Page 25 of Hook, Line and Mystery

“Boss?”

“It doesn’t matter. Make sure you get as much shipped out tonight as you can…”

“We were going home.”

“I don’t care. Get everything packed up. We’re going to need to change locations. Do you hear me? You need to be well away before dawn.”

“Okay, Boss. I hear you.” The poacher ended the call. “I guess you heard him. We get as many of these lobsters ready for shipment as we have the shipping containers for. Then pack up everything. One of you will take the haul up to the plane and the rest of us will wait until we hear from the boss.”

The men grumbled but went back to work. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

ABBY

The next morning, the February wind was a wild symphony, howling around the solitary embrace of the lighthouse at Badger’s Drift. Abby, standing beside Kit, felt the vibrations of the sea’s turmoil beneath her feet, as if it echoed the tempest within her own heart. The lighthouse, an ivory sentinel against the backdrop of a slate-gray sky, loomed above them. Its enduring presence, a beacon of guidance amidst the roiling waves, seemed to Abby the perfect confidante for the confession that pressed against her lips.

“Kit,” she said, her voice barely rising above the sound of the ocean, “I’ve spent so much time looking out at that horizon, imagining different futures...” She gestured towards where the water kissed the sky, her fingers trembling like the surface of the sea.

“Life’s a bit like that horizon, isn’t it?” Kit said, his gaze following her hand. “Always moving, always just out of reach.”

“Except some things are closer than they appear.” Abby felt courage replacing her fear. She turned to face him fully now, the lighthouse casting its stoic shadow over them. “Like how I feel about you.”

He blinked, as if her words were droplets of rain he hadn’t expected and looked at her with newfound scrutiny. “And how’s that, Abby?”

“Being here, with you, has been the one constant in a sea of change.” Her voice quivered. “You’ve become more than a friend, Kit. You’re a part of my... my...”

“What, Abby?” His voice was soft, a gentle nudge urging her on.

“Part of my heart.” Her green eyes locked onto his blue ones, seeking an anchor in their depths.

There was a pause, heavy with the weight of her admission, filled only by the sound of the relentless waves and the distant call of seagulls. Kit stepped closer, and Abby could feel the warmth of him cutting through the chill, like sunlight slashing through the clouds.

“That’s so sweet of you to say,” he said softly, smiling as he turned her to face him. “I shouldn’t have said that. You were direct and honest, and I teased you. Forgive me?” She nodded. “You’ve become more than just a part of my heart, Abby. I’m in love with you. I know it may seem sudden and…”

“I love you, too,” she said in a rush, cutting him off and grateful that he’d been willing to say it first. “I should have just said that.”

“That’s a big word, especially when dealing with the guy who has been the town’s tragic widower…”

“Not to mention the ruggedly handsome one,” she teased.

“Exactly,” he said leaning down to kiss her, his lips lingering to take a full taste.

There was something in his tone, a rugged, raw emotion, that made her feel safe and yet sent shivers of desire through her veins. He turned, linking their hands. Their shoulders touched as she leaned into him, and she welcomed his solidity. It was a profound moment of honesty, her raw emotions laid bare beneath the watchful eye of the lighthouse.

“Let’s take a walk,” Kit said, leading her toward the beach.

Abby nodded, and without another word, they descended towards the rocky shores near the Lighthouse Bed & Breakfast. As they strolled along the beach, Abby noticed unusual markings in the sand, patterns that seemed deliberate, leading towards what seemed to be a hidden cove. A frown creased her forehead, and an instinctual prickle ran up her spine.

“Look at that,” she said, pointing.

Kit shook his head. “That shouldn’t be here.”

She followed the trail, Kit at her side, until they came upon several hidden traps submerged in a watery alcove that would be difficult to see casually from any angle.

“These aren’t common in this area.” Kit tugged one of the lobster pots from the surf. “These aren’t at all like any of the local fishermen use.”

“Could they be personal traps? You know, not commercial ones?”

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