“Yes, and with good reason. After all, it isn’t just himself he has to protect this time around. He’s got Carson to consider, too.”
Hannah hesitated a moment. “Speaking of children….”
Okay, so she’d over overreacted.
So sue me, Octavia thought.
She pulled into the parking lot at the end of the row of shops and switched off the engine. A woman had a right to be angry when she surfaced after a bout of mind-bending sex and discovered that the man with whom she had just shared said mind-bending sex was heading for the door.
The least he could have done was make a bigger show of regretting the unseemly haste of his departure. And how dare he accuse her of giving him The Talk? All right, she had mentioned leaving town at the end of the summer once or twice. That was different.
She got out of the car, dropped the keys into her purse, and slammed the door shut. She was feeling short of both temper and patience, and more than willing to blame everything on Nick this morning. Her emotions were so mixed up and so unstable today that she knew she could not begin to sort them out.
One thing was indisputable, however. She was well aware that she had no one to blame but herself for this untenable situation and that, of course, only made the mess all the more irritating. She had known what she was getting into when she made the decision to take some chances with Hardhearted Harte.
It occurred to her that, in addition to feeling pissed off, she also felt strong and decisive this morning. Energetic. Bold. Powerful. Gutsy.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, struck by that realization.
Everything seemed sharper and clearer today. She was intensely aware of the bright sun and the glare of the light on the bay. She was eager to open the gallery and frame the rest of the children’s pictures.
Yes, she was mad as hell at Nick Harte, but even the anger felt good—cleansing in some weird way that she could not explain.
She was almost at the door of the gallery when she belatedly remembered Nick’s flashlight. She had left it in the backseat.
With a groan, she turned around and went back to the parking lot to retrieve it. This time she made herself close the car door very gently.
Doing the mature thing.
The power had not failed in the heart of Eclipse Bay, she noticed. The lights inside the gallery worked when she flipped the switch and the security system was still functional. She punched in the code to disarm it and went around the counter to open the door of the back room.
The instant she stepped inside she knew that something was wrong.
It took her a couple of seconds to focus on what it was that seemed different. Then it hit her.
The Upsall was gone.
He could not figure out where things had gone wrong last night.
He was still brooding over the disastrous ending to what had been a great evening when he pulled into the slot next to Octavia’s little white compact the next morning and turned off the engine.
“Hey, look,” Carson said excitedly from the backseat. “A police car.”
Nick turned his head and frowned when he saw the familiar logo of Eclipse Bay’s tiny police department emblazoned on the door of an SUV parked at the curb. “That’s Chief Valentine’s vehicle. Probably had some problems with the security systems in the shops because of the storm.”
“Here comes A.Z.,” Carson added.
Nick got out of the BMW and watched Arizona park her pickup while Carson scrambled out of the rear seat. When she climbed from the truck and started toward them, he raised a hand in greeting.
“’Morning, A.Z.,” Nick said.
Carson waved. “Hi, A.Z.”
“’Morning, you two.” Beneath the rakish tilt of her military beret, Arizona’s expression was that of a battlefield commander readying herself for action. “Expect you already heard we got us some trouble here.”
“Problems with the storm last night?” Nick asked.
“Reckon you could say that. Just got a call from Octavia. Looks like the gang up at the institute used the storm as cover to hit us last night.”
“Come again?”
Arizona angled her head toward Sean’s vehicle. “I see Valentine is on the job, but I doubt that he’ll be able to accomplish much. The institute has him and every other official here in town completely bamboozled.”
Another car pulled into the lot. Virgil Nash got out and started toward them.
“Good morning, Nick. Carson.” Virgil looked at Arizona. “Is Photon here yet?”
“Told him to stay at the bakery and watch things there. The action here last night might be a calculated attempt to draw our attention away from Project Log Book so that they can get at the computer.”
Out of long habit, Nick automatically sorted through Arizona’s customary conspiracy spin on the situation to get to the single grain of truth at the center.
“What action?” he said abruptly. “Did something happen here last night?”
Arizona angled her chin. “The institute crowd broke into the gallery and snatched our Upsall.”
Nick glanced at Virgil for clarification.
Virgil did not look particularly reassuring. “I got a call, too. That’s why I’m here. Looks like the Upsall’s gone.”
“Octavia.” Nick grabbed Carson’s hand and started toward the shop.
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
“Don’t worry,” Virgil called after them. “Octavia’s fine. The painting was gone when she arrived this morning.”
Nick paid no attention. He kept going toward the shop, moving so swiftly that Carson had to run to keep up with him.
“Is Octavia okay, Dad?” Carson asked anxiously.
They reached the open door of Bright Visions at that moment. Nick halted at the sight of Octavia inside. The first thing he noticed was that she wasn’t wearing one of her usual icy-pale fairy queen dresses today. Instead she was dressed in a short jumper in a bright shade of purple. The golden-yellow boatneck tee shirt she wore underneath the dress had sleeves that came to her elbows. There was a wide amber bracelet on her wrist and more amber at her wrists and throat.
