"About time you two got here." Arizona motioned toward the chairs that sat opposite her on the other side of the desk. "Have a seat. Coffee?"
Octavia glanced toward the machine in the corner. She could detect the unmistakable odor of burned coffee from where she stood. The glass pot had been sitting on the hot plate for a long, long time.
"No, thanks," she said politely. She took one of the chairs. "I've had enough today."
"I'll pass, too." Nick dropped into the chair beside her. He angled his chin toward the three Heralds. "How's Project Log Book going?"
"Right on schedule, and I intend to keep it that way." Arizona permitted herself a small moment of intense satisfaction. "Those bastards up at the institute aren't going to stop us. But we've got a problem."
"What's up?" Nick asked easily.
"The institute crowd has started a rumor. Heard it at Fulton's this morning," Arizona stated, clearly agitated.
Octavia sighed. "That would be the rumor that I'm the one who stole the painting and faked a break-in at my gallery to cover my tracks?"
"Bingo." Arizona snorted. "So, you've heard it, too, eh?"
"Yes," Nick said. "Seemed to be coming from Eugene and Dwayne. I took steps to keep them quiet, but I had a hunch that they weren't the original source."
"I reckon that the institute tried to use them to spread it for obvious reasons," Arizona said. "Not like those two blockheads would question the source of a story. They'd just happily blab to anyone who would listen. Whoever used them knew that was their nature."
Nick thought for a minute. "You said you heard the rumor at Fulton's?"
"Checkout counter," Arizona said. "Overheard Betty Stiles talking about it to Marjorie Dunne."
An unpleasant whisper of unease went through Octavia. Marjorie Dunne was the mother of little Katy Dunne, one of the children who had entered a picture in the Children's Art Show. Gordon Dunne served on the town council and had made it clear that he intended to run for mayor in the next election cycle. The family took its role as pillars of the community seriously.
"Betty and Marjorie, huh?" Nick leaned back in his chair and thrust his legs out toward the desk. He steepled his fingers. "What we need to do is trace this rumor back to the source."
"We know where it got started," Arizona snapped. "That crowd up at the institute concocted it. I'll bet they've got that painting stashed somewhere up there, too. Now, I've come up with a plan-"
"No." Nick unsteepled his fingers and held up one hand, palm out, to silence her. "Don't even think about it. You are not going to send Octavia and me into the institute to search for that painting."
"Got to go in," Arizona declared. "Don't see any other way to find the picture."
"Give me a few more days," Nick said. "I'm working on some angles."
Arizona looked skeptical. "What angles?"
"It's a little complicated and I'm not ready to talk about it yet. Let's just say that I think this thing has roots in the past. I've asked my grandfather to help. He and Mitch Madison are doing some deep background research. When I get the results I'll contact you."
"Deep background, huh?" Arizona chewed on her cigar while she pondered that. "When do you expect a report from 'em?"
"Soon," Nick promised. He got to his feet. "Any day now. Hold off on your plans to go into the institute until I get back to you, okay? If you move now, you may alert the folks who are behind this and they'll probably move that painting. Maybe ship it to California. We'll never find it if they take it out of town."
Arizona munched on her cigar a couple of times and then nodded decisively. "All right. I'll give you a few days to finish your deep background. But if you don't get anything useful out of Sullivan and Mitch, we're gonna have to go in. It's our only option."
"Right. I'll be in touch." Nick took Octavia's arm and hauled her up out of the chair. "Come on, we've got work to do, honey."
The honey bemused her a little. She got the feeling that he wasn't even conscious of having used the endearment. She thought about that while she allowed herself to be dragged from the War Room.
Outside, a light summer rain was falling. The woods surrounding the fortified cabin were cloaked in a gray mist. Nick hustled her into his car, and then went around the front and got in beside her.
She looked at him as he quickly reversed and drove back along the thin, rutted path that served as Arizona's driveway.
"Deep background?" she said dryly.
"I thought it sounded good. Had a nice military ring."
