Automatically she lowered her own voice to a whisper. "Who? What? Where? Tell me what's going on here, Nick."

He looked at her very steadily. "No one's got more of a right to answers than you do. But this afternoon Sullivan and Mitchell asked me to ask you to give them until noon tomorrow to confirm our hunch."

"Why the delay?"

"We need to be sure. We're talking about someone with deep ties throughout the community. People are going to be hurt. We can't afford to be wrong."

She searched his face. He was genuinely concerned about what might happen when it all came undone.

"And if you're right?" she asked gently.

"There will be a lot of fallout. And it won't all come down on the person who took the painting. There is someone else who will probably get dumped on, too. An innocent bystander."

"Collateral damage."

"Yes."

She shivered. "I hate those words. Translated, they mean that real people will get burned."

"Yes," he said again. But this time his eyes went cold. "I told Sullivan and Mitch that, although I'm willing to give them some time, I'm not going to let this thing get hushed up or swept under a rug. One way or the other, by tomorrow afternoon, your name will be cleared, no matter who gets hurt. I'm not going to let you take the rap."

He meant every word, she thought. He was making it blazingly clear that she was his first priority. The realization gave her an odd feeling. No one had ever fought any battles for her and now, in the space of less than a week, Nick had gotten involved in a barroom brawl and was about to expose an upstanding member of the community as a thief. All in her name.

"All right," she said. "Tell Mitch and Sullivan I'll wait until tomorrow."

"Thanks. They'll be grateful."

"I owe them that much," she said. "For Aunt Claudia's sake, if nothing else." She peeked around his shoulder. "I'd better go. This crowd is getting bigger and it looks like the cookies have disappeared."

She made to slide around the broad shield of his shoulders.

"One more thing I wanted to tell you before you run off," he said quietly.

She looked back at him, her mind on the cookie supply issue. "Yes?"

"Something I should have said that first night at Lillian's show. Something I knew at the time. Something I've known all along. Just didn't quite recognize it until recently. Probably because I'm a little out of practice."

"What's that?"

"I love you."

She stared at him, open-mouthed. Bereft of speech.

He gave her a sexy, knowing smile. "Better go check on the cookies."

He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled off into the crowd.

"When are you gonna get your dog?" Anne asked.

"Right after my birthday," Carson said. "That's when the puppies will be old enough to be'dopted. Dad says we'll drive to Portland so I can pick out one. It's the same place where Winston was born."

"What are you going to name him?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still thinking."

"When you bring him back here to Eclipse Bay can I see him?"

"Sure," Carson said, feeling magnanimous. "You can come to my birthday party, too."

"Okay. Do you want to come to mine?"

"Yeah," Carson said. "When is it?"

"August fourteenth."

"I'll bring my dog with me," Carson promised. He looked across the room to where Jeremy stood talking to Hannah and Anne's grandparents. "Is he gonna be your new dad?"

"Maybe." Anne took a bite of her cookie. "Mom likes him a lot, I think. Grandma and Grandpa like him, too. Mom says they have good taste in men and this time she's going to listen to 'em."

"I like him, too. Do you?"

"Uh-huh." Anne nodded enthusiastically. "He came to our house for dinner last night and everybody laughed and we played games and stuff. He liked my pictures. It was fun." She looked at Octavia, who was moving across the room toward the cookie table. "Is Miss Brightwell gonna be your new mommy?"

"I think so," Carson said. Then he frowned, still a little troubled about some aspects of the situation. "Unless Dad screws up again."

Octavia spied the Willis brothers shortly before the end of the event.

She was about to bid them a pleasant good evening and thank them for attending the show when she suddenly remembered the mysterious key she had found in the back room closet.

"Torrance? Walter? Have you got time for a quick question?"

"Thinking of doing a little remodeling in here?" Walter surveyed the gallery with a speculative expression. "A new paint job wouldn't hurt. We can give you a good price on a few cans of taupe."

