only knew she couldn’t let it happen.
Keith stood there until the limousine’s taillights were out of sight, then avoided the clubhouse and the valet, and walked to the parking lot to get his car for himself. It was much cooler at midnight than it had been earlier and the fresh night air felt good to him. Even so, he walked with his head down.
The night had not gone as well as he’d hoped. Dorian’s appearance had put everyone that knew the score on edge, of course, but even without that, Keith wasn’t satisfied with the evening—all due to Andrea’s adamant refusal to let down her guard with him. There was a wall around her that he hadn’t been able to breach with teasing good humor, open and admitted admiration or a pass he probably shouldn’t have made. It was odd how differently each of them saw the past. Possibly they’d been in love in college, but he couldn’t be sure. His head had been so full of ambitious dreams and he’d honestly believed Andrea had felt the same way. Even now Keith was positive they hadn’t been ready for the responsibilities of marriage back then; there were too many things to be done before taking that particular step.
Still, there had always been a serious connection between them, from their toddler sandbox days to that first experimental kiss and on through the rigors of high school. It was during the summer following high-school graduation, Keith recalled, that they had begun seeing each other as adults. And then in college they had gotten closer still. If it had been up to him they would have spent most of their free time in bed. Damn, he’d wanted her! Andrea was the one who’d kept things cool between them, but hadn’t her attitude been rather childish? After all, they had ended up in a horrific fight that had completely destroyed what they’d had, and, thinking about it now, Keith couldn’t help blaming Andrea’s stubborn insistence on chastity as the cause of their breakup.
Oh, well, he thought with a heavy sigh as he reached his car and got into it. Tearing apart the past was useless. He needed to concentrate on the present, on his campaign to prove Dorian’s guilt and on what he was going to do about Andrea now. They were completely separate issues, but each was seriously crucial to Keith’s peace of mind.
He simply was not going to accept Andrea’s avoidance any longer, that was all there was to it. Andy Vance O’Rourke was going to learn that he could be every bit as stubborn as she was, and what’s more, he was going to have fun in the process.
And so was she. Seeing her tonight, watching her so closely, sensing her withdrawal from anything that didn’t measure up to whatever high-handed rules she lived by had told him that she needed some fun in her life. Some real fun.
He was the guy to provide it, the guy to make her laugh and love and enjoy herself.
He knew it in his soul.
Andrea had an awful time sleeping that night, or what was left of it. She came wide awake at six the next morning, lay in her bed tired and resentful for an hour, then got up and stood under the shower until her head felt clearer.
Usually she ran in the morning. Rarely did a morning pass, in fact, that she didn’t run at least three miles. Her route took her from Pine Valley, Royal’s upscale community in which she and nearly everyone who could afford it had their home, to Royal Park, which had a well-used hiking trail completely surrounding it. A couple of turns around that trail and then the return trip to Pine Valley added up to three miles, a good workout.
It bothered Andrea that Keith lived in Pine Valley, too, although his mansion was on Millionaire’s Row, as that one particular area of Pine Valley was called by those in the know, and her house was quite some distance away. But she’d always known where he lived, even when she’d purchased her home, so she had eventually taken his presence—albeit mostly invisible—in stride.
Her house was lovely, small by Pine Valley standards, but very cozy and homey. It was a typical rancher but with lots of bells and whistles. After Jerry’s death she had sold the house they’d lived in during their marriage and bought this one. It would never do for a family, but it was perfect for one or two people. She had decorated it exactly to her liking, the very first time she’d been able to do that, and the interior colors were soft and conducive to peaceful relaxation.
This Sunday morning Andrea felt neither peaceful nor relaxed. She didn’t want to run, either. She was restless, barely able to sit still for more than a minute, but running held no appeal today, and these were very uncommon feelings for her to have. She knew who to blame for her unusual edginess.
How dared Keith kiss her last night? Memories of the entire evening seemed to bombard her from every direction.
It was noon before she felt halfway normal again, before she was calm enough to phone the officers of New Hope and relate the amount of the Texas Cattleman’s Club’s donation. They were, of course, overjoyed.
After that Andrea went back to bed, ignored several telephone calls that she let her voice mail pick up and spent a perfectly miserable afternoon switching channels on the large-screen television set in her bedroom.
It appeared that Keith Owens was succeeding in ruining her life, just as she’d feared would be the case if she were ever nice to him even one time.
Keith’s Sunday was almost as unproductive as Andrea’s, the main difference being the time he spent in searching the files in Eric Chambers’s computer. Keith had brought the computer home rather than to his company office, as he wanted the club members’ interest in this whole sad affair to remain as low-key as possible. That was the way the men of the club that were involved in saving lives and/or bringing criminals to justice worked—discreetly, strategically, invisibly.
The computer’s hard disk was laden with accounting files, understandable since Eric had been vice president of accounting at Wescott Oil. But there were numerous sub-files with far more information about clients of Wescott Oil than Keith thought necessary, indicating to him that Eric had been obsessive about detail. Nowhere, however, were there any notations or entries regarding the missing money. Considering Eric’s penchant for detail, Keith thought that strange.
After hours of searching, he opened Eric’s personal journal file and looked for hidden attachments. He could find nothing more than Rob had, but that didn’t satisfy Keith. He was positive that he had to be missing something, and he wasn’t giving up on finding it after only one session. Still, he turned off the computer, got to his feet and stretched his back.
For the rest of the evening he thought about the ball and Andrea. Just as he couldn’t give up on cracking Eric’s computer secrets, neither could he give up on Andrea just because she hadn’t encouraged his interest last night.
And he had an idea of what to do next to get her attention, too. He only hoped it would work.
Three
The following morning, a Monday, Andrea was back to normal except for one thing. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself for having wasted a beautiful day in June in maudlin self-denouncement and angry resentment of Keith. Ignoring church services and friends’ telephone calls were things she just didn’t do, and there were messages on her voice mail to remind her of yesterday’s outlandishly childish behavior.
She did her running with a determined, almost grim expression on that sunny Monday morning, even while enjoying the diamond-like sparkle of dew on grass and flowers, and the fresh air. Running was one of her greatest pleasures and she was not going to allow Keith Owens to destroy the contentment of her daily routines. There was no reason ever to see him again, except by the whims of chance. Should another occasion such as the charity ball arise she would simply refuse to participate.
Andrea
