making any misleading assumptions about you. And you do the same about me.”

  “Misleading? You think I’ve misled you?” Was it possible he could know who she was? Why she was here?

  “I think you’re a beautiful woman. Warm, gentle. And I think finding out who you are is going to be one sweet adventure.”

  “You may be disappointed.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “This is it. Plain and simple. No deep dark secrets. No hidden agenda,” she lied. “I’m just what I appear to be.”

  “No one,” he said, “is just what they appear to be. And everyone has dark secrets. Some darker than others.”

  Chapter 5

  Abby couldn’t get Houston’s comment that some secrets were darker than others, out of her mind. It had been her last conscious thought before dropping off to sleep. And practically her first thought this morning.

  As she made her way into Lahaina behind the wheel of her rented sedan, she wondered just how dark his secrets were. Dark enough to include extortion and fraud? From her professional point of view, if push came to shove, the number of people who had that kind of larceny in their hearts would produce shocking figures on any newscast.

  But what motive would Houston have? What did he stand to gain by blowing his own boat out of the water?

  The catamaran had been replaced by a less expensive, but perfectly seaworthy boat. Certainly not condemning in itself. After suffering such a loss, quite often people were leery of sinking a big chunk of money into replacement items. That included everything from video cameras to million-dollar residences. That didn’t necessarily indicate fraud.

  In fact, none of the information at her disposal pointed to criminal activity, but that didn’t do anything to mollify her instincts to the contrary. Predictably, insurance companies looked at policyholders first. They were the logical suspects. And even though she didn’t discount it, in this case she had a feeling there was more to it.

  Still, the unanswered question of what became of the remaining funds nagged at her investigator’s mind. If the money had been poured back into Lone Star Dive Shop & Tours, it would be evident. Maybe not on a large scale, but there would be evidence. All she had to do was find it.

  Abby wheeled the sedan into a parking space across the street from the dive shop. She turned off the motor, but didn’t get out. On the drive in from her condo all her thoughts had been focused on business.

  Now, she could no longer avoid the other thoughts. The strictly personal ones that she had deliberately shoved to the back of her mind. Would have shoved out of it, if she could have. Thoughts of Houston’s handsome face. Of his up-front attitude regarding what he wanted. Namely, her.

  And then there was his kiss.

  Oh, yes. His kiss.

  Although, to be brutally honest, she couldn’t claim it was only his kiss. After all, she had kissed him back. But with a purpose, of course.

  A purpose, she reminded herself, that was the reason she was here in the first place. So he was a great kisser. So what? So for just a moment, just a split second, she had felt the familiar and oh-so-longed-for warmth. So what? She was human. Human or not, she just couldn’t allow it to happen again.

  Resolve. Determination. That’s what was called for, here.

  Abby got out of the car, and stood tall. She was resolved and determined not to allow Houston Sinclair or his smooth charm to sidetrack her from her responsibilities.

  As she started across the street, she noticed a classic 1957 powder blue Thunderbird convertible parked in front of the dive shop. The car was in perfect condition, and an absolute knockout. As a teenager, a T-Bird was her fantasy car, and an up-close look at one this pristine was a treat., She admired the car for several minutes, then went into the shop.

  But when she walked in the door and saw Houston talking to Gil, standing there all bronzed and gorgeous, the resolve and determination she had thought so strong only moments earlier, wavered ever so slightly. And she wondered why the “real” woman’s heart she wasn’t supposed to have was beating so fast.

  He was wearing swim trunks, sandals, a tan and a smile. Nothing else. Her stomach did a somersault. Two, in fact.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” He shook his head. “I was wrong.”

  Abby blinked. About the kiss? Was he about to apologize for doing what he did best—charming her? “About what?”

  “Moonlight and sunsets do great things for a woman’s complexion. I had almost convinced myself you couldn’t possibly look as good
as I remembered. Brother, was I wrong.”

  Reaching out, he stroked his knuckles along her cheek as if to verify his own conclusion. “You look better.”

  No one this charming—this disarmingly charming— could be sincere, she reminded herself. The reminder didn’t slow her heart rate one bit. “Thanks.”

