At the very end of the boardwalk sat the town’s largest hotel, the Eagle’s Nest Resort and Spa. Just before that was the deep harbor dock where the cruise ships tied up. It was empty, and would be for the rest of the winter, unless an oil tanker needed to come in for repairs.
With the Northern Princess back at sea, was there any way to check if anyone else besides Lulu had missed the departure? That might tell them if her pursuer was still in town.
He took out his phone and called Harris Badger. Maya’s father was a retired Coastie and still maintained solid connections with his old shipmates.
“Tristan here,” he told the man when he answered. “Is there any way to get a cruise ship to answer questions about their passenger manifest?”
“Not too likely. You’d have to get a warrant, would be my guess. They keep that information pretty tight. But it never came up when I was running the post. We never had any problem with the cruise ships. What’s going on?”
“Oh, I’m sure Maya will reach out if it comes to anything.”
“All right then. I’ll wait for her call. How’re you doing?”
For a moment, Tristan couldn’t quite come up with an answer. “Fine, I guess. Head’s doing better.”
“Heard you had a good season.”
“Yes, sir. Despite all odds.”
“Well, don’t be afraid to reach out if things are hard. It’s hard coming back from an event like what happened to you. I know firsthand.”
Harris had recently undergone heart surgery, so he probably did understand. Except that Harris was in his seventies, while Tristan was thirty-two and in his goddamn prime. So in that way, it was nothing alike. “Yeah. Thanks.” Another thought struck him. “Mr. Badger, did you ever consider running for mayor? You were the acting police chief for a while, weren’t you? And the commander of a Coast Guard station? You’re an experienced leader. Why not go for mayor?”
A teasing note entered Harris’ voice. “You getting cold feet, boy?”
“No.” His feet had never really been warm, so the phrase didn’t apply. “I just think you’d be a good choice.”
“Maybe, but I don’t need that kind of responsibility. I’m getting married, and I don’t want to be the boss of my own daughter. Besides, you know what they say. Heavy lies the crown. Or the veto pen, as the case may be.”
They both chuckled. “Point taken. If you change your mind, though, I’d be tempted to clear the field for you.”
“Mighty kind of you, but if I change my mind, I’d be the frontrunner before you could say ‘come to order.’”
Tristan laughed. “No doubt, no doubt.”
He ended the call and transferred his wet laundry to the clothes dryer. Once it was dry, it could sit there until he made it back up here. Grabbing his duffel, he stuffed his paperwork inside along with his clothes, then decided to make one more call.
“Hey Toni,” he said when his sister came on the line. “Are you with the trespasser?”
“If you’re referring to your new campaign manager, yes.”
Tristan groaned silently. Apparently they’d decided to stick with his ridiculous on-the-fly cover story. Its only real benefit was that it was consistent with what he’d told Trixie. Other than that, it was unbelievable, ridiculous, and guaranteed to be embarrassing for him. Running for mayor felt awkward enough, but now he’d have to act like he knew what he was doing.
“Is there anything she might need from the house? I’m here now but I’m about to leave.”
“Let me check.” Toni disappeared for a brief moment, then Lulu came on the line.
“Hullo there, Tristan.”
A quick thrill when through him at the sound of her breezy voice. Even though he’d known her for less than a day, it felt oddly familiar.
“Hey, how’s it going with my sister? Is she behaving herself?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
“Right. Dumb question. I’m at my house right now. Is there anything you might need from here? Toothbrush, pillow, that sort of thing?”
“You have a house? I thought you lived on your boat.”
He pulled his phone away from his face and frowned at it, before continuing on. “Of course I don’t live on my boat. I am at the moment because…eh, doesn’t matter.”
“Well, don’t worry about me, I’ve got everything I need. Toni helped me find the perfect Lost Harbor campaign manager uniform. I’m ready to get to work.”
“So you decided to stick with that bonehead idea of mine?”
“Yes, for lack of a better one. We decided that if Mr. Bad Guy is asking around town about someone from the cruise ship, no one will think to mention a campaign manager.”
“I suppose that’s right, but that doesn’t mean you have to actually be a campaign manager. You can fake it.”
“Oh darling, I will most certainly be faking it. But I’m also going to spend some time online at the library researching how to run a good campaign. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“It’s really not—”
But Lulu disappeared at that point and Toni came back on the phone. “We’re also dying her hair. Extra safety precaution.”
“Good thinking.” What color was her hair? Perhaps a strawberry blond? He didn’t quite remember, mostly because he’d been preoccupied with her legs in those fishnets. Not that he was about to admit that. “Well, I’ll see you two later.”
“Dinner with me and Bash,” she said. “That’s an order.”
“Aye, Captain. Wait, I can’t. I have the debate. Jesus, I nearly forgot. I’ll just stop at the Brewery and have some of Alastair’s special, whatever it is.”
“Then maybe we’ll see you there. I’m trying to stick to edge-of-town places, and nothing’s more edge-of-town than the lighthouse.”
The Lighthouse Brewery and Museum was located a few miles outside the town borders, on a historic piece of property that now belonged to Chrissie Yates, who happened to be his old high school girlfriend. He used to ride his bike out there to see her, and occasionally had taken the water route in his father’s Zodiac. Now it was no longer just a homestead, but a thriving business.
And Chrissie was no longer his girlfriend. She was now engaged to Dr. Ian Finnegan, who happened to be the neurosurgeon who had operated on Tristan.
Sometimes he wondered if the breakup with Chrissie was where his life had gone wrong. He’d rebounded into marriage, then focused on establishing himself as a fishing captain, and there went his marriage and…
He shook off the trip down memory lane.
“More good thinking. Thanks, Toni. Has she seen any sign of this mystery baddie?”
“No.” From the lack of detail, he figured she couldn’t really say more in front of Lulu. “But she did get a marriage proposal from Pedro Davila.”
The weirdest sort of sensation shot through his chest. Was it…jealousy? For fuck’s sake, that would be ridiculous. Not only was Lulu nothing but an inconvenience to him, but he didn’t get jealous.
Julie had always been the jealous one—not of any woman, but of the Desperado.