The Santa Sleuth

by Heather MacAllister

A corner of his mouth tilted upward. "Yes."

  "So?" She smiled brightly. "Let's do it again in Dallas."

  He considered for a moment, then shook his head once more.

  Amanda hadn't expected opposition. She'd been looking forward to a repeat of that Saturday. Obviously, Kirk hadn't.

  Okay. She got the message. Something had happened since their picnic and he wanted to blow off their fledgling relationship. Fine. Well, not fine, but she'd explore that later. In the meanwhile, whatever might have been between them shouldn't affect Virginia's reports.

  "Oh, come on." She put a hand on his arm. "They promised to drive us around in a limousine. Virginia will just--"

  Kirk pulled his arm away. "I said no!"

  Amanda was shocked into silence.

  "I don't want to think about Dallas. I don't have time to go to Dallas. I'm trying to sell a house here!"

  Amanda, her mouth working, backed away. She tripped down the curb, her arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance.

  Kirk grabbed her before she fell, hauling her into his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated again and again, holding her close.

  Amanda clung to him, even when she'd regained her balance. No one had held her like this in a long time. She could hear his heart thumping against her ear and for a moment surrendered to the desire to feel cherished.

  "It's this house." Kirk drew a ragged breath. "It's this damn house."

  She heard the pain in his voice and forced herself to lift her head. He probably regretted his show of emotion. "Hard to sell?" But Amanda knew it was more than that. Kirk was the type of man who'd enjoy the challenge of a tough sell.

  He loosened his grip, and she reluctantly pulled away. "The Rambling Ranch is a legend in Houston real-estate circles. It's been for sale off and on for years. The original owners died and the heirs want out from under it."

  "I can see why." Amanda turned and leaned against Kirk's car, hoping the two tears that had leaked out the corner of her eyes had evaporated now. Hoped she'd left no wet spots on his tie.

  "There's a bonus that members of the board of realtors funded for the person who finally sells this house. And every brand-new agent takes a crack at showing this house."

  His voice sounded normal again. Amanda risked a glance at him. "You aren't interested in the money, are you? You just want the distinction of being the person to sell this house."

  "I used to. Now it's ... personal."

  She waited, but he didn't continue. Did he really think she'd abandon the topic after a statement like that? "So what's the story?"

  "This is where I met Michelle."

  "Virginia's mother." Now Amanda understood his edginess.

  "Yeah." He still stared down to the end of the block, but Amanda realized he wasn't seeing the trees or watching for cars. He was remembering his wife. "We were both hotshot brokers determined to sell this house. One day, we showed up here at the same time. I had an artsy-type couple and she was dragging along some rich foreigner."

  Amanda laughed. "Did she think foreigners have no taste?"

  Kirk grinned. "I believe her reasoning was that he was so rich she could sell him on the merits of the location, with the idea that he'd tear down the house."

  "What happened?"

  "A military coup, I think. He went back to his own country."

  "And your artsy couple?"

  "Wanted to live in a different area of town."

  "And Michelle?" While Amanda was deciding whether she really wanted to hear about Kirk's wife--since he obviously still mourned her and since he just as obviously had changed his mind about a possible relationship--he continued talking.

  "Three months after that, we were married."

  "That was quick."

  Kirk shrugged. "I knew what I wanted and so did she. No need to waste time."

  Unlike me, Amanda thought. I've wasted a lot of time.

  "She was my partner in McEnery Realtors." He shook his head. "Talk about struggling. We picked the absolute worst time in Houston real-estate history to start an agency. We didn't care, though. We were going to sell this house and the commission would carry us for months."

  "But you didn't sell the house."

  "No one else did, either." His mouth tightened and he drew a quick, hard breath. "She ... was on her way over here to show it when she died."

  The revelation was so unexpected that Amanda gasped, involuntarily clutching his arm. Kirk had turned and leaned both arms over the roof of the car.

  "An auto accident?" Amanda whispered.

  He shook his head no. "A brain aneurysm. Her car just kept going and hit the brick wall that lines Memorial Drive."

  "How horrible. When ...?"