  When he dropped his hand she hated herself for feeling disappointed. Hated having to clench her own hands into fists to keep from reaching for his; to keep from pulling it back to her cheek. Her nails bit half-moonshaped marks into her palms.

  “What’s on your agenda?”

  “Agenda? Oh, not much.”

  “Decide to book another dive?”

  “No. No dives today.”

  “Whale watch?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.” It was a lie she hoped wasn’t reflected in her eyes or voice. No whale watches today or any day. Not unless she could watch them from the shore.

  “We’ve probably got a spot or two left. Check with Stuart to see how booked up we are.”

  “Oh, no, that’s all right.”

  “I’d do it for you, but I’m on my way out.”

  “Taking out a group to dive?”

  “No.” The denial was flat and a little cold. Once again, she had the feeling that there was something he didn’t want her to know.

  He must have realized how cold he sounded, because he smiled and said, “Don’t spread this around, but Gil is a much better dive master than I am.”

  “Who?” she asked, pretending not to know who he was talking about.

  “Gil Leland, my partner.”

  “Heard that, slick.” A grinning Gil walked up behind Houston. “And you’re right.”

  “Gil,” Houston said. “Have you met Ms. Douglass?”

  “Not formally. But anyone that can swim with the sharks is aces in my book. Abby, isn’t it?” He shook her hand. “How’ya doing?”

  “Great.” Unless she counted the sudden dryness in her throat, and the trembling in her hands. The mere mention of the shark was enough to make her heart beat faster.

  “You sure are,” Gil agreed. “Great for business. I’ll bet you a hundred dollars we’ve had no less than ten calls today wanting to book dives.”

  Abby opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Houston spoke up. “Don’t bet with him.”

  “Oh, here we go.” Gil rolled his eyes.

  “Somebody needs to warn her that anytime you use the phrase, ‘I’ll bet you,’ she should run for the hills. This man will bet on anything.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Gil told her. “He’s just jealous because he has such lousy luck. However—” his gaze swept Abby up and down “—I have to say his luck is improving.”

  “Back off,” Houston ordered.

  “Ouch.” Gil released Abby’s hand, and shook his own as if in response to an imaginary burn. “You must be one hot number.”

  Houston lifted an eyebrow. “Too hot for you.”

  “Oh. Like that, is it?”

  “Like that.”

  “Excuse me,” Abby interjected.

  Both men’s gazes turned to her.

  “You two were so busy being macho, I thought you might have forgotten I was here.” She was smiling, but neither of them was stupid enough to accept the smile at face value.

  “Sorry.” Gil grinned.

  Leland had the kind of cocky, little-boy grin so many women found irresistible. Abby didn’t find it one bit irresistible. In fact, it grated on her nerves. Of course, she refused to allow her irritation to show. Instead, she would play whatever games were necessary. It was, after all, part of her plan.

  “So am I,” Houston said, sincerely. “Can I make it up to you tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I should make you suffer.” Her intent had been to keep the exchange light, flirtatious. But when she looked into Houston’s eyes, she realized she wasn’t flirting. A secret part of her did want to make him suffer. Not because of any show of blatant chauvinistic behavior, but because he had caused her to grapple for control last night.

  “You will if you turn me down.”

  She wanted to. For just a second, she wanted to turn around and walk straight out of Houston Sinclair’s life. Or, more truthfully, she wanted him out of hers. Neither would work. This was her job, and she had to do it. “How could I, after such a charming comment?”

  “I was counting on that.”

  He leaned close to her. “Seven still good for you?”

  His face was so close to hers, she could almost count his eyelashes. Close enough to slap. Or kiss. Abby simply answered, “Yes.”

  “Dress casual. We’re eating in the open air.”

  “Shorts okay?”

  Houston grinned. “I wouldn’t be the least bit heartbroken to spend an evening admiring those long, gorgeous legs of yours.” Before she realized his intent, he leaned over and kissed her lightly, quickly on the mouth.

  Then he walked to the door, opened it, and glanced back. “And watch out for sharks.” He pointed at Gil. “Especially the two-legged ones.” And then he disappeared out the door.

  Gazing at him through the window, Abby couldn’t keep herself from grinning. She tried, but it didn’t work. Houston Sinclair was too charming for her own good. And to top it off, he climbed into her dream car and drove away.