When she moved one hand in a small gesture, he noticed that she had painted her nails with a vivid crimson polish that sparkled in the morning light. He looked down and saw her bare toes peeking out from under the red leather tops of a pair of sexy, backless slides. She’d painted her toenails, too. Must have gotten up early, he thought. But then, he’d rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn himself, unable to sleep after a nearly sleepless night.
Octavia looked at him. There was fire in her eyes.
“Yeah,” Nick said softly to Carson. “Octavia’s okay.”
Sean Valentine looked up from the notes he was making on a pad. He gave Nick a brief, friendly nod. “Morning, Harte.” His somber face lightened when he caught sight of Carson. “Hey, there, Carson. How are you doing today?”
“Hey, there, Chief Valentine. I’m fine,” Carson declared with delight.
Kids always responded to Sean, Nick reflected. He was not certain why. Valentine was no Officer Friendly. He carried a lot of wear and tear on his face. It was true that Sean did project a calm, professional competence, but he always looked as if he expected bad news. Children seemed to look right past the grim stuff and see something else beneath the surface, something they liked and trusted.
Nick noticed that Octavia was also watching Sean greet Carson. There was a thoughtful, reflective look on her face as though she, too, saw something in Valentine that she liked and trusted.
When she switched her gaze to Nick, however, the approval disappeared instantly from her expression.
What he got was cool appraisal. She was looking at him the way she might examine a painting that did not quite measure up to her standards.
Oh, shit. Talk about worst-case scenarios. This was bad. Very, very bad.
“Hello, Nick,” she said without inflection. But when she switched her attention to Carson, the war
mth returned to her voice. “Good morning, Carson. I like that shirt.”
Carson beamed. He glanced down at the dark-green dinosaur emblazoned on his sweatshirt. “Thanks. It’s a velociraptor. Dad bought it for me.”
“I see.”
“A velociraptor can rip you to shreds in seconds,” Carson said cheerfully.
Octavia nodded. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Nick met Sean’s eyes. “What’s going on here?”
“Octavia says that the painting Old Man Thurgarton left to A.Z. and Nash and the Heralds has disappeared.” Sean rubbed the back of his neck. “Kind of a mystery how it happened. Apparently it was locked up in the back room and the security alarm was set as usual.”
Arizona loomed in the doorway. “Getting past a standard security system would be child’s play for that gang up at the institute. No offense, Carson.”
“Okay,” Carson said, clearly not offended.
Sean heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t think we can blame anyone at the institute, A.Z. I know you’re convinced that those folks up there are bent on subverting the government and running the world from their secret headquarters here in Eclipse Bay, but there’s just no good motive for them to steal a painting.”
“You want motive?” Arizona stalked toward the counter. “I’ll give you motive. They know me and the Heralds plan to use our share of the profits from the sale of that picture to help finance our investigations. The last thing that crowd wants is for us to be able to expand the scope of our operations. If that ain’t motive, I don’t know what is.”
Virgil Nash came through the doorway and nodded politely at everyone. He turned to Octavia. “Was the Upsall the only painting that was stolen?”
“Yes,” Octavia said. “It was far and away the single most valuable picture here. Whoever took it must have known what he was doing.”
Nick studied the paintings hanging on the wall and then shook his head. “I don’t think you can assume that.”
They all stared at him.
“What do you mean?” Octavia demanded. “The average person would probably have been more attracted to some of the scenes of the bay. Or that one.” She swept out a hand to indicate the painting hanging behind her. “The watercolor with the gulls. To the untrained eye the Upsall looks dark and rather depressing.”
“Probably because it is dark and depressing,” Nick said.
She gave him a superior smile. “Which only goes to show how much you know about art, but that is neither here nor there.”
Sean raised his brows a little at her crisp tone, but he made no comment. Instead he looked at Nick with some curiosity. “What makes you say that whoever took the picture didn’t have to be an art expert?”
“The rumor that Thurgarton had left a valuable painting behind and that Octavia was going to get a second opinion on it was all over town by yesterday afternoon,” Nick said mildly. “It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out that she had it stored in the back room, and it would have been easy to recognize. Everyone was talking about how ugly it was.”
Octavia did not look pleased with that quick summary. She glared. “How do you explain the thief having a key and knowing the security code?”
Nick glanced at the door. “There are usually several duplicates of a key floating around. And when was the last time the code was changed?”
She drummed her crimson nails on the counter. “It hasn’t been changed since I had the Willis brothers install the system when I first opened the gallery.”
Virgil frowned. “You had an assistant working here for several months. She would have had the code and the key.”
“Of course,” Octavia said. “But I don’t think we can pin this theft on Noreen. She left town with her artist boyfriend last month, remember?”
Sean looked thoughtful. “Does anyone know where Noreen and the boyfriend are now?”
Octavia shook her head. “She just phoned in her resignation and took off. But now that you mention it, there’s, uh, something else.”
They all looked at her.
