Octavia concentrated on removing the lid from her cup. She became aware of an acute silence. When she looked up she saw that both Gail and Jeremy were watching her with rapt attention.
“Something wrong?” she asked politely.
“Uh, no.” Jeremy raised his brows. “Just wondered why you weren’t a little more concerned about Nick, that’s all.”
“He looked fine last night when I saw him outside the police station.”
“I looked okay last night, too. Bruises take a while to color up. I figure he’s probably a real mess today.”
“He’s not,” she said shortly.
“You’re sure?”
“I saw him earlier.” Octavia dropped the lid into the trash bin.
“Earlier,” Jeremy repeated. “That would be earlier this morning?”
“Yes.” She took a tentative sip of the coffee. It was still a little too hot for comfort. She blew on the surface of the liquid a few times.
“Precisely how early this morning would that be?” Gail asked with great interest.
“I don’t recall the exact time. Why? Is it important?”
“Could be.” Gail exchanged glances with Jeremy. “Especially if it was, oh, say sometime around dawn or thereabouts.”
“That would be critical,” Jeremy agreed.
“And it would confirm the second tidbit of information I got this morning,” Gail added smoothly.
Octavia peered at each of them in turn. “Am I missing something here?”
“You can tell us, honey,” Gail answered. “We’re your friends.”
“Sure,” Jeremy said. “You can tell us everything.”
“Out with it,” Gail said. “We’re on pins and needles here. The suspense is killing us. Did Hardhearted Harte really spend the whole night with you last night? Was he actually there for breakfast? Did you or did you not break the curse?”
Too late Octavia recalled the second part of the Nick Harte legend. He always leaves before dawn. She felt herself turn red. “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Oh, gosh,” Gail said. “Both of the rumors I heard at the beauty shop are true. Nick got into that brawl because of you and then he spent the night with you. You’ve done it. You’ve broken the curse on Hardhearted Harte.”
Octavia choked on a mouthful of coffee. She sputtered and dabbed madly at her lips. “That’s what they’re saying at the beauty shop?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve never met anyone who broke a curse before,” Jeremy said. “How does it feel? Do you get a little rush when it happens? Or do you have to wait for results?”
“Yes, tell us every little detail,” Gail said.
“Hold it right there.” Octavia slapped the coffee cup down on the counter. Drops of coffee shot over the rim and splattered the wood surface. “Let’s get something straight. Apparently Nick is having fun telling people that he got into the brawl because I suggested he have a drink with you, Jeremy. Big joke. Ha ha.”
“Well—”
“Okay, okay, maybe it was my idea for you two to have a beer together and talk things over. But it’s quite a stretch to say that the bar fight was therefore my fault. I certainly never intended for Nick to take you to the Total Eclipse for that beer and chat.”
“Where else could a couple of guys go to talk over old times in this burg?” Gail asked innocently.
“You misunderstand, Octavia,” Jeremy said gently. “Nick’s not spreading the story that he got into the fight because of you. It’s all over town this morning because it’s the flat-out truth and everyone who was in the Total Eclipse last night knows it. There are witnesses. Lots and lots of them. They’re the ones who are doing the talking.”
“But all I did was suggest that you two have a drink.” Her voice was rising. That almost never happened. “It’s not fair to blame me.”
“There’s a little more to it than that,” Jeremy said.
“And what’s with this nonsense about breaking the curse?” She no longer cared that she was getting loud. “Are there witnesses to that, too?”
Nick appeared in the doorway at that moment, three coffee cups in his hands. He studied the trio in the gallery through the lenses of his dark glasses and appeared to make an executive decision.
“Maybe I should come back later.” He started to step back out onto the sidewalk.
Octavia rounded on him. “Don’t you dare leave. Get back in here right now. Do you hear me, Nick Harte?”
“Oh, yeah.” Nick went to the counter and set down the three cups. “I definitely hear you.”
She crossed her arms and faced the three of them. “Let’s try to get some clarity on this issue.”
“Damn.” Nick removed his dark glasses with obvious reluctance and dropped them into his pocket. “Do we have to do clarity? I hate the clarity thing.” He looked at the cup Gail held and the one that sat on the counter. “You’ve already got coffee.”
“I brought it,” Jeremy explained.
Nick glanced at him. “You look like hell.”
“Which is extremely unfair,” Jeremy said, “given that I was just an innocent bystander.”
“Innocent bystanders have a very high accident rate,” Nick informed him with an air of authority. “Look it up.”
“I’ll remember that. But, you know, you might want to show a little gratitude here, Harte. I’m the one who took that cue stick away from Dickhead before he could ram it where the sun don’t shine.”
Nick nodded. “I am, indeed, grateful for that. By the way, that reminds me. You mentioned True’s sidekick, Bonner, last night. Do you read my books?”
“What can I say? A divorced man has a lot of spare time on his hands.”
“Is that how you got the black eye?” Gail asked Jeremy. “Did Dickhead hit you with the pool cue?”
“Actually, it was a little more complicated than that,” Jeremy said.
“Excuse me,” Octavia said very loudly.
