Hunting Houston

by Sandy Steen

  “Are we still on for dinner?”

  “Yes,” she said, knowing he was asking about more than dinner, knowing she was answering about much more. “Yes.”

  “Will you be ready by seven-thirty?”

  “Seven.”

  He grinned, deliriously happy. Happier than he could remember being in a long, long time. “Care to try for six-thirty?”

  Abby glanced at her watch. “It’s five-thirty now.”

  “And?”

  “I’d have to leave right now to make six-thirty.”

  He groaned, and buried his face against her neck. “Too high a price to pay.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, lifting his face for another kiss. He happily obliged. “The sooner I leave, the sooner we can be together,” she promised.

  “Yes, but-”

  The telephone on the desk rang.

  “Damn.” Houston stared at the phone, trying to decide whether to answer it or not, finally giving in. “That’s twice a telephone has interrupted us. I’m seriously thinking of disconnecting every one in my house before you come over tonight.” He stomped to the desk and answered it.

  “Lone Star Dive Shop. Gil? I don’t know. Hold on a minute.” He put his hand over the phone and looked at Abby. “Did Gil say where he was going?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m not sure,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Fine, I’ll have him call you.”

  After he hung up, Houston scribbled a message and number for Gil. “Oh, damn.” He pointed to a computer disk lying on the desk. “Gil told me this morning that he had an appointment with the CPA.”

  “Was the call urgent?”

  “Naw, not really. He’s gone to take the quarterly tax. figures. He’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  As soon as Houston mentioned CPA, Abby’s mind began to turn and click like cogs in a wheel. One of those latent instincts that had helped her move up the career ladder picked this moment to stand and demand attention. Why would Gil be taking information to the CPA? Wasn’t that usually a bookkeeper’s job?

  Despite her feelings for Houston, everything in her practically screamed that this was important. She had to ask the question. “So, Gil takes care of your bookkeeping?”

  “Yeah.” Houston returned to nuzzle her ear. He rested his hand at her neck, his thumb stroking the side of her throat. “He has a knack with numbers. Always has.”

  A knack with numbers.

  Suddenly Abby experienced one of those moments of illumination that make everything crystal clear. The realization was enlightening, so hit-the-nail-on-the-head perfect, her heart rate jumped. She was right. She knew it.

  “Hmm,” Houston said against her skin. “It’s nice to know my touch makes your heart beat faster.”

  “It, uh…” Her hands clutched his shoulders. “Yes, it does.”

  And if she was right, Houston was in for major pain, and disappointment. He was in for the loss of a friend. As far as trusting was concerned, he was going to have the rug jerked out from under him.

  “How about we just forget about the time, and go straight to my house?”

  Abby wanted to cry, scream, and stomp her feet. Houston had trusted Gil most of his life. This was unfair. She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she loved him, in the hope that it could, would make up for what she was now certain Gil had done to him.

  In the end, she settled for putting her arms around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. A wave of fierce protectiveness washed over her..With her hand at the back of his head, she pressed him closer, urging him to deepen the kiss. She leaned into him, into the kiss, almost with desperation.

  “Whoa,” he said when they finally broke apart. “Hey, what’s this?” Frowning, he reached out and collected a tear from her cheek. “Abby, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she lied, trying to smile.

  “Did I say something or do something—”

  “No,” she rushed to assure him. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I’m not…really. It’s just that—” she wiped away another tear “—strong emotions do this to me.”

  “Strong emotions?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I have a lot of them where you’re concerned.”

  Part of her heart soared with just that much truth. Another part was heavy, breaking for what she knew was ahead—for both of them.

  “So, these are happy tears?”

  Because she couldn’t trust her voice with the lie, she simply nodded her head.

  “All right. But I couldn’t stand it if I made you cry.” He kissed her mouth, softly, sweetly.

  “You didn’t. Honest.”

  “If you say so. You know, if I kiss you one more time, we won’t make six-thirty.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “C’mon.” He took her hand and led her to the door. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Abby kept up her smiling front all the way downstairs, out of the shop, and to her car. She kept it up while Houston hugged her, kissed her on the cheek and helped her into her car. She even kept it up when he closed her car door, leaned in through her open window and told her he was counting the minutes until six-thirty. She kept it up until she drove out of sight.

  Then she started to cry so hard she had trouble seeing the road.

  “Damn Gil Leland.” She swiped at her wet cheeks. “Damn him, damn him, damn him.” Her anger stayed with her all the way back to the condo.

  “That rotten little son of a bitch,” she said, slamming the front door behind her.

  It all made sense now. No wonder none of Gil’s gambling debts were outstanding. Oh, they had been paid off, all right.

  And he had used money out of the Lone Star Dive Shop bank account to do it.

  Abby couldn’t think of a name foul enough to call Gil Leland. If he had been standing in front of her at that very moment, she wasn’t certain murder would have been an impossibility. He had been using company funds to cover his losses for no telling how long. Probably long enough that it was becoming harder and harder to juggle the books effectively. Long enough that he’d become desperate.

