Nick throttled back his temper with an effort. He was here to gather information, not get into a brawl. "You got any proof that Octavia Brightwell stole the painting?"

"Proof? I don't have to show you no proof. You're the private eye. Find your own proof." Eugene leered. "Just keep digging away. Who knows what you might find?"

"Okay, you don't have any proof," Nick said evenly. "Would you, by any chance, have a motive?"

"Motive?" Eugene glanced at Dwayne.

"He means like a reason why she would steal it," Dwayne said, surprising Nick with his insight and comprehension.

"Oh, yeah." Eugene switched his attention back to Nick. "I can give you a reason, all right. That picture is real valuable and it ain't insured or nothing. Not even mentioned in Old Man Thurgarton's will. There's no record it even exists, get it? No, whatcha call it, prominence."

"Provenance," Nick corrected softly.

"Right. So the way I figure it, little Ms. Brightwell is pulling a fast one on all of you. Works like this, see, she hides the picture, pretends it got stolen and later, when the heat dies down, she leaves town, maybe goes to Seattle or some place like that and sells the damn thing. That way she gets to keep all the money. Now do you get it, Harte?"

"Interesting theory," Nick said.

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" Eugene quaffed more beer and lowered the glass. Pleased with himself.

"And you say you came up with it all on your own?"

"Yep."

Dwayne opened his mouth, but he closed it again very rapidly when Eugene threw him a warning glare.

"In that case," Nick said, "can I ask you two gentlemen to refrain from spreading it any further until we find out exactly what is going on and maybe get some proof?"

Eugene looked intrigued. "Why should we keep quiet?"

"For one thing, there's a lady's reputation at stake."

"What reputation? Everyone in town knows she's screwing your brains out."

"I was speaking of her professional reputation."

"Who cares about that?" Eugene asked blankly.

"I do, for one," Nick said. "And I think maybe you and Dwayne, being gentlemen and all, should care about it, too."

They both looked at him as if he'd suggested that they should care about quantum physics.

Eugene recovered first. "Hell with her pro-fess-ion-al rep-u-ta-tion," he said, sounding each syllable out with sneering precision. "I don't give a shit about her reputation. You give a shit, Dwayne?"

"Nope," Dwayne said. "I figure the fact that she's screwing Harte's brains out is a lot more interesting than her professional reputation."

Nick rose slowly to his feet. They both watched him, taunting challenge in their faces.

"Let me put it to you this way, gentlemen," Nick said coolly. "If you two cannot manage to refrain from further public comment on either Ms. Brightwell's personal or professional reputation, I have two words of wisdom for you."

"What two words?" Eugene demanded, looking ready to pounce in victory.

"Lavender and Leather."

Eugene's face went slack as if he'd just gone completely numb. Maybe he had, Nick thought. With shock.

Dwayne gaped. He looked frozen with horror.

Satisfied that he had made his point, Nick turned and walked through the shadowy tavern. He pushed open the door and went out into the sparkling sunlight.

And immediately collided with Octavia, who had just put her hand on the door to open it.

"Excuse me, I-" She began, stepping hurriedly back out of the way. Then she recognized him. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me."

The transition from night to day dazzled his vision. Or maybe it was the sight of Octavia in a dress that was roughly the color of a tequila sunrise and was splattered with impossibly oversized orchids. He took his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on.

She glanced past him toward the door of the tavern. "What happened in there?"

"I confirmed something that I have long suspected."

"What?"

"No one in this town reads my books."

Chapter 14

"I read them," she said.

"You don't count. You're leaving town in a few weeks, remember?" He took her arm and steered her away from the entrance. "What the hell are you doing here? I hope you weren't planning to eat lunch at the Total Eclipse. You weren't raised in Eclipse Bay, so you probably lack the necessary immunity to survive Fred's cooking."

"I wasn't planning to eat there. I saw you go inside and I knew you had probably gone in to talk to someone about the painting."

"Brilliant deduction." Across the street, Sandy Hickson was watching them with great interest, a dripping squeegee dangling absently from one hand. Nick took Octavia's arm again. "Come on, let's get you out of here. There's enough talk about you going around as it is."

