"Why not?" Her chin came up. "None of my business?"
"No," he said grimly. "It isn't. But just so we're clear on this subject, I'd like to point out that we've already had The Talk."
"Is that so?" she asked in icy accents. "I don't recall it."
"Then you've got a short-term memory problem, lady."
"Don't you dare try to wriggle out of this." She strode forward, clutching the chenille throw to her throat, and came to a halt directly in front of him. She jabbed a forefinger against his chest. "You did not give me The Talk. I wouldn't have forgotten something like that."
"No," he agreed coolly. "I didn't deliver it. You did."
That stopped her cold.
She stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't you remember?" He moved out onto the shadowy porch. "You made it clear that you're a free spirit and that you'll be leaving at the end of the summer. Sounded to me like you weren't looking for anything other than a short-term affair."
"Hang on here, I never said anything of the kind. You're putting words in my mouth."
"Trust me." He flicked on a little penlight and started down the front steps. "I know The Talk when I hear it."
She was too dumbfounded to speak for a moment. By the time she had recovered, he was in the car, driving away into the night.
She abruptly realized that her bare feet were very cold.
Chapter 9
"What do you think is going on?" Lillian asked on the other end of the line.
"I think they've started an affair." Hannah glanced out into the hall to make sure no one was eavesdropping on her conversation with her sister.
Satisfied that she and Winston had the office to themselves, she closed the door and went back to the chair behind the desk. Winston, stretched out on his belly on the rug, watched her alertly.
It was obvious that he sensed her tension.
"You're sure they're involved?" Lillian asked.
"Yes. You should have seen him last night when he came back here to pick up Carson. Whatever is going on between those two, it's serious."
"Did he give her The Talk?"
"I don't think so. I asked him point-blank and instead of making a joke out of it, the way he usually does, he acted pissed off."
"He was mad?"
"Yes. More or less told me to mind my own business. Believe me, he was not in a good mood last night."
"Hmm."
"I know," Hannah said. "I had the same reaction."
They both fell silent for a while, thinking. Hannah looked out the window. The air was crisp and clear in the wake of the big storm. The bay was unnaturally smooth. From where she sat she could see Rafe and the two gardeners working to clear some branches that had been downed by the high winds.
"He hasn't let any woman get to him since Amelia died," Lillian said eventually.
"I know. Give me your professional opinion."
"I'm out of the matchmaking business, remember? I'm an artist now."
"You must still have some instincts. Your intuition when it came to figuring out couples was always amazing."
"My instincts aren't any good when it comes to those two," Lillian said honestly. "I tried to read the situation that night when I saw them together at my show there in Eclipse Bay. I got nothing. A complete blank."
"Does that mean it's a bad match?"
"No, it means I just couldn't tell one way or the other. It's hard to explain, but it was as if there was some sort of invisible glass shield between them and my intuition. I couldn't get past it. Whatever is going on with those two is as much a mystery to me as it is to you."
"Personally, I'm hoping she's the one for Nick. I really like Octavia, and Carson adores her."
That caught Lillian's attention. "Carson likes her?"
"Yes. I've never seen him like this with any of the other women Nick has dated. You'd think he was trying to do a little matchmaking himself."
"Interesting." Lillian pondered that briefly. "Of course, in all fairness, Carson has never had much opportunity to get to know any of Nick's other girlfriends."
"That's because Nick has always gone out of his way to keep that part of his life compartmentalized and separate from his life with Carson. This time it's different. That's my big point here. The very fact that Nick has allowed Carson to develop a personal relationship of his own with Octavia is a very strong indicator that this is not business as usual. Don't you agree?"
"Maybe. Depends."
"On what?"
"Well, it could be that Nick isn't deliberately allowing Carson to get to know Octavia. It may just be the circumstances. Eclipse Bay isn't a big city. There's no way Nick could have a clandestine affair here. It's impossible to keep one's private life private in this town."
"And nobody knows that better than Nick. Yet he made the decision to spend the summer here and it looks to me as if he has actively encouraged Carson to form an attachment to Octavia. I swear, they find an excuse to stop by her gallery every single day when they go into town to pick up the mail or shop for groceries."
"All right, I agree that isn't Nick's usual M.O. when it comes to women and his personal life," Lillian said thoughtfully. "Could be significant. You're sure he hasn't had The Talk with her?"
"Almost positive. It may mean that he's finally ready to move beyond the loss of Amelia."
"About time," Lillian said.
"Hey, he's a Harte. When Hartes fall in love, they fall hard."
"Mmm."
"What's this?" A flicker of alarm wafted through Hannah. She exchanged a concerned look with Winston, who promptly got to his feet and crossed the small space to put his head on her knee. "You don't believe that Nick has really become Hardhearted Harte, do you?"
"I think," Lillian said carefully, "that there may have been more problems in his relationship with Amelia than he ever let on."
"I know you were never fully satisfied that they were a great match. But there is no absolutely perfect match. And it doesn't mean that Nick didn't love Amelia deeply."
"No. It doesn't mean that," Lillian agreed. "But I've always wondered if it was Nick's decision to leave Harte Investments that exposed the underlying weaknesses in that marriage. If Amelia had lived, they might have worked things out. For Carson's sake, if nothing else. She loved him as much as Nick does."
"Yes. Amelia was a good mother." Hannah touched her still-flat stomach. She had not yet grown accustomed to the sense of wonder that accompanied the realization of the small miracle that was taking place inside her. "No one would ever say otherwise. Especially not in front of Nick."
"True. But if I'm right and there were some serious problems in that marriage, it might explain why Nick has been so careful to avoid a serious relationship in the years since Amelia's death."
"Protecting himself? You think he's afraid of making another mistake?"
"He's a Harte. We're not supposed to screw up when it comes to love and marriage, remember? We're supposed to get it right every time."
"If he didn't get it right last time, he might be doubly cautious this time."
"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 warmth 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?"
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