  So he’d decided to blow his problems out of the water. Only he hadn’t counted on two people being aboard.

  It didn’t matter that she was essentially dealing with supposition. It didn’t matter that she still had no proof. The proof would come. Abby knew it the way she knew the sun would come up tomorrow. And when it did, she was certain Leland would be implicated right up to his neck.

  So certain, she never once considered the possibility that Houston might not believe her.

  While preparing for their evening, Houston kept telling himself that just because she had “a lot of strong emotions where he was concerned,” didn’t mean she was in love with him. Yesterday, that might not have been very important to him. Today it was.

  Because today he had missed seeing her, missed being with her, missed her—more than he had ever thought it was possible to miss anyone.

  Because today he had discovered that he was in love with her.

  When love had happened, he couldn’t say. And at first, the realization had shaken him like a bad aftershock. But then, the more he thought about it, the more he knew it was true, and real. And right. His love for Abby had settled comfortably around his heart as if it had always been there, waiting for her to claim it.

  She had given him back something he had thought he’d lost nine months ago. Something he’d feared he had lost forever. She had given him back hope.

  But how long would that hope last if she knew the secret he carried inside him? Would she still smile so sweetly? Kiss him so passionately? Everything in him told him they could have something incredibly special together. Everything in him told him she was the one.

  And tonight would be the perfect time to tell her. He wanted to make love to her. Hot and fast. Slow a
nd easy. For hours and hours. Days. In the sunlight. Under the stars. Exactly the way he had told her he would. But as much as his soul cried out to express his love, he couldn’t. Telling her he loved her before he told her the truth was cruelly dishonest, and manipulative. He couldn’t. Even if it meant he would never have her, never make love to her. Even if it meant losing her for good.

  He had to tell her the truth.

  He had to tell her he was a coward.

  “Did I tell you how great you look this evening? Not that you don’t look terrific all the time,” Houston said as they raced along Highway 30 toward his house.

  “Great save. And yes, you’ve told me twice. But I don’t mind.” She had selected her favorite outfit for tonight, wanting to look her best for him. What appeared to be a dress was actually a skirt and blouse. Made from a gauzy periwinkle blue fabric, the skirt swirled around her slender body when she walked. The blouse, made of the same fabric, was a halter style that buttoned down the front and didn’t permit the wearing of a bra. The buttons had taken her an infuriatingly long time to fasten. Her fingers had never been so slow or clumsy.

  Houston dared to take his eyes off the road long enough to feast on her beauty. That dress she was wearing was a cross between Marilyn Monroe sexy, and schoolteacher prim, with that row of little pearl buttons down the front. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  His voice sounded so… desperate was the only word that came to mind. But it must be her imagination. She was probably projecting her own fears. Abby looked at his profile. There was something different about him tonight. She struggled for the right word, and found sober. That’s it, she thought. Regardless of his light banter, underneath it all, he was wrestling with something weighty.

  “Where were you when I was a gangly thirteen-yearold with freckles and braces?” Since he was obviously trying to keep his dark mood at bay, the least she could do was help.

  “What happened to the freckles?”

  “Most of them went away.”

  “Most?”

  “I’ve still got a few… here, and there.”

  He whipped the T-Bird into his driveway, killed the motor, then walked around and opened her door. She stepped out, and right into his arms.

  “Freckles, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “After dinner, I think I’ll conduct my own little treasure hunt and find them.” He kissed her hard, and fast.

  “I’ll draw you a map,” she offered, more than a little breathless.

  He slipped his arm around her waist, and they walked into the house.

  Once again Abby was struck by the feeling of welcome, the instant she stepped inside. “I like your house.”

  “Thanks. I like you in it.” Seeing her here, he suddenly realized he wanted her in his home on a permanent basis. Would that ever happen after tonight? He took her hand, gave it a little squeeze. “C’mon into the kitchen with me.”

  “Oh, so now I have to work for my supper?”

  “I promise, no hard labor.”

  He opened the refrigerator and removed a large bowl of salad greens, which he set on the counter. He handed her a paring knife and two tomatoes. “It’s either this or washing dishes.”

  “Quick, give me those tomatoes,” Abby said.

  They worked together pulling the rest of the meal together. Houston had prepared a shrimp-and-pasta dish ahead of time, and now removed it from the warming oven to place on the table. Abby carried her finished salad to the dining nook. He grabbed the bread and wine, and followed her.

  “Would you rather eat outside, like last time?”

  “No, this is fine.”

  Actually, it was wonderful. Candles flickered from so many spots throughout the room that they winked like starlight. Handel’s Water Music was playing again, and the mood was soft, seductive.

  They ate, and talked of things inconsequential. The urgency and tension that had characterized their time together that afternoon had melted away.

  For Houston it was an opportunity to simply enjoy being with her—the sound of her voice, the way she tilted her head when she laughed, the way her eyes went all soft and misty when he complimented her.