"It did seem to impress Arizona, but you only bought us a little time. What do you expect to accomplish?"
"Beats me. But I didn't have much choice. I had to come up with something fast. I definitely do not want to get tangled up in one of Arizona's little clandestine recon projects at the institute."
"From what Mitch told me, it's sort of a family tradition. Hannah and Rafe carried out a mission for Arizona and so did Lillian and Gabe."
"And it was just damn good luck that none of them got picked up for illegal trespass." Nick turned the wheel and drove out onto the main road. "I've got no intention of following in their illustrious and heroic footsteps, thank you very much. Especially when there's no reason in hell to think that the painting has been hidden up there at the institute."
Her small flash of amusement faded. "But you do believe that it's still somewhere in town, don't you?"
"Yes." He did not take his attention off the road. "I think whoever took it did it for personal reasons, not for profit. That means it's probably still somewhere in town. We need to find the source of those rumors."
A few minutes later Nick drove into town, turned onto Bay Street, and parked in the lot at the end of the row of shops. He got out and walked with Octavia to the door of the gallery.
The flicker of unease she had experienced a short time ago when Arizona had recounted the scene at Fulton's returned. Inside the gallery, Gail stood at the counter. She was engaged in an intense conversation with Marjorie Dunne.
"That's a ridiculous rumor, Mrs. Dunne," Gail said forcefully. "I can't imagine who started it, but it has absolutely no basis in fact."
Marjorie was clearly not about to be reassured or placated. Clad in tailored slacks and a fashionable cream silk blouse and wearing a lot of gold jewelry, she was, as usual, overdressed for Eclipse Bay. Her blond hair was cut in a short, sophisticated bob that Octavia was pretty sure had not come from Carla's Custom Cut amp; Curl. The local beauty shop specialized in two distinctive looks: Very Big Hair and the Senior Citizen Helmet.
"I'm sorry," Marjorie said, not looking particularly remorseful, just very determined, "but regardless of whether or not the rumors are true, I must insist that you give me my daughter's picture. I can't allow Katy to participate in the art show so long as there's a cloud hanging over Octavia Brightwell and this gallery. I have to think of my husband's position in the community."
Octavia felt Nick go very still beside her. Alarmed by the anger she sensed humming through him, she stepped forward quickly to defuse the situation.
"I assume this is about the gossip that is going around concerning me," she said calmly.
Gail and Marjorie both turned quickly. Gail's expression was every bit as resolute as Marjorie's.
Marjorie looked momentarily taken aback at the sight of Nick standing next to Octavia. She started to speak to him, but Gail overrode her.
"Katy will be crushed if her picture isn't in the show," Gail said to Octavia. She gave Marjorie a brief, pointed look. "I'm sure Mrs. Dunne wouldn't want her daughter to feel left out because of some stupid gossip. You know how sensitive children are."
Marjorie flushed a dull red, but she was resolved. "I'm sorry about this, Octavia. Katy may not understand why I'm doing this, but it's for her own good. I'm sure you can see my position here. Dunnes have been respected members of this community for three generations."
"You must do what you feel is best for your daughter," Octavia agreed. "It's unfo
rtunate that you believe the rumor that I stole the Upsall, but that is your choice. I'll get the picture for you."
Marjorie's mouth tightened. "I didn't say I believed the gossip. I'm sure there's nothing to it. But it just wouldn't look good for Katy's picture to be in the show."
"That's ridiculous," Gail fumed. "The best way to help us squelch that gossip is to allow your daughter's picture to be exhibited with the others. If you pull it, you'll just add fuel to the fire and you know it."
Octavia was touched, but she was not about to let Gail fight this battle for her. "It's all right, I'll get the picture."
She circled the counter, opened the door of the back room, and went inside.
"I'm sorry about this," Marjorie said coldly, "but it really is not my problem, is it?"
"Depends how you look at it, Marjorie," Nick said.
In the back room, Octavia winced. Nick was in a dangerous mood.