  " ... did it happen?" he completed the question for her. "Almost four years ago. I met her, married her, became a father and lost her all in seven months."

  As Amanda searched for something to say, Kirk nodded toward the end of the street. "They're here."

  "I'll leave you." Amanda quickly walked to her car and opened the door.

  "Amanda?" Kirk called to her, but watched the approach of the other car. "About Dallas ..."

  As he hesitated, Amanda held her breath.

  "I'll be tied up here. But if you want to take Virginia, and she wants to go, then it's okay."

  Yipee. "Thanks," Amanda said, and hopped in her car before he could change his mind. Or before she could change hers.

  ***

  "I want to go fill up the ice bucket," Virginia announced.

  Amanda was already stretched across the bed, her eyes closed. "Do you know where the ice machine is?"

  There was a telling hesitation before a confident, "Uh-huh."

  Liar, Amanda thought without anger. She was tired. Why wasn't Virginia tired? And when did a puddle-jumper flight like Houston to Dallas become such an ordeal? How many packets of peanuts had Virginia eaten in the hour, anyway?

  "Wait a minute and I'll go with you."

  Virginia frowned.

  "I want to stretch my legs." Okay, so now Amanda was a liar, too.

  "You don't trust me," Virginia accused her.

  With a supreme effort of will, Amanda dragged herself off the bed. "I trust you, kiddo, but there are some weirdos in this world I don't."

  "Will they be at the ice machine?" A hopeful smile crept across her features.

  "Knowing my luck," Amanda grumbled, unlocking the door. She wore no shoes. They seemed tight and confining after her first experience traveling with a child since she’d been a child.

  Virginia ran down the hall, checking corridors for the ice machine. Then she reported on her findings to Amanda. Amanda had no problem with Virginia running--that used up energy--but she seemed unable to communicate except by shouting.

  She’d found the ice machine and was filling the bucket by using her hands, instead of the metal scoop, when Amanda caught up with her.

  "What can I have to drink?" Virginia asked as Amanda handed her the scoop.

  A quick glance told Amanda that all the drinks for sale contained caffeine. No way. "It's too late for a drink." Except a giant double-strength margarita. "Gosh, it's almost time for bed." Amanda didn't have to fake the yawn that followed. "I'll buy you a drink in the morning."

  "What time is it?" Virginia grabbed Amanda's wrist. "Eight thirty-two," she said, disgusted. "Only babies go to bed this early."

  "Babies and associate producers," Amanda corrected.

  "I'll go to bed after Daddy gets here," Virginia announced, putting the lid back on the ice bucket.

  Amanda studied her warily. Hadn't Kirk told Virginia he wasn't coming to Dallas? Or had that rat left it to Amanda to break the bad news?

  "Can I have a drink now?"

  "Uh ... I didn't bring my purse."

  "Well, go get it."

  Amanda took a step backward and crunched a piece of ice. "Ow!" The sound reverberated around the tiny uncarpeted room.

  "Shh!" Virginia said.

  Limping w
etly back to their room, Amanda scoured her mind for a way to let the little girl know that her daddy wasn't coming.

  "When's Daddy coming?" Virginia bounced on Amanda's bed and crawled over to her purse.

  Amanda took it and quickly counted the change. There'd been a snack machine, too. Maybe Virginia could be bought off with potato chips.

  "When's ... Daddy ... coming?" Virginia repeated, punctuating each word with a bounce.

  "You'll see him when you get home on Sunday. Here's a dollar in quarters, and I've got nickels and dimes, too. Want something to eat? Amanda smiled gamely and extended a handful of change.

  "I want to see him now." Virginia accepted the money and slid off the bed.

  "Your dad's back in Houston." Amanda ran to open the door. "Remember the airplane trip?" Amanda knew she wouldn't soon forget it. "We're in Dallas. Dallas is a long way from Houston." Wrong thing to say. "I don't mean long long," she backpedaled. "But we'd have to drive several hours in the car, which is why we flew in the airplane."

  Virginia's eyes were wide. A dime rolled to the floor.