They all looked at her with polite expectation.
“As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” she went on, not even trying to lower her voice, “I want to know why everyone in town believes that I was the cause of that stupid bar fight last night.”
“Probably because, as I just told you, it’s true.” Jeremy took a swallow of coffee.
“It is not true,” she shot back.
“According to the ladies down at the beauty parlor, it is,” Gail offered. “That’s all anyone could talk about. That and the fact that Nick spent the night at your place, of course.”
Nick paused in the act of taking a sip of coffee. “Folks are discussing that, too?”
“With relish and zest,” Gail assured him.
“Huh.” He shrugged and drank more coffee.
Octavia threw up her hands. “Okay, so I suggested that you two have a drink together. How was I to know you’d be dumb enough to have that drink at the Total Eclipse?”
“It wasn’t the fact that Nick bought me a beer that started the fight,” Jeremy said with grave precision. “The fight started when Mean Eugene announced to the entire bar that you had bestowed your favors upon Nick for certain agenda-driven reasons.”
She stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“Eugene implied that you had commenced an affair with Nick, here, with the goal of causing him to become so bemused and befuddled that he would be unable to think clearly. The net result would be that our intrepid investigator would be unable to detect that you were the person most likely to have stolen the Upsall.”
Octavia made it to the end of the counter and grabbed hold of it to steady herself. “Good lord.”
“Of course, Eugene didn’t put it in precisely those words.” Jeremy glanced at Nick for confirmation. “Don’t think he used the words bemused and befuddled, did he?”
“No,” Nick said. “I believe what Eugene said was that Octavia was screwing me senseless.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Don
’t think he said senseless, either. Maybe it was screwing your brains out.”
“Right.” Nick raised a cup in a small salute. “That was it. He said that Octavia was screwing my brains out in an effort to distract me from my investigation.”
Jeremy turned to Octavia. “There was also some question about the naturalness of your red hair. Naturally, Nick could not let Eugene and Dickhead get away with talking about a lady in such crude terms. Hence the bar brawl.”
Octavia clutched the counter, feeling dazed and disoriented. She looked at Nick, hoping he would tell her it was all just a big joke. “The brawl really did start because of me?”
“Don’t worry about the gossip,” Nick said, dismissing the entire event with another shrug. “It’ll blow over in a few days.”
“Are you kidding?” Jeremy asked. “Folks around here still talk about the big fight between your grandfather and Mitchell Madison that took place outside of Fulton’s decades ago. What makes you think that forty or fifty years from now, they won’t be telling the story of what happened last night at the Total Eclipse?”
“Jeremy’s right,” Gail said. “You’re a Harte, Nick, and Octavia is related to the woman who sparked the original Harte-Madison feud. Trust me, the legend of the big brawl at the Total Eclipse will live on forever.”
Jeremy nodded in agreement. “Mostly because there’s so little to talk about in a small town like this.”
“Well, it’s only to be expected, I suppose. You do know she is related to that Claudia Banner woman. The one who started the Harte-Madison feud all those years ago.”
Octavia froze in the act of putting the six-pack of bottled spring water in the basket of the supermarket cart. The voice came from the next aisle over, the one labeled Canned Veg & Beans.
“My Hank said there hasn’t been a brawl like that at the Total Eclipse in ages. Not since that biker club came through town three years back. Fred claims that there was a couple of thousand dollars worth of damage done in the pool room last night.”
She recognized the voices now. Megan Grayson and Sandra Finley. Both women had come into Bright Visions to browse on occasion and both served on the Summer Celebration committee.
“If you ask me, Fred’s just taking advantage of a golden opportunity,” Megan said. “One of the Willis brothers told my husband that Fred has been thinking about repainting the Total Eclipse for years. He put it off because he was too cheap to pay for the job. But he knows he can get the money out of Nick Harte and Jeremy Seaton now, so why not go for it?”
“You have to wonder why Nick and Jeremy were playing pool together in the first place. Those two haven’t had much to do with each other in a couple of years. Not since Jeremy’s divorce, in fact. Everyone assumed they’d had a falling out of some kind.”
“And then they both went and dated Octavia Brightwell here in Eclipse Bay.” Sandra made a disapproving noise that sounded a lot like the clucking of a chicken. “That can’t have helped the situation. In fact, you’d have thought that those two would have been at each other’s throats by now. Nothing like a woman coming between two men to cause trouble.”
“Well, from all accounts they were on the same side in that bar fight last night. Sounds like they must have settled their differences.”
“Who would have thought a Harte and a Seaton would get into a barroom brawl? Oh, sure, you expect that sort of thing from a Madison, but I always thought the Hartes and the Seatons were a lot more refined.”
“Don’t you believe that for one moment,” Megan said. “Remember, it was Sullivan Harte who got into that fistfight with Mitch Madison all those years ago and launched the feud. And from what I’ve heard, the Seatons aren’t all saints, either. I can imagine how poor Edith must feel today. They say she’s absolutely beside herself this morning because of what happened last night. Didn’t even open her shop. Probably can’t face the gossip.”