  For Abby it was a time to hold on to the sheer joy of loving him. A precious little time, she knew. For now, she didn’t want to think of what tomorrow might bring. All she wanted was tonight. All she wanted was to love him.

  When they finished she helped him clear the dishes, then they went into the living room. The lights were low, more candles were scattered around the room. Music still played, but the selection had changed to some old seventies ballads.

  “Tell me, Mr. Sinclair. What’s your opinion on dancing?”

  “Why, Miss Abigail, are you asking me to dance?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ll even let you lead.”

  “How can I resist such a generous offer?” he said, sweeping her into his embrace. “But first, I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet-covered box.

  “I bought this the day we went to Whaler’s Village. I had intended to give it to you that night, but you weren’t feeling well.” He opened the box to reveal a delicate locket on a chain. Set in filigree, it was an oval-shaped disk of whalebone, scarcely larger than a dime, which held a tiny scrimshawed humpback whale.

  “It’s…” She reached out and tentatively ran the tip of her finger over the astonishingly detailed work. “Absolutely stunning.” Abby glanced up at Houston. “But, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Too late. Do you like it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “That’s all that counts.” He removed the locket and set the box aside. “Turn around.”

  Abby turned, and a second later he fastened the chain around her neck. “There,” he said, turning her back to face him. “Perfect. Just like the lady who wears it.”

  “I don’t know about that, but this—” she fingered the locket “—is a wonderful gift. Thank you, Houston. I’ll treasure it.”

  “You’re very—” he kissed her cheek “—welcome. Now where were we? Ah, yes.” He whisked her into his arms and back to the dance. “Hmm, you feel good.”

  “So do you.”

  She felt like heaven in his arms, and he wanted to hold on to the feeling. He tightened his embrace. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could freeze time, and just hang on to this moment forever?”

  “Yes.” To freeze time? It would be wonderful, she thought. Too bad it was only a dream.

  “On second thought, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then you’d miss my dip.” Smiling into her eyes, he demonstrated by arching her over his arm in a very graceful dip.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  He eased her upright again. The smiled faded. “I wouldn’t have missed you for the world.”

  She traced the outline of his beard with her fingertip. “But you didn’t miss me. I’m right here.” For how long? was the question that was tearing her apart.

  “I came close to missing you. It scares me to think how close.”

  “You’re talking about the accident?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t think about it,” Abby whispered. “We’re here now. Together. That’s enough.”

  He stopped dancing. “Is it? God, I hope so.”

  “It’s enough for me. I don’t want to think about the past tonight. You’re lucky you don’t remember that painful part of yours.”

  “I wish I didn’t.”

  “But you said—”

  “Abby…” He led her to the sofa and pulled her down beside him. “I wasn’t completely honest when I told you I didn’t remember the accident.”

  “What do you mean, ‘completely’?”

  “I don’t remember the details because I don’t want to remember.”

  “But that’s not so unusual—”

  He took both her hands in his. “Abby, listen to me. Wha
t I don’t remember means nothing. It’s what I do remember that brings the nightmares. The secret that I keep that eats away at my soul like acid. And I have to tell you.”

  “No,” Abby said, suddenly fearful. What if he told her something that would affect the investigation? Although as a professional she needed to hear it, as a woman she didn’t want to. The woman in her won. “I don’t want to know. It doesn’t make any difference what you remember or what you don’t remember.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “No, Houston-”

  “Abby.” He caged her face in his hands. “Sweet Abby. You have to know.”

  And he had to know what she would do when she heard all he had to say. He had to be able to look into her eyes and see for himself if he had lost her.

  “I’ve kept it locked up inside me for so long. You have to trust me, Abby. It’s the only way.”

  She placed her hands over his. “A-all right,” she said, taking his hands to hold them.

  “Shelley wanted to surprise Gil, so she decided to come along at the last minute. The weather was calm when we left Lahaina. Late in the afternoon the wind came up, and we drifted off course slightly before I realized it. I—I remember thinking the sunset was one of the most spectacular I’d ever seen. Shelley agreed.”

  His mouth twisted into a tight grin, his voice changed, and he seemed to be talking more to himself than to her. “Funny how little things take on so much importance. She had this thing—she called it a tradition—about going below at the end of the day to brew a pot of coffee.” Beneath her hand, his curled into a hard fist. “If she hadn’t been so hung up on that stupid tradition, she’d probably still be alive.”

  He blinked, his eyes darted to Abby’s. “I didn’t mean that. It wasn’t stupid. Sh-she—”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. You don’t have to feel guilty about saying that. It’s all right.”

  “I was correcting our course.” He started up again, but his voice was shaky. “She was in the galley or on the stairs, I’m not sure which, and then…” He closed his eyes as if he could shut out the memories. “I heard a loud noise, and then, then I was in the water. The… The next thing I remember is Sh-Shelley calling for me t-to help her. I don’t know where I was or where she was. The fire was everywhere. But she was calling me…calling me.”