  "C'mon. Let's go find something to eat." Amanda smiled as if everything was just fine, hoping that it would be.

  It wasn't.

  "I want my Daddy." Virginia's eyes were bright with tears and her nose had turned pink.

  "You'll see your daddy before you know it. We'll have our snack and put on our jammies and sleep. Then tomorrow we'll visit lots of Santa Clauses and sleep some more." Amanda spoke faster and faster, racing Virginia's impending tears. "We'll fly on another airplane, and when you get home, your daddy will be there." And he better be, too.

  "I want to go home!"

  "You will. Right now, we're ... we're having an adventure. Just you and me. On a road trip." Amanda stood by the open door, grinning inanely. "And we're just about to eat a lot of junk food, and there's nobody to stop us!"

  Virginia ran out the door, but she didn't go in the direction of the snack machines.

  "Virginia!" Amanda caught up with her at the elevator. "The machines are down that way."

  "I want to go home. You can't make me stay!" Virginia's voice was shrill.

  "Virginia ... " Amanda took her arm just as a man and woman exited the elevator.

  "No!" Virginia shrieked. "I want my Daddy! I don't want to stay with you!" She beat on Amanda's arm.

  The couple stared.

  "Shh!" Amanda sent an embarrassed smile to the couple.

  They didn't smile back.

  "Her father is in Houston," Amanda explained, knowing the couple thought the worst.

  Wailing, Virginia sagged to the floor, forcing Amanda to let go or fall over herself. "I want Da-a-addy!"

  The couple didn't move and the man took a step toward Virginia. Amanda was conscious that at least one hotel room door had opened and the occupant had come out to stare at them.

  "Virginia ... Virginia!" Amanda had to shout. She'd never felt so helpless in her life. "Let's go call your dad. Wouldn't you like to talk to your daddy?"

  Sobbing, Virginia nodded and stood up.

  Weak with relief, Amanda hustled her back down the hall and into their room. She grabbed the phone. "Okay, what's your home number?" Amanda had it in her purse, but hoped to distract the crying child.

  Kirk McEnery, you'd better be at home.

  He was. As soon as Amanda heard his voice, she thrust the telephone at Virginia, not even speaking to Kirk.

  "Daddy!" Virginia wailed.

  A tense Amanda sat on the opposite bed and waited.

  Five minutes passed. Then ten. Over and over Virginia asked for him to come or insisted on going home.

  Why hadn't Kirk told her he wasn't coming with them?

  After fifteen minutes, Amanda wondered why she didn't have a throbbing headache. She was certainly entitled.

  "Okay." Virginia handed the telephone to Amanda.

  This was one call she didn't want to take.

  "Hello?" she warbled, trying to bluff her way through this.

  "What have you done to her?"

  "Nothing," Amanda replied, not liking his accusing tone.

  "She's hysterical."

  "Yes, I know." Amanda's voice made it clear that she was well aware of Virginia's hysteria and had been for some time.

  She heard him sigh. "I should've never let you take her up there."

  "That's what I thought you'd say."

  "Can you blame me?"

  Amanda had strong opinions on that subject, but knew better than to voice them.

  "Is he coming?" Virginia whispered.

  Kirk must have heard her. "Tell her I'm coming and that she'd better get her little rear in bed right now!"

  ***

  "She's asleep," Amanda whispered.

  It was well after midnight when a weary Kirk tapped on the room door. He pushed past Amanda, strode over to the bed and stared down at his daughter.

  Naturally she looked like an angel. No resemblance at all to the shrieking child Amanda had been forced to deal with earlier.

  Shooting Amanda a dark look, Kirk beckoned for her to follow him out into the hall.

  Amanda slipped the room key into her vest pocket and pulled the door shut behind her. Then she leaned against it, bracing herself for his blast of anger.

  "What happened?" Although the overriding emotion in his voice was concern, Amanda heard the anger simmering beneath it.

  "Virginia seemed to think you were going to meet us here."

  Kirk's eyes narrowed. "Who gave her that idea?"

  "Well, I didn't!"

