Once a cop, always a cop, and I miss the job like crazy.”
“Wait,” he objected. “You can’t do that. I’ll be glad to pay.”
“No you won’t,” I told him. “Your hands are more than full right now. My son and daughter-in-law are expecting a baby of their own in a couple of months. I’ve been helping Scott get the nursery ready. By now they’ve spent a small fortune accumulating necessary baby gear, and you’ll need to do the same. So spend whatever you would have paid me on outfitting Athena’s nursery. If she ever asks, you can tell her the decor came from one of her grandmother’s old friends.”
“Really?” he managed, choking out the word. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” I told him, “and here’s another thing. Do you remember where I lived back then?”
“Vaguely,” he answered. “It was a penthouse in some fancy condo building downtown. Why?”
I doubted he remembered the exact address of Belltown Terrace, but since he and Jasmine had stayed there with me for a week or two while the homicide and drug-dealing investigations had been winding down, he had the general idea.
“Mel and I still own it,” I told him. “We go there sometimes for weekend getaways, but most of the time it sits empty. You and Athena are welcome to stay there for as long as you need.”
“For free?” he asked.
“For free,” I repeated.
I’d like to think that I’m the kind of person who would have offered him shelter under any circumstances, but in view of the fact that the infant in his care might turn out to be my own biological granddaughter, it was mandatory, especially since the cheapest digs in town—and his only viable alternative—would have been one of those by-the-hour motels on Highway 99.
“But that’s too kind,” he objected. “I couldn’t possibly take advantage of you like that.”
“You can and you will,” I told him, handing him my card. “When you get back to your hotel, send a text to my cell-phone number. That way I’ll be able to get a hold of you. Go ahead and stay there tonight. That’ll give me time enough to sort out some arrangements. Tomorrow I’ll come to town to start looking for Naomi. I’ll also help you and Athena get settled into your new digs.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, slipping the card into his pocket.
And that was all it took. From there on out, it was a done deal.
Chapter 3
ALAN AND ATHENA PACKED UP AND LEFT A SHORT TIME later. It was far enough into the afternoon that I expected they’d be caught up in Boeing traffic leaving Everett and heading south into Seattle, but I didn’t need to burden the poor man with any more bad news. When he caught up with the traffic mess, he’d be able to deal with it without having agonized about it in advance.
The morning chill and rain had given way to sunshine, so I leashed Lucy and the two of us went out for our customary walk down to the village center and back. Fairhaven had been a boomtown back in the late 1880s. In those days it was a busy harbor serving both fishing fleets and timber companies. Now all that remains of its once-healthy shipping industry is the fact that it serves as the terminus of the Alaska Marine Highway Ferry. That’s the official name, but around here most people refer to it as the “Alaskan Ferry.”
One of Fairhaven’s earliest and most colorful settlers, the guy who gave the village its name, was a canny wheeler-dealer and storyteller named Dirty Dan Harris. Eventually he was swindled out of both his wealth and his properties by a pair of low-down schemers, a physician and wife—Dr. A. S. and Mattie Shorb. These days the only remaining trace of Dirty Dan in town is a restaurant bearing his name. It’s a steak-and-chop kind of joint and one of Mel’s and my perennial favorites.
When Lucy and I returned from our walk, I took the first tentative steps in my search for Naomi Dale by placing a call to my son. Following in his father’s footsteps, Scotty works for Seattle PD these days in what’s known as the TEU—the Tactical Electronics Unit. It’s his dream job, one that combines his lifelong ambition of becoming a cop with the engineering and high-tech skills he developed and honed while earning a degree in electrical engineering.
“Hey, Pop,” he said when he answered. “What