"I'm not planning on doing any painting for a while. This is more of a hardware issue. I found a key in the closet. It doesn't fit either of the doors. You two did the security and locks here and I thought I'd see if you recognized it. If not, I'll toss it."

They followed her into the back room and looked around with interest while she took the key off the closet hook.

"Sure is cluttered in here," Torrance said. "We could build you some shelving or maybe some racks for stacking all these paintings."

"That's not a bad idea," she said. "I'll think about it." She held out the key.

Walter took it from her and gave it a quick, cursory glance. "No problem. Reckon we know what this goes to, don't we, Torrance?"

"Sure do," Torrance said. "Leastways, it's the same brand we used for that job. I remember we ordered it in special after the problems with that little rash of break-ins we had a couple years back." He looked at Octavia. "Turned out to be some kids fooling around. Summer people, you know. Sean Valentine took care of the situation, but a few folks around here got nervous and asked us to upgrade their locks and such."

"Won't be hard to check and see if this key fits where we think it does," Walter said.

Chapter 23

Octavia parked in the drive in front of the old, two-story house, turned off the ignition, and got out of the car. It was six-thirty in the morning, but fog veiled the early light and cast a damp pall on the entire town.

Or maybe it was just her mood, she thought as she went up the steps and crossed the front porch. She had not slept much last night.

She banged the brass knocker on the front door. When there was no response, she banged it a second time.

Eventually the door opened a crack.

"What on earth are you doing here at this hour of the morning?" Edith Seaton demanded.

"I think you know why I'm here," Octavia said gently. "I came to get the Upsall."

Edith stared at her through the narrow opening for a long moment. Without warning her face suddenly crumpled. In the space of five or six seconds she seemed to age at least a decade.

"Yes." She stood back and held the door open. "Yes, I suppose you'd better take it."

Octavia stepped into the shadowy foyer.

Edith turned, not speaking, and led the way toward the living room. She wore a long, faded dressing gown and slippers.

Octavia took a quick look around as she followed Edith. The house was decorated with what appeared to be leftovers from Edith's shop. There was a display of carnival glass in a case that stood against one wall. Small porcelain figures were arranged on the end tables. The furniture was heavy and old-fashioned.

Edith sat down very stiffly in a rose-patterned rocking chair. Octavia went to stand at the window that overlooked the garden.

"How did you figure it out?" Edith asked in a resigned voice.

"I came across a key in my back room. Last night I asked the Willis brothers if they recognized it. They said they had installed a special lock in the door of your shop. We checked. The key fit. Last night I got a phone call from Noreen Perkins. Sean Valentine had tracked her down to ask her about a missing painting and she was worried that I might think she'd had something to do with the theft."

"And you asked her about the key, I suppose," Edith said dully. "She no doubt told you that several months ago we exchanged keys and that she also gave me the security code to the gallery."

"Yes. She said that both of you had occasionally gotten accidentally locked out. She had trouble remembering the security code for the alarm system so she made sure you had it in case she ever needed it."

"We thought it would be a convenience for both of us."

Edith said. "But after she left, I forgot all about having the code and a key in my desk. Just never gave it another thought."

"Until the day you and everyone else in town discovered that Claudia Banner was my great-aunt."

"I couldn't believe it." Color rushed back into Edith's face. Her gnarled, spotted hands knotted into fists. "It was as if her ghost had come back to haunt me. Worse yet, it was happening all over again, just like it happened all those years ago. But this time it was my grandson she, I mean you, seduced."

"I did not seduce Jeremy."

"All that talk about putting his pictures on display in your gallery. Encouraging him to do more paintings for you. It was seduction, all right, and well you know it."

"It was business, not seduction."

"You went out to dinner with him several times, too."

"We are friends, Mrs. Seaton. But not lovers."

"Only because something better came along," Edith shot back hoarsely. "You dropped my Jeremy like a hot potato when Nick Harte started to date you. Don't deny it."

"I do deny it. Every single word. You're putting your own spin on this, Edith, but I think deep down you know that it isn't the truth."