She skipped a little to keep up with him. "Did you learn anything in the Total Eclipse?"

"Always something to be learned in the Total Eclipse." he said flatly. "It is never less than an enlightening experience."

She frowned. "What happened in there?"

"Long story."

"It's lunchtime. Why don't we go somewhere and you can tell me this long story."

He looked at her.

"You know," she said with a determinedly bright smile. "You can give me a report."

A report, he thought. First he was therapy and now he was business. This relationship was not improving. On the contrary, it seemed to be going sideways. But an invitation to lunch counted for something.

"Okay," he said. "But you're the client, so you're buying."

She flushed a little and did not seem amused. "Certainly. Where shall we go?"

"I assume you have to get back to the gallery right away. We can grab a bite at the Incandescent Body."

"Well, actually, no, I don't have to get back to the gallery right away," she said smoothly. "I just hired an assistant for the summer. Gail Gillingham. She said she could handle the place for the afternoon."

"Gail?" He thought about that. "Good choice."

"I think so. Unfortunately, I can't offer her anything permanent, but she said that the position will give her some breathing space in which to hunt for a better situation. You know what they say, the best time to look for a job is when you've already got one."

"Yeah, I've heard that." He kept his grip on her arm and angled her across Bay Street, steering toward the gas station, where his car was still parked at the pump.

"Gail has a very professional attitude and she's smart."

Octavia said, trotting briskly along beside him. "I think that eventually she'll turn up something at the institute or at Chamberlain."

"Probably."

Octavia finally noticed that they were halfway across the street. She frowned. "Where are we going?"

"To get my car."

"Oh."

When they reached the BMW, Nick opened the door on the passenger side and stuffed Octavia into the seat. He closed the door and reached for his wallet.

"What do I owe you, Sandy?"

"Twenty-three bucks." Sandy peered through the windshield, looking at Octavia. "Everything go okay in the Total Eclipse?"

"Sure." Nick handed him the cash and started toward the driver's side of the car. "By the way, turns out Eugene and Dwayne were mistaken about that rumor they were spreading around."

Sandy blinked. "You mean the one about Miss-" He broke off abruptly when Nick gave him a hard look. He swallowed heavily. "Wrong, huh?"

"Yeah." Nick opened the door. "Completely false. Be a good idea if you didn't pass it along. Know what I mean?"

"Right," Sandy said quickly and nodded. "Big mistake."

Nick got behind the wheel. "You got it," he said through the open window. "Big mistake."

He drove out of the station, aware that Octavia was watching him intently.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Nothing important."

"Don't give me that. You deliberately intimidated Sandy Hickson. I want to know why."

He turned the corner and drove up the street that led away from the waterfront. "I didn't do a damn thing to Sandy."

"Yes, you did. I saw you. Something about the way you looked at him. I call that intimidation. Why did you do it?"

He contemplated that question for a while. Then he shrugged. "Okay, you should probably know what's going on, seeing as how you're the client, and all."

"Absolutely." She put on her own dark glasses, settled back into her seat, and folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Talk."

"There's a rumor going around town that you're the one who swiped the Upsall."

For a couple of seconds she did not move, just sat there gazing blankly through the windshield. Then she whipped around in the seat.

"Someone thinks I stole it?"

"I picked up the story from Sandy. He said he got it from a couple of colorful types who hang out at the Total Eclipse-"

"Mean Eugene and Dickhead Dwayne."

He was a little taken aback. Somehow it was hard to envision her calling anyone dickhead. He had to keep reminding himself that the Fairy Queen was not all sweetness and light. Not anymore.

"Uh, yeah," he said.

"Those two are spreading the rumor that I'm responsible for the theft, hmm?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I hate to say it, but you must admit that there is some logic to their theory. I mean, I do have motive, opportunity, and a good working knowledge of the art world. How hard would it be for a slick operator like me to scam a bunch of locals like A.Z. and Virgil and the Heralds? All I'd have to do is make the picture disappear, tell everyone it got stolen, and then, a few months from now when I'm settled in some big city, make it mysteriously reappear. Presto, my name is suddenly legend in the world of modern art."