“More likely she can’t stand to be civil to Octavia Brightwell,” Sandra said. “I mean, everyone knows that Octavia was the cause of the fight that involved Edith’s precious grandson.”
“Edith has always been so proud of Jeremy. I swear his divorce hit her harder than it did him. She was so thrilled that he’d married into such a fine family, remember? Not that the fine family ever gave her the time of day, as far as I could tell. Word had it that they encouraged the divorce.”
“And now he’s involved in a free-for-all at the Total Eclipse. No wonder she doesn’t want to show her face in public today.”
“By the way, you did hear that Nick Harte spent the night with Octavia Brightwell?”
“I certainly did. His car was seen leaving her place at eight o’clock this morning.”
Megan giggled. “Word is, she may have broken the curse.”
“I think it’s a lot more likely that Nick Harte is having himself a little fun this summer. It’ll end when he goes back to Portland.”
“If you ask me, it’s Octavia Brightwell who ought to go into hiding. She should be ashamed of herself. When you stop and think about it, she’s the real problem here.”
“A real troublemaker,” Sandra agreed. “Back in high school we had a name for women like that.”
That does it, I’ve had enough, Octavia thought. She wheeled her cart around the corner and started down Canned Veg & Beans.
“Good morning, Sandra. Megan.” She gave both women a brilliant smile. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
Sandra and Megan hushed instantly. They gripped the handles of their shopping carts and stared at her as though she had materialized out of thin air.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.” Octavia jerked her own cart to a halt a short distance away and blocked the aisle with it. “And I am very curious to find out exactly what word you had for women like me back in high school, Sandra.”
Sandra Finley turned an unpleasant shade of red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have misunderstood.”
“She’s right,” Megan said quickly. “You didn’t hear her correctly.” She looked triumphant. “It never pays to eavesdrop, you know.”
“Hard to avoid hearing you two, since you insist upon discussing me in the middle of a grocery store aisle.”
“You’ll have to excuse me.” Megan glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a committee meeting at three.”
“So do I,” Sandra said. She tightened her grip on the cart handle.
Octavia did not shift her shopping cart out of their path. “You know, speaking of names that we used back in high school, I remember one that fits both of you perfectly. Rhymes with rich.”
Sandra got her jaw back into place. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
“I really don’t have time for this,” Megan said.
Having concluded that she could not go forward, she swung her shopping cart into a tight U-turn. And promptly banged into Sandra’s cart. The baskets jammed together. The wheels snagged, making it impossible for either woman to maneuver out of the aisle.
Octavia surveyed her captive audience. “Now, then, I have a suggestion. Since the two of you are obviously going to spend the rest of the day spreading gossip, what do you say we take a few minutes to get one particular fact straight?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sandra said stiffly.
Octavia ignored that. “For the record, Nick Harte did not leave my cottage at eight o’clock this morning. That is a flat-out lie.”
Megan and Sandra looked at her, suddenly rapt. Neither said a word.
“He left at precisely seven thirty-five,” Octavia said coolly. “I remember, because we had just finished breakfast together and I turned on the radio to catch the morning news.”
Megan and Sandra blinked.
Octavia smiled. “Hey, you know what? I’ll bet that women like you are the sort who will appreciate a few of the more intimate details about my relationship with Nick. I’m sure there are probably all kinds of stories going around about us and the techniques
I used to break the curse.”
Megan and Sandra’s jaws dropped.
Octavia leaned forward, bracing her arms on the handle of her cart, and assumed a confidential air. “I imagine you’d like to hear just how I did it, wouldn’t you? Are you ready for this? I made poached eggs and toast for Nick’s breakfast.”
A thunderous hush fell on the adjoining aisles. It seemed to Octavia that the whole of Fulton’s had suddenly gone silent.
“My secret is a little Dijon mustard on the toast under the eggs.” She winked. “Trust me, it really adds some zip. You should have seen Nick’s face when I put that plate down in front of him. Talk about a man who looks like he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.”
Megan and Sandra were no longer watching her. Their gazes were riveted on a point just beyond her shoulder.
I’m getting an audience, Octavia thought. Terrific. Another little scene, the details of which would be all over town by sundown. The really interesting thing was that she did not give a damn. Not right now at any rate. Right now she was on a roll.
“If you think that the thing with the mustard is kinky, wait until I tell you how Nick got his coffee this morning,” she said in a gossipy tone. “Talk about getting down to the good stuff. So, there we were, sitting at the breakfast table and I can tell that he’s ready for a second cup, you know? I mean, he’s really, really ready for it. Wow. This man is hot for another cup, if you get my drift.”
“Might be a good idea to give everyone some time to cool off before you tell them about the coffee thing,” Nick said behind her. He sounded amused, but there was the barest hint of a warning in his voice. “I’m not sure Eclipse Bay is ready for the details of my second cup of coffee.”
She spun around. Reality came back with a jarring thud.
“I think it might be a good idea to check out now,” he said.
She wondered just how big a fool she had made of herself. He was right. This was a very, very good time to check out.