  “Great guy.”

  She turned around. “Looks like it.” She had almost forgotten Gil Leland was still standing there.

  “Oh, he is. Take my word.”

  Here was her chance to probe Leland’s personality. And, under the guise of wanting to know all she could about a man she was interested in, ask questions about Houston at the same time. The opportunity was far too good to pass up.

  “I take it you and Houston have known each other a long time.”

  He shrugged. “Just since the second grade.”

  “Whoa. If I had gone looking for a source of information, I couldn’t have done a better job. You must know everything about him, from junior-high Halloween pranks that backfired to the number of girls he sneaked into his college dorm.”

  “Baby, you don’t know the half of it. And since I was right beside him with my own sneaky treat, I can verify everything.” He motioned to a small table set up with a coffee urn. “Buy you a cup?”

  “Thanks,” Abby said, and followed him.

  The name “baby” grated on her nerves as much as his cocky grin, but she wasn’t about to miss her golden opportunity.

  He poured coffee for both of them. “Where would you like for me to start? Cream?”

  “Black, please.”

  He handed her the cup. “I would just love to help you land old Houston.”

  “Who said anything about landing Houston?”

  “You’re obviously interested.”

  “I am. But don’t book the church and order flowers. And please—” she held up her hands “—don’t drag out the family photo albums. Your friend is terrific, but that’s not where this is headed.”

  Gil shook his head. “Too bad. About time he latched on to a woman who didn’t let that handsome face of his get in the way.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He sipped his coffee. “Just that sometimes what’s on the surface can be so attractive, no one bothers to look deeper.”

  “Maybe Houston wants it that way.”

  “To hear him tell it.”

  “But you don’t agree?”

  “Not for a minute.” He took a long drink. “It’s a cover.”

  “For what?”

  “Pain.”

  Abby hadn’t expected Leland to be so honest or so revealing. She pressed her luck. “Would I be insensitive if I asked, about what? Or who?”

  Gil Leland stared into his now almost-empty coffee cup. “It’s not my story to tell. Not really.” Then he looked at Abby, and she saw genuine concern in his green eyes. “But he should talk about it to somebody, that’s for sure.”

  “You th
ink he’s keeping something locked up inside himself. Something… painful.”

  “Yeah. And you can add ‘mysterious.’ Like the disappearing act he pulled a few minutes ago.”

  “You mean today? Just now?”

  “Every day. Well, every other day, at least. He just goes off for a couple of hours. Nobody knows where. When I asked him, he told me to leave it alone.” Gil shrugged. “See what I mean? Mysterious.”

  “It does sound…strange,” Abby agreed. Where could Houston be going on these little jaunts? Her investigator’s mind latched on to the tidbit of information like a snapping turtle. Did he meet someone? And for what purpose?

  “Ah, hell. Guess a man’s entitled to some down time. God knows, Houston’s paid for his. Still—” Gil sighed “—the right woman could make a helluva lotta difference in his life. Shelley sure made a difference in mine.”

  “Shelley?”

  “My wife.” He looked away for a moment. “At least, she was.”

  “Divorce?” she asked, hoping she sounded sincere.

  “No. She was killed in an accident. Nine months and ten days ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Abby had to admit that she was surprised at the grief still so evident in his voice. Not to mention the way he had kept track of the time since his wife’s death. Of course, she was looking at the situation from the point of view of his possible guilt. She still had no proof that Gil had anything to do with the explosion. And to be fair, the man had lost his wife. Loss, no matter what the circumstances, was painful.

  “Thanks.” This time when he smiled, the cockiness was gone. “She was terrific. All sassy and gorgeous. And she knew how to have fun. Not crazy, silly stuff, but, you know, really have fun. No matter where she was. She just loved life. And me.”

  After a pause he added, “That’s what I want for Houston. I love to rib him about the fact that he let a good woman slip right through his fingers.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He dated Shelley before I did. In fact, he introduced us. Ironic, huh?”

  “Yes. That didn’t bother you?”

  “Why should it? She married me. Only time I can remember that I won and Houston lost, when it came to a woman.” He looked away for a moment. “In the end we both lost. I’m just grateful I didn’t lose both of my partners in that explosion.”