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More like he took us to watch him fish. I don’t remember catching a single bass in that lake. Or if I did, he made me throw them all back for being too small. But suddenly I remembered—there had been a grand-looking hotel peeking from the trees when we were down on the lake. It had a dock, with rich-looking people in fancy clothes stepping off into paddle wheelers. When Dad saw we’d drifted too close one time he’d scowled and rowed us hard back to the quiet, weedy end of the lake.

“Fabulous fishing up there and the hotel’s a real stunner. Apparently, it’s going to be on the market soon, and Haverford Developments is thinking of putting in an offer.”

Charles Haverford was a well-respected developer who did business all over Jewel Lakes County. And apparently across state lines too. But why was Fred interested? Unless he was planning on going into some kind of partnership with Charles? Which would be a conflict of interest given he led development approvals here at City Hall.

“I’d like you to go up and do a little reconnaissance at Rolling Hills. I have a standing reservation in the presidential suite.”

“What, you want me to stay at the resort?” That twinge turned to something stronger. Never mind his conflict, if he was considering developing here and wanted me onside, it would be so I could sway the future Mayor.

Or better yet in his eyes,bethe future mayor.

“Don’t worry, it’s the first room they renovated,” he said. “Only the second wing is stalled.”

“That’s not the problem,” I said. “Fred, I can’t do recon for your business.” It was ludicrous that he was even asking me.

Fred waved me away. “It’s not about that. You’re on the tourism portfolio, aren’t you? We won’t have any public investment into Haverford’s application, naturally. But I know our town could desperately use a focal point for tourism.”

“What about your company? Are you collaborating with Charles?”

Fred lifted his eyebrow once more. “Now Will, that wouldn’t be permitted so long as I’m mayor.”

It wasn’t really an answer, but still, I relaxed just slightly. Recon for the tourism portfolio could be good. It was gorgeous here, but we saw a definite drop in tourism over the winter months.

“A resort like that could be the jewel in Jewel Lakes, if you will,” Fred said, squinting as if peering at an imaginary tourism pamphlet before him.

I wondered if he’d come up with that on his own, or if Charles had mentioned it and he’d run with it.

“In any case, Charles has some land in mind. He’d like to put in an application the moment a sale closes. It’s a bit of a controversial property, there’s some conservation nonsense on a portion of it, so I want us to be ready with evidence that a resort of that nature would be a benefit to this community.”

I lifted an eyebrow at ‘conservation nonsense’. “Fred, preserving the natural elements of Jewel Lakes is important. Critical, really, not just for tourism. For the whole community. For wildlife. For the environment.”

“Of course. We’ll figure that all out when we come to it.”

“When Charles comes to it, you mean.”

“Precisely. Besides,” he pointed a beefy finger at me, “as you’ve just demonstrated, you deserve a thank-you for your care of this community. You’ve been running the show here really. Our finance director told us we made a tidy sum in event sales this past summer, and that, along with whatever we make on the Christmas fair next month, should be enough to fund a couple of artsy-fartsy grants.”

Classic Fred.

I wasn’t convinced it was a thank-you so much as more buttering me up. I was about to say so when he said, “Besides, a man like you would appreciate the resort’s finer appointments.”

Once again, I had a vision of staying in a well-appointed hotel room, kicking back next to a roaring fire. A gorgeous, curly-haired woman patting the bed next to her. Naked.

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, cutting off those thoughts.

But the dark cloud that had been hanging around me lifted, just a little. It would be relaxing to go up there on one of the weekends when Remy was at her mother’s.

Maybe that was the problem. Not that I was disappointed Michelle hadn’t called, but that I needed a break. A solo getaway, with a good bottle of wine. A rare steak. I was warming up to the idea of the presidential suite, no matter what Fred’s motives.

“When were you thinking?” I asked.

“How about seeing it in full swing? New Year’s Eve?”

“Your standing reservation is still good over New Year’s?”

“I would go myself but the missus has booked us flights to Hawaii. Speaking of which, you have a lady friend you might want to take?” Fred waggled his eyebrows. “A married man is more electable, they say.”

Suddenly my mood nose-dived once more.