She grimaced. “A few days ago I came across a piece of paper with the code written on it taped inside one of the counter drawers. Noreen had trouble remembering it.”
“Which means a lot of people might have had access to that code,” Sean said. “Including the artist boyfriend.”
Arizona snorted. “Wastin’ your time, Valentine. This has the fingerprints of that bunch up at the institute all over it, I tell you.”
Sean flipped his notebook shut. “One thing’s for certain, Eclipse Bay isn’t exactly crawling with experienced, high-end art thieves, and we don’t have what you’d call a big market for stolen art, either. Whoever snatched the painting has probably already taken off for Portland or Seattle to try to unload it.”
“True.” Octavia slouched against the counter, looking very unhappy. “It would be the logical thing to do.”
“Our best hope is that the guy trips himself up when he goes to sell the Upsall,” Sean continued. “I’ll call some people I know in the Seattle and Portland police departments and tell them to keep a lookout for our missing picture.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” Octavia brightened. “I’ll contact a few friends in the art world, too, and make them aware that there’s a previously unknown Upsall floating around.”
“Good thought,” Sean said. He started toward the door. “I think that’s about all for now. I’ll check back later.”
“All right,” Octavia said. “Thanks, Sean.”
“Sure. See you, folks.”
A short chorus of goodbyes followed Sean out onto the sidewalk. So did Nick.
They walked together toward Sean’s vehicle.
“Something I can do for you, Harte?” Sean asked mildly.
“Just wanted to ask what you think really happened to that painting.”
Sean opened the door on the driver’s side and paused. “You want my best guess?”
“That would probably be the most helpful under the circumstances, yeah.”
“Past experience tells me that whoever stole the painting was probably closely connected to the situation. He knew the picture was valuable, he knew where it was stored, and he knew how to disarm the security system.”
“Which means he had access to the code and a key.”
“As you just pointed out, how hard would that be? Might not have even needed the key and code. That system the Willis brothers installed for Octavia is good enough for Eclipse Bay, but it isn’t exactly state-of-the-art.” Sean looked at the window of Bright Visions. “Wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to disarm it, especially in the middle of the night during a major storm when no one was around.”
Nick followed his gaze and shook his head in a flat negative. “Not A.Z. or Virgil.”
“No. Although I gotta tell you that in this situation, any out-of-town cop would be looking real hard at both of ’em. They both have motive. Why split the profits from the painting three ways when you can have the whole pie?”
Nick shrugged. “Guess I’d have to agree that to an outsider they’d both look a little mysterious.”
“Try damned suspicious. No one knows anything about either of them before they arrived in Eclipse Bay. I got curious a couple of years ago and did some digging, myself.”
Nick looked at him. “Learn anything?”
“Zilch. It’s like neither one of them existed before they came to this town.”
“For what it’s worth, there are some old rumors about them,” Nick said. “My grandfather told me once that he thinks Nash may have done some government intelligence work at one time, which could explain why his past has been wiped out of the records. And most folks assume that A.Z. assumed a new identity somewhere along the way because she’s so deep into her conspiracy theories. But neither of them are thieves. Rock-solid, upstanding citizens in their own weird ways.”
“I’m inclined to agree.”
“That leaves Photon and his happy little cre
w of bakers.”
“Yeah. And between you and me, that bunch is right at the top of my very short list.” Sean got behind the wheel and closed the door. He squinted a little against the morning sun. “I’m going to run some background checks on some of those Heralds. But keep that to yourself. I want to handle it quietly. If word gets out that the group is under suspicion, some of the locals might turn on ’em real fast.”
“I know. There are still a few folks around who think they’re running some kind of cult out of that bakery.”
“Think I’ll also track down Noreen Perkins and her new boyfriend and ask them a few questions, too.”
“Why? They aren’t even in town any longer.”
“Just being thorough.”
“Right. Catch you later.”
Sean put the SUV in gear and rolled off down the street.
Nick went back into Bright Visions. He stopped just inside. Octavia, Arizona, Virgil, and Carson were all looking at him with expectant expressions.
He surveyed the ring of interested faces. “Did I miss something?”
Carson could scarcely contain himself. “Wait’ll you hear A.Z.’s really cool idea, Dad.”
Nick managed, just barely, not to groan aloud. He caught Octavia’s attention, expecting a little understanding, maybe even some sympathy in spite of the tension between them. After all, everyone knew that any really cool idea that had been concocted by Arizona Snow was an accident waiting to happen.
But Octavia’s expression reflected zero commiseration. Whatever this really cool idea was, it was getting serious consideration from her.
In desperation, Nick turned to Virgil.
“Nothing to lose,” Virgil said, stroking his goatee.
“Only chance we’ve got and that’s a fact,” Arizona stated with satisfaction.
Nick surveyed each of them in turn. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
Octavia cleared her throat. “Virgil’s right. It probably won’t work, but it’s not like we have anything to lose. I say we go for it.”
“Yeah!” Carson cheered.
“What, exactly, are you all planning to go for?” Nick asked warily.