Marjorie, however, apparently did not recognize the razor-sharp edge of the blade buried in the too-soft words.
"Nick." She was suddenly overflowing with warmth and cordiality. "I heard you were in town for the summer. Nice to have you back in Eclipse Bay for a while."
"Thanks," Nick said.
"I saw your latest book on the rack at Fulton's," Marjorie said. "A very intriguing cover."
"Think so?"
"Yes, indeed. I have an excellent sense of color and design, you know. I'm sure the story is very good, too. I understand you've become quite popular. Unfortunately I don't have much time to read these days."
"Why am I not surprised?" Nick murmured.
Octavia stifled a groan and hurriedly went to work sorting through the framed paintings to find Katy's picture. If she didn't get out there fast, there would be blood on the floor of the gallery.
"Gordon is getting ready to run for mayor, you know," Marjorie continued in a blithe, chatty fashion, evidently unaware of the ledge she was walking. "And what with all the campaign work and Katy's summer activities schedule, I haven't had a chance to read anything other than a newspaper for months."
"I know what you mean," Nick said. "I've been a little busy myself lately. I'm working on finding out who started those rumors that are circulating about Octavia."
"Oh, yes." Marjorie sounded nonplussed, as if she hadn't intended the conversation to go in this direction. "Yes, I did hear that you were asking around about the painting. Uh, any luck yet?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm getting close."
"That's wonderful," Marjorie said vaguely.
"I'm working on this theory, you see. I figure that when I find out who started the rumors, I'll have the thief."
Marjorie cleared her throat. "Is that so? I don't see why there would be any connection…?" She let the remainder of the question dangle in thin air.
"There's a connection, all right," Nick assured her with the grave authority of an expert in his field. "It's obvious that someone is promoting the gossip in order to divert attention from himself." He gave it half a beat before adding very deliberately, "Or herself, as the case may be. It's an old tactic."
"It is?" Marjorie asked warily.
"Sure. Thieves and bad guys use it all the time. That's why the first thing law enforcement types do is check out the rumors surrounding a crime. They call it following leads."
"I see." Marjorie cleared her throat again. "I didn't know that."
"Probably because you've never read one of my books," Nick said very politely.
Octavia gritted her teeth. Things were getting nasty out there. She tried to sort more swiftly through the pictures. She was pretty sure Katy had done a drawing of a house. And she thought she recalled a big yellow flower, too.
"I'm making a list of everyone who repeats the gossip," Nick explained. "Checking out the sources. See who's trying to spread the rumors."
"That doesn't sound very helpful." Marjorie sounded a little desperate now.
"When I'm done, I'll give the list to Sean Valentine so that he can take a closer look at some of the people on it. I figure it's safe to say that someone on the list will prove to be the guilty party."
"I don't think you can make that assumption." Alarm registered in Marjorie's voice. "I mean, that's ridiculous. Everyone in town is spreading that gossip."
"Not quite everyone," Nick said. "For instance, I'll bet Gail, here, hasn't repeated the rumors."
"Nope, not me," Gail assured them with ferocious glee. "I wouldn't spread that kind of outrageous nonsense. I've got my position in the community to consider. After all, my family is third-generation here in Eclipse Bay. Same as yours, Marjorie."
"Well, I heard the story from Betty Stiles down at Fulton's," Marjorie said. Defensive now. "I have no idea where she got it."
"Thanks, I'll talk to Betty," Nick said smoothly.
"Why waste your time?" Marjorie asked. "It's Sean Valentine's job to find that painting."
"I'm doing this as a favor," Nick said. "Octavia is what you might call a close friend of the family."
There was another short pause.
"I see," Marjorie said cautiously.
Octavia spotted Katy's picture and snatched it out of the stack of framed drawings. She hurried toward the door.
"Here's your daughter's picture." She thrust it across the counter toward Marjorie. "It's a lovely drawing. Nice feel for color. Tell her she can keep the frame. Compliments of the gallery."
