“Ah, fodder for blackmail. I’ll remember that,” I said with a grin.
“Remember, that goes both ways.”
Hard to believe my sister, who’d never let a lie past her lips, was worried Terry would find out. I liked it, though. A bonding experience, I decided.
Five minutes later we hurried out to the car, the rain little more than a mist now, but before we were even in the Camry, Steven arrived.
“Got that bathroom torn up for me, Abby?” he called, climbing out of his truck.
“That’s a laugh. You want to see a disaster, hand me a few tools. Didn’t you already put a day’s work in over here?” I said.
He came over, nodded at Kate in greeting, then said, “I need to check a few dimensions before the crew pulls those fixtures next week. You ladies had dinner yet?”
“Is that an invitation?” The Snickers bar hadn’t put a dent in my hunger pangs.
Kate said, “We’ll have to pass, Steven. I promised Terry I’d meet him in town, and I’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.” She cast an anxious glance at her watch as she climbed into my car.
“Maybe next time, Steven.” I opened the door and slipped behind the wheel.
“I don’t want to eat alone, Abby. I’ll bring you home,” he pleaded.
I was hungry, and still feeling the excitement of the afternoon’s adventure. Why not?
Then a voice deep inside whispered,
But I chose to listen to my grumbling stomach instead. So Kate drove on home alone and I went with Steven.
Not until we reached the restaurant did that inner voice start sounding more ominous. Steven had chosen a place complete with candlelight and panoramic ocean view. I was afraid before long he’d be humming “When I Fall in Love” and pressing his knee against mine under the table.
The hostess seated us by the window, and I saw the gulf roiling and frothing in response to the huge, swirling mass of clouds churning overhead.
“That’s an angry sea,” I said.
“I’d love to be out there while everything’s all stirred up,” said Steven.
“You’ve lived half your life in a storm. Doesn’t it feel good to be stable, regularly employed, and sober?” I regretted the words before they were barely out of my mouth. Why couldn’t I keep these brilliant insights to myself?
“I guess so,” came his halfhearted reply.
The waiter approached and I spoke quickly, thankful for the interruption. “We’re ready to order. I’ll have the red snapper, house dressing, and iced tea.”
“Scampi for me, the rest the same,” said Steven.
The waiter returned momentarily with our drinks and a basket of bread sticks. I squeezed lemon into my tea with one hand and nabbed a bread stick with the other.
“Been a while since you saw a meal?” said Steven, watching me with amusement.
“Sorry, but hungry is not something you get better at with practice. Besides, I had a busy day. Made progress, even. After the disappointment of finding a useless CD in the safe-deposit box, I—”
“Wait a minute, back up. CD? Safe-deposit box? Did I miss something?”
“That key. Remember?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. So you didn’t find any exciting secrets?”
“No. Only a spreadsheet and word-processing program Daddy wrote.”
“The one I used when I got myself so messed up with the IRS?”
“That’s the one. Maybe someday I’ll figure out why that CD deserved royal treatment. But forget about that. I have proof Hamilton is connected to Feldman, and might even have his phone number.”
“What do you mean, you might have his phone number? Either you have a phone number or you don’t.”
“I got the numbers off Hamilton’s speed dial. Trouble is, I don’t know who they belong to, and I still don’t know where Feldman lives. But I’m close.” I stuffed a bread stick into my mouth.
“Slow down before you choke yourself. So how did you manage all this in one day?”
“Kate helped me. She visited Hamilton’s office and jotted down the numbers when Hamilton left for a moment.” Okay, so it was variation on the truth.
I washed the last crust away with a gulp of tea as the salads arrived. I started in, avoiding his eyes. He could usually tell when I was lying. But if Kate was sworn to secrecy, so was I. Besides, I couldn’t tell him about the security guard and leave out the naked part. The last thing Steven wanted to hear after that wingding on the lawn with Jeff was about me prancing around in my underwear again. If I wanted him to accept that a romantic relationship between us was no longer possible, I’d better not agitate him.
An hour later we were on our way back to Houston, rain sprinkling intermittently. I yawned as the rhythm of the windshield wipers threatened to put me to sleep. Exhaustion had been lurking beneath my hunger, and now that I’d eaten, I could hardly keep my eyes open.
Steven said, “If this storm turns out as bad as they’re predicting, we’ll be wading through the halls of that Victorian like ducks. I’ll come back tomorrow and secure those windows, but it may not help much.”
“I’m coming back, too. Should I meet you?” I said.
“I’ve got another job, but I could catch you over there, say, late afternoon. What’s going on? You still hunting Feldman?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re convinced you can crack the case, huh? You always were the most stubborn human I ever laid eyes on. And the best-looking, too.” He reached over and placed his hand over mine.
“I agree about the good-looking part, but stubborn belongs to you, hands down.”
He laughed. “I won’t argue. Don’t pass out from surprise, but if it’ll win you back, I’ll agree to anything.”
I gently pulled my hand from under his. “Steven, listen... I don’t love you anymore. At least not like that.”
“You told me I owned stubborn, right? You’ll see I’ve changed and you’ll find that love again. It’s only turned up missing for a while.” He stared at the misty road ahead, and the rest of the drive was very quiet.
22
The next day a steady, slow rain fell, foreshadowing tropical storm Carl’s assault on the Gulf Coast. I delivered to CompuCan the contracts I’d signed, this time passing on a visit to Willis’s office. But I ran into him on the elevator. He said he was meeting Aunt Caroline for lunch and asked me to join them.
Why would I want to willingly subject myself to double torture? But the words
“Abby! Just the person I wanted to see.” Her smile was as wide as that of a small dog with a large bone.
“How scary,” I said. “You hardly ever want to see me. Kate maybe. But not me.”
“I need to speak with you about the business, so let’s talk over lunch.”
Business. Couldn’t very well wiggle out of that one, so I agreed. We ate at Carrabba’s Italian Grill, and between bites of linguini I soon found out what this “business” involved. Monkey business. She wanted me to hire that muscle-brained Hans person.
We haggled through the meal, and Willis kept silent for the most part, concentrating on his
When reasoning with Aunt Caroline didn’t work, I suggested Hans could work for Willis as a courier, but this idea didn’t pass muster with either of them. So finally I played my trump card: I mentioned all the valuable items
