Page 15 of Hook, Line and Mystery

CHAPTER8

KIT

Kit paused at the threshold of the marine research center, his fingertips grazing the cool metal of the door handle. The center belonged to him, and him alone. Although he often worked for the Department of Marine Resources, he was not their employee. The center’s structure stood solid and familiar, its walls containing a world he revered—a sanctum where science and sea mingled in harmonious existence. Here, amid the soft murmur of filter systems and the faint aroma of saltwater, he found solace, a place to lose himself in marine life.

Beside him, Abby’s presence was like a new current in these waters. He had felt and carried her presence so strongly all day that when he realized she had joined him, he wasn’t all that surprised. She leaned forward slightly, her tawny hair brushing his shoulder as she absorbed the sight of the building that held so much of his essence. Her gaze roamed over the façade, admiration kindling in her eyes, their green depths reflecting the sky just moments before dusk.

“Quite the fortress you have here,” she said, her voice carrying a note of respect and humor that resonated with him.

The corners of Kit’s mouth lifted fractionally, pride warming his soul even as he felt the bittersweet sting of memories. Clara had walked through this same doorway with him, her laughter echoing off the walls, her dreams interweaving with his until they were indistinguishable from one another.

“Built it to last.” His hand finally turned the handle, allowing them entry into his research sanctuary.

Abby stepped inside, her interest obvious as she peered into the nearest tank which held a mixture of corals and fish. Kit watched, a silent observer, as her fingers hovered millimeters from the glass, delicate and hesitant.

“Everything in these tanks has its own story,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the vibrant ecosystem contained within the confines of reinforced acrylic. “They’re pieces of a puzzle we’re still trying to understand.”

Her head tilted, Abby’s lips parted in an unspoken question, but she remained silent, allowing him to guide her further into his world. They moved between the tanks, the blue light painting their skin in ethereal hues, and Kit sensed a communion unfolding between them.

“I hope I’m not intruding. I spent some time at the library and thought I’d just stop by.”

“Not at all. Welcome to my world,” he said, his voice steady.

The center was a hive of marine life, tanks lining the walls, each a window into an underwater realm. He watched her face as Abby realized that part of the center had been built into the cliff and that some of the tanks weren’t tanks at all, but rather heavy, impenetrable windows of acrylic that allowed people to stare into the sea itself. As far as he knew, there was nothing else like it.

“It’s amazing, Kit. I had no idea,” she said, her voice filled with genuine awe.

He led her through the aisles. With each step, he allowed her to share part of himself that he rarely revealed to anyone. “This is where I spend most of my time.” Kit gestured towards a tank teeming with fish. “They’re not as pretty or as colorful as the fish you’ll find in other research centers or exhibition halls, but those are mostly tropical fish. In case you missed it, Maine isn’t exactly tropical.”

He glanced at the photograph pinned to a bulletin board, a snapshot of Clara—her smile eternal and unwavering. It was as if she approved, as if she understood that life, like the tides, brought change and new beginnings. Kit felt the weight of the past lessen, its grip easing as he allowed himself this moment of connection with Abby.

“Seems like each day brings a new discovery,” Abby said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably around them.

“Discovery is what keeps us moving forward.” His voice was steady, though his heart thrummed a rhythm akin to the gentle sway of seaweed in the current.

She nodded, a strand of hair falling across her face. Instinctively, Kit reached out, tucking the errant lock behind her ear. The contact was brief but electric, charged with the unspoken words and emotions swirling between them, as potent and unpredictable as the ocean itself.

“Keeps us hopeful, too,” she added, her gaze meeting his and holding it—a silent acknowledgment of the undercurrents pulling them closer, a dance as old and profound as the rhythm of the sea.

“This here,” Kit said, pausing in front of a large tank, “is where we study the behavioral patterns of local marine life. Comprehending their habits helps us protect them better.” His hand hovered over the glass, a silent acknowledgment of the life teeming within.

Abby leaned in, her eyes watching the fish. “It’s incredible, Kit. I had no idea the balance was so delicate. You know I thought I was doing my part making sure plastics didn’t get into the sea and that fishermen were harvesting fish in a sustainable manner but seeing it like this makes me wonder if any of us are doing enough.”

Kit’s expression hardened slightly as he turned to a display about the local ecosystem. “Unfortunately, it’s that very balance that’s being threatened. The illegal lobster poaching we’ve been seeing lately—it’s not just an economic issue, it’s an environmental one.” His words carried a weight, a resonance of something more than just professional concern.

Abby’s gaze met his, a softness in her eyes. “I can see how much this means to you. It’s not just about the science, is it? It’s about preserving a way of life.”

He nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Voicing his concerns to Abby, sharing this burden that had been solely his for so long, felt unexpectedly freeing. “Clara—you know she was my wife, right? Well, she died a few years back. We dreamed of making a real difference, of leaving the world a bit better than we found it. This,” he gestured around the center, “was a part of that dream.”

Abby reached out, her hand lightly touching his arm. “Youaremaking a difference, Kit. Clara would have been proud.”

He watched her with a sense of pride mingled with something more tender, an emotion he couldn’t quite label. Her gaze drank in the ever-changing dance of the fish, the sway of the underwater plants, the delicate balance of an ecosystem to which he’d dedicated his life. In her eyes, he saw reflected not just the beauty of this place but also the depth of his own passion for it—a mirror to his soul; a mirror that Clara had once held.

Kit moved closer to a tank where a school of fish that looked more prehistoric than colorful darted among the corals. He pointed to the flurry of different species, explaining their social behaviors and their importance to the reef, to each other, and to the ecosystem as a whole, all the while acutely aware of Abby’s presence beside him. She leaned forward, her forehead nearly touching the glass, utterly absorbed.

“Each one has its part to play,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Abby turned toward him, her green eyes seeking his blue ones, a silent connection igniting in the air between them. There was an acknowledgment there, a shared passion that went beyond words. They were two souls brought together by serendipity, now bound by a common thread of a mystery waiting to be solved, of justice waiting to be served and a burgeoning desire to unravel the secrets of both the heart and the sea.

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