"Thank you. I truly do regret this. But I have to consider Gordon's position." Marjorie took the picture somewhat uncertainly and turned back to Nick. "Good luck with your little investigation."
"I'm sure we'll find out who took the painting," he said with astounding confidence. "My list is almost finished."
"Yes, well, I certainly hope you get the situation resolved soon." Marjorie summoned up a polished smile. "By the way, since you're in town for the summer, I'll be sure to send an invitation to Katy's birthday party to Carson. Katy's turning six in August, you know."
"I appreciate the thought," Nick said, "but it would probably be better not to bother with the invitation. I'm sure you can understand my situation here. I can't allow Carson to attend a birthday party given for a child whose mother's name is on my list. Got to consider Carson's position in the community, you see."
Marjorie's jaw dropped visibly. Shock and horror blended in her expression.
Octavia had a sudden urge to cover her face with both hands. Beside her, Gail did not make any attempt to conceal a satisfied grin.
Marjorie pulled herself together with commendable speed. "How dare you imply that I… that I'm on your list."
"Don't worry about it, Marjorie," Nick said. "When this is all over, I'm sure everyone will eventually forget who was on the list and who wasn't."
"Of all the-" Marjorie was overcome with outrage. Unable to speak, she simply stood there, glaring helplessly.
"You know," Nick went on as if nothing awkward had been said, "if you'd like to assist in the investigation, I'd be very grateful. In fact, everyone in my family would really appreciate the favor. Given your position in the community, you could be very helpful."
Marjorie's mouth worked once or twice before she managed to speak. "Well, of course, I'd love to help you but I honestly don't see how I could be of any more assistance. I told you, it was Betty Stiles who is spreading the story."
"I'll be talking to Betty next," Nick assured her. "But, since you've offered to help, there is one thing you could do that would go a long way toward narrowing my list."
"What's that?"
Nick glanced at the picture Marjorie clutched in her beringed hands. "Leave Katy's drawing here with the others. It will send a strong signal to the community that you don't think the rumors are true."
Marjorie was trapped and they all knew it. She shot a fulminating look at Octavia, and then she put the picture down on the counter and turned back to Nick with an earnest smile. "Well, if you really think it would help-"
"Oh, yeah," Nick sai
d. "No question about it. Like I said, I really appreciate it."
"About your list," Marjorie added delicately.
"Obviously I won't have to add you to it," Nick said.
That seemed to cheer Marjorie slightly. She went quickly toward the door. "I hope it won't take you and Sean long to end this matter."
"It won't," Nick said.
They all watched in silence as Marjorie fled out the door and down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
Octavia rested both elbows on the counter, propped her chin on her hands, and looked at Gail and Nick in turn. "Don't get me wrong. I am deeply touched. But I'm not sure that coercing Marjorie into leaving Katy's painting here was smart."
"Who cares about smart?" Gail said. "It felt good."
"That was Marjorie Dunne, for heaven's sake," Octavia reminded her dryly. "She's the wife of a member of the town council. Probably the wife of the next mayor of Eclipse Bay."
"So what?" Gail said with a chuckle. "This is Nick Harte. His family can buy and sell the entire town council and the mayor, too. In point of fact, if old legends are to be believed, they have done just that on a number of occasions."
"Be fair," Nick said to her. "It's not our fault that the council and the mayor have historically shown a certain willingness to accommodate us Hartes in exchange for contributions to their library building funds and pier renovation projects."
Octavia studied him with fresh appreciation. "My, my. I believe I have just witnessed an exhibition of what is commonly called throwing one's weight around."
"Relax, Marjorie deserved it," Gail said. "She has a history of behaving badly to lesser mortals. She was the same in high school. I don't suppose it escaped your notice that she didn't offer to send one of those birthday party invitations to my Anne."
"I did notice the oversight," Octavia admitted.
"If it's any consolation," Nick said, "Anne will get an invitation to Carson's party next month."
Gail smiled. "Thank you. She'll be thrilled. She hasn't had a chance to make any friends yet here in town."
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