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."
"Not hard," he agreed.
"And no one back here in Eclipse Bay would have a clue."
"No one but me," he corrected mildly.
"You wouldn't have any way of knowing what had happened, either. Not unless you made it a point to keep up with events in the art world."
He did not take his eyes off the road. "I'd do that, though."
"You would?"
"Let's just say I'd keep up with events concerning you."
"Oh." She mulled that over for a while and then, apparently not knowing what to do with it, let it go. She tightened her arms around her midsection. "Well, it's all moot because I did not steal the painting."
"I explained that to Eugene and Dwayne."
"You did?" Something in her expression lightened. "That was very nice of you."
"That's me. Mr. Nice Guy."
"I'm serious," she said. "That rumor about me taking the painting sounds quite logical when you think about it. I can see where reasonable people might start to wonder if I was the thief. After all, I am related to Claudia Banner and everyone knows what she did here."
He said nothing.
"I appreciate your support."
"Hey, you're the client. I lose you, I lose my fee."
"What fee?" she asked warily.
"Good question. Been wondering about that, myself. What fee?"
"You're not expecting a fee and you know it," she said crisply.
"That right? No fee, huh?"
They were in the woods now, climbing the hillside above the town. The cool, green canopy cut the bright sunlight. He watched for the familiar sign.
"Stop making a joke out of this," she said briskly. "We both know why you're looking for the painting. You want to help A.Z. and Virgil and the others."
"Not exactly," he said.
"What does that mean?"
"Means, not exactly."
The sign inscribed with the faded words Snow's Cafe came into view. The parking lot was crowded with vehicles ranging from bicycles to Volvos. Most of them, he knew, belonged to students and staff from nearby Chamberlain College. Arizona had catered to that particular clientele since she had opened the restaurant.
He turned off the road and parked next to a shiny little yellow Volkswagen.
"You know," Octavia said coolly, "the macho-cryptic private eye talk reads well in your books, but it doesn't go over so great in person."
"I hate when that happens."
He unfastened his seat belt and climbed out before she could pursue that line of inquiry. He was not in the mood to explain that the real reason he was playing private eye was because of her. Something Eugene had said came back to him. How does it feel to be led around by your balls?
That was Eugene for you, a real relationship guru. Downright insightful.
He shut the door and started around the rear of the car. By the time he got to her side she was already out of the front seat, moving toward him with a determined stride. She gripped the handbag slung over one shoulder very tightly and there was a dangerous look in her eyes.
Damn. He was getting hard.
He opened the door of the cafe and ushered her into the pleasant gloom of the comfortably shabby interior. Tough-looking rock stars of another era, thin and angry and wearing a lot of leather, glared down at them from the ancient posters that decorated the walls. The music piped through the old speakers came from the same time warp as the posters, but the decibel level was kept reasonably low so that you could hold a conversation without shouting.
Arizona did not spend much time here these days. She relied on employees she recruited from the work-study offices of Chamberlain. She trained a new crew at the beginning of each academic year and she paid them handsomely. The result was a remarkably loyal staff that, in turn, freed her to concentrate on what she saw as her chief mission in life: keeping tabs on the goings-on at the institute.
"Getting back to the way you explained things to Eugene and Dwayne." Octavia tossed her bag into the booth and slid in beside it. "Maybe you'd better tell me precisely what you said."
"Hard to recall precisely what I said." He flipped open the plastic-coated menu.
Portions of Arizona's bill of fare were occasionally updated to reflect passing trends such as soy products and veggie patties, but mostly A.Z. stuck with the basic student food groups: burgers, fries, and pizza.
"Talk to me, Nick. I'm very serious here. What did you say to Eugene and Dwayne?"
"Why is that conversation of such great interest to you?" he asked, not looking up from the menu.
"Because the more I think about it, the more it worries me. I don't know those two well, but from what I've heard about them, it would surprise me if they took good advice willingly."
"I tried to provide an incentive."
She went very still on the other side of the table. "That's what I was afraid of."
"Look, don't worry about it, okay?"
"I'm worried." She reached out and plucked the menu from his fingers. "What magic words did you use to make them back off those rumors?"
What the hell, he thought. She would probably find out sooner or later, anyway. He lounged against the padded seatback and contemplated her for a moment.
"Lavender and Leather," he said finally.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Lavender and Leather is the name of a g*y bar located in the Capitol Hill neighborhood in Seattle," he explained. "About a year ago, Eugene and Dwayne went off to the big city, had a few beers, and decided it would be amusing to hang out in the vicinity of the establishment. They planned to entertain themselves hassling some of the patrons."
She was instantly incensed. "And here I've gone out of my way to be polite to them whenever I see them on the street. I actually felt sorry for those two."