"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.