  He thrust his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, his expression remote. "Mrs. Webster and I explained the trip to her. This morning, when I said goodbye, I went through the usual 'behave yourself' routine and told her I'd see her on Sunday."

  "Well, somehow, she got the idea that you'd be here with us."

  "Somehow?"

  Amanda didn't like the way he said that. "Are you accusing me of manipulating Virginia so you'd fly up here?" They might as well get it out into the open.

  "Yes," he replied without hesitation.

  She wanted blunt, she got blunt. "Why would I do that?"

  He made a derisive sound. "For the same reason every woman feels she has to exercise her maternal prowess and interfere in my relationship with Virginia."

  "I have no maternal prowess! Three hours with me and she's hysterical."

  "So you need a little practice."

  She straightened, suddenly feeling uncomfortably close to him, but Kirk didn't move back. "For your much-needed edification," she declared, not giving ground even though she was near enough to feel the heat of his body, "I don't want any practice."

  "You don't see yourself as a mother?"

  Amanda shook her head. "And this trip confirms it."

  Some of the anger left his face as he realized she was serious. "Being a parent isn't all bad." He half smiled. "If I can do it, anybody can."

  "Being a parent is time-consuming, a lot of trouble and a lot of hassle." She drew a deep breath. "And it's not for me."

  She swallowed, knowing she'd just killed any hope of a romance with Kirk McEnery--as if their argument hadn't already.

  He must have known it, too. "You're basing your whole impression of parenthood on one difficult evening?" His mouth twisted. "I hope you're more diligent in researching your television programs."

  Amanda bristled. Criticizing her mothering abilities was one thing; attacking her professionalism was out of line. "You forget, I've spent a lot of time with Virginia lately--probably more than you."

  Her rebuke hit home. "I do have a business to run," he reminded her, his voice cold.

  "Yes, you have a time-consuming job with erratic hours." She pressed her palm against her chest. "I have a time- consuming job with erratic hours. Frankly, neither of us has time for a child." Amanda gasped. She hadn't meant to say the last part out loud.

  Kirk's face whitened in outrage. "Virginia and I are managin
g just fine!"

  "That's because all those women you accused of interfering are taking care of Virginia for you."

  "That's not true."

  And Amanda could tell he honestly believed it. Even she, with no parenting experience at all, could see that he was headed for trouble with Virginia. It was a classic case. Virginia had thrown an old-fashioned tantrum this evening to get attention from her father--and it had worked. Amanda knew Virginia's ploys had worked in the past and would probably work in the future. Kirk seemed completely unaware.

  But it was late and she was tired and angry. This was not the time to be discussing child-rearing--especially when Kirk's relationship with Virginia was none of her business. Once it might have become her business, but she'd pretty well scotched that, so why not warn Kirk that he and his daughter were headed for trouble?

  "Not true? Say you're running behind schedule. No problem, someone from your office will pick Virginia up from daycare. You have to work late? Virginia waits in your reception area."

  "Sometimes that can't be helped."

  "I think it happens a lot more than sometimes. You have a whole support system in place, and yet you don't acknowledge how much you depend on it."

  As Kirk stared at her, Amanda watched the pain seep into his expression. "Virginia doesn't have two parents--only me. And I have to support us. Anyone in my situation would depend on others some of the time."

  "You depend on others all the time," she said as gently as she could. "You have a housekeeper who apparently does everything from making Virginia's medical appointments to shopping for her clothes."

  "That's her job."

  "That's right--her job. You're Virginia's father. When do you spend time with her?"

  "So I was right." His jaw hardened. "You think I've been neglecting Virginia, so you engineered this little bonding excursion."

  Amanda sighed. "I didn't."

  "The question is, who was supposed to bond?" He leaned forward, withdrawing a hand from his pocket and placing it on the wall beside her. Amanda felt the door knob in her back. "Virginia and I, or you and I?"

  And she'd actually once, briefly, been attracted to him.

  "You egotistical jerk!" She raised her hand to push him back, and he caught her wrist.

  "I told you I wanted to see you again. And you told me you needed time to think. So I gave you time." Amanda pulled, but he didn't let go. "What happened? Did you panic and think I'd lost interest?"