“How many would you say you’ve given out?” Ramirez asked.
“Over the five years I’ve owned this place?” Paul stopped and looked up at a stuffed harbor seal above his head. “Maybe fifty.”
Lana rubbed her temple. “So that life jacket could have come from anywhere.” She leaned across the desk. “Paul, where were you last weekend?”
Nicoletti twisted around in his camping chair. “Ma’am, this really isn’t any of your business.”
Paul kept his eyes fixed on Lana. “I already told the detectives,” he said softly. “It’s private.”
Lana leaned toward him and matched his tone. “Someone is dead, Paul. I don’t think that’s an acceptable answer at this stage.” They were almost whispering. It was as if she had cast a line in his direction, dragging his words out.
Nicoletti was about to barge in, but Ramirez knocked him back with a stare. The detective sank into his camping chair, his torso trapped in orange canvas.
“Jack told me you were with a woman, Paul.” Lana let a small pout cross her lips. “Who was she?”
Paul flushed. His hand shot up and back through his shaggy hair. “Just a sailor. Passing through.”
“You took her out? To the yacht club?”
“We went out on her boat. Saturday. I gave her a moonlight tour.”
“And a sunrise tour Sunday as well?”
Paul let out a low chuckle.
“Who was she, Paul?”
He looked over Lana’s left shoulder toward the tide chart on the wall, his eyes unfocused. “Tatiana,” he said dreamily.
Ramirez swallowed a snort. Nicoletti’s voice broke the spell. “Do you have contact information for this Tatiana?” he demanded.
Paul blinked and turned toward the older man. “I . . . uh, it was just a onetime deal.”
Nicoletti insisted. “Last name?”
Paul shook his head.
“She had a boat docked at the marina?”
“A seventy-footer. She was anchored out in the ocean, over by the old fuel dock they decommissioned last year.”
Ramirez grimaced. “Shit.”
Nicoletti looked at her.
“They don’t require registration for boats that drop anchor out there.”
Nicoletti turned back to Paul. “Did anyone see you with this Tatiana?”
“Sorry, man. It was just us, the dolphins, and the deep blue forever.”
Paul’s unkempt hair flopped over one eye. He struck Lana as a man-child, someone who could flash hot or cold but preferred to spend his time floating in a warm bath. What kind of secrets could he be hiding?
Before she had enough time to seriously contemplate the possibilities, the detectives ended their interview. They’d extracted a promise from Paul that he’d stay in the area, that he wouldn’t go out on any more strange boats with strange women without at least getting their phone number, and that he’d stop handing out old life jackets like candy. They told him he was cleared to reopen for business that Sunday, as long as he agreed to let Detective Ramirez come that day to observe the Kayak Shack in action.
Ramirez looked less than thrilled when her partner volunteered her for this assignment. She eyed the boats hanging overhead, patting her tight bun as if the wind had already started wreaking havoc on her hair.
“What if you accompany Jacqueline on her tours on Sunday?” Lana suggested. She curled a strand of wig behind her ear. “She’s Paul’s best guide. You’ll see how safe she is, how responsible. And I’m sure she’d feel more comfortable with an officer like you in her boat.”
“If you want, I can hook you up with a sweet discount on a new wet suit,” Paul said, motioning to a rack of hot-pink neoprene.
Ramirez pulled her blazer tight around her waist. “I’m good, thank you. See you Sunday.”
The detectives extracted themselves from their camping chairs, Nicoletti leaving his flipped on its side like a wounded animal.
“Wait,” Lana said, when they got to the door. “I’m sorry to impose, but could you give me a ride home?”
Everyone looked at her, the detectives in surprise, Paul in cool assessment.
“Only if you’re leaving now; I thought it might be easier for everyone.” Lana turned to Paul. “I’m sure you have work to do.” He nodded, saying nothing.
Ramirez gave her jacket a tug. “Fine. But no more questions about the case.”
“Of course.” All Lana wanted was a safe place to think about what had happened. And getting into Paul’s car alone no longer felt like the best option.