"But—"
"Aunt Claudia owes you this much," Octavia said.
She unlocked the gallery an hour earlier than usual and went straight to work reorganizing and tidying up the shop.
She took down drooping balloons and swept the cookie crumbs off the floor. It required three trips to the Dumpster to get rid of all the used paper cups, plates, and napkins.
When the trash had been dealt with, she concentrated on the display panels. One by one she took down the framed drawings that had been done by the children and replaced them with the usual pictures. She stacked the kids' pictures in one corner in the back room, ready to be collected by the proud artists.
She was coming through the door that separated the back room from the showroom, a large seascape in her hands, when she caught a glimpse of Nick's car. He was just pulling into the parking lot. Directly behind him was Mitchell's big monster of an SUV.
Nick, Carson, and Sullivan, accompanied by Mitchell, came through the front door two minutes later. They all looked at her, concerned and serious and a little baffled.
"Okay, we're here," Nick said. "What's this all about?"
"Hang on," she said. "I'll be right back."
She darted into the other room to scoop up the painting that she had left propped against the leg of the worktable.
She walked back out into the main room holding the picture aloft for all to see. "Look what I found when I started cleaning up after the art show this morning."
They all dutifully stared at the painting. None of the men said a word.
"Hey," Carson said gleefully, "I remember that picture. It's the one that belongs to A.Z. and Mr. Nash and the Heralds. The one everyone said had been stolen."
"It is, indeed," Octavia agreed. "You really do have a good eye for art, Carson."
He beamed.
She put the Upsall very carefully on the counter. "Evidently it got pushed behind a stack of pictures that was leaning against the wall. Heaven only knows how long it would have stayed back there if it wasn't for all the rearranging I had to do in here this morning."
"Well, shoot and damn," Mitchell said. The somber look evaporated from his eyes. A knowing expression took its place. "It was in your back room all along. How about that."
"Thank the good Lord we didn't rush off to confront our suspect last night," Sullivan said dryly. He grinned at Octavia. "Could have been more than a little awkward."
"Naturally, I feel like a complete idiot," Octavia said. "But at least this fiasco is finished and Nick no longer has to play detective."
Nick smiled slowly. He did not take his eyes off Octavia. "I was just starting to get the hang of it."
That evening Nick drove her back to the cottage after dinner with Carson and Sullivan at Dreamscape. There was obviously a conspiracy at work to give them some time together, Octavia thought, amused. No one had even been particularly subtle about sending them off by themselves this evening.
She made coffee and put two large, leftover chocolate chip cookies on a plate. When she carried the tray out into the living room, she found Nick slouched deep into her sofa. Looking comfortable, she thought. At home. Like he had every right to be there.
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… I love you.
A deep sense of joy welled up inside her and shimmered through her senses.
Nick watched her set the tray down on the coffee table.
"Alone at last," he said.
"Mmm." She put one of the cookies on a napkin and handed it to him.
He took a healthy bite. "Okay, let's have the real story," he said around a mouthful of cookie.
"You refer to the case of the missing Upsall, I presume?"
"What else? It's the only thing this town is talking about at the moment." He stretched out his legs and sank deeper into the sofa. "With the exception of you and me, of course."
"Mmm."
He sounded so matter-of-fact about the you and me part.
"You can skip the version in which you miraculously discover the Upsall when you tidy up your back room, by the way. I'm not buying it for a second."
She curled one foot under her leg and took a tiny sip of coffee. "The other version is a little complicated."
"Let's start with the fact that Sullivan, Mitchell, and I all know that Edith Seaton took the picture."
"She had her reasons."
"Sullivan and Mitchell figured that out. Phil Seaton was their accountant in the old days. Can one assume that your great-aunt seduced him into covering her tracks for her?"
"I'm afraid so. And afterward Edith was so horrified at the thought of being caught up in the scandal that she covered up for Phil."
"But never forgave your aunt, I take it?"
"She blamed Claudia for everything, not without considerable justification, I might add. When word got out that I was related to her old nemesis, Edith freaked. After all, I was having dinner with Jeremy, encouraging him to paint, and then I started sleeping with you. Clearly history was about to repeat itself. It was just too much for her to handle."
"So she stole the picture and spread the rumors. Piss-poor sort of revenge, if you ask me."
"It was the only kind that was left to her," Octavia said simply. "And she could justify it to herself for a time because she truly believed that I was turning out to be a bad influence on Jeremy."
"Because you encouraged him in his painting?"
"Yes."
"Huh." Nick ate the last of the cookie. "She didn't have any qualms about taking the easy way out, did she? Obviously she went along with your scheme to make the Upsall magically materialize in your back room."
"To be fair, she was reluctant at first. But when I told her that we were doing it for Jeremy's sake and for the sake of the Seaton name, she went for it. I also told her that I was sure that was the way Aunt Claudia would have wanted it."
Nick raised his brows and reached for his coffee. "Think it's true?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure Claudia even remembered Phil Seaton, let alone worried much about the damage she did to his family. But even if that was the case, one thing is certain—she definitely owed the Seatons. And now the debt has been paid in some small measure."
"Thanks to you."
She put her empty cup down on the coffee table. "It was the least I could do, given that I never got the chance to fulfill my mission of repairing the Harte-Madison feud."