Summer in Eclipse Bay

a couple of years ago and did some digging, myself."
    Nick looked at him. "Learn anything?"
    "Zilch. It's like neither one of them existed before they came to this town."
    "For what it's worth, there are some old rumors about them," Nick said. "My grandfather told me once that he thinks Nash may have done some government intelligence work at one time, which could explain why his past has been wiped out of the records. And most folks assume that A.Z. assumed a new identity somewhere along the way because she's so deep into her conspiracy theories. But neither of them are thieves. Rock-solid, upstanding citizens in their own weird ways."
    "I'm inclined to agree."
    "That leaves Photon and his happy little crew of bakers."
    "Yeah. And between you and me, that bunch is right at the top of my very short list." Sean got behind the wheel and closed the door. He squinted a little against the morning sun. "I'm going to run some background checks on some of those Heralds. But keep that to yourself. I want to handle it quietly. If word gets out that the group is under suspicion, some of the locals might turn on 'em real fast."
    "I know. There are still a few folks around who think they're running some kind of cult out of that bakery."
    "Think I'll also track down Noreen Perkins and her new boyfriend and ask them a few questions, too."
    "Why? They aren't even in town any longer."
    "Just being thorough."
    "Right. Catch you later."
    Sean put the SUV in gear and rolled off down the street.
    Nick went back into Bright Visions. He stopped just inside. Octavia, Arizona, Virgil, and Carson were all looking at him with expectant expressions.
    He surveyed the ring of interested faces. "Did I miss something?"
    Carson could scarcely contain himself. "Wait'll you hear A.Z.'s really cool idea, Dad."
    Nick managed, just barely, not to groan aloud. He caught Octavia's attention, expecting a little understanding, maybe even some sympathy in spite of the tension between them. After all, everyone knew that any really cool idea that had been concocted by Arizona Snow was an accident waiting to happen.
    But Octavia's expression reflected zero commiseration. Whatever this really cool idea was, it was getting serious consideration from her.
    In desperation, Nick turned to Virgil.
    "Nothing to lose," Virgil said, stroking his goatee.
    "Only chance we've got and that's a fact," Arizona stated with satisfaction.
    Nick surveyed each of them in turn. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
    Octavia cleared her throat. "Virgil's right. It probably won't work, but it's not like we have anything to lose. I say we go for it."
    "Yeah!" Carson cheered.
    "What, exactly, are you all planning to go for?" Nick asked warily.
    "What we need here is a professional private investigator," Arizona announced. "Got to be someone we can trust. The future of Project Log Book may be riding on this."
    "You're going to hire a private investigator?" Nick chuckled. "Good luck. I don't think we've got any of those in Eclipse Bay."
    Arizona looked crafty. "Got one."
    "Is that right?" Nick raised his brows. "Who?"
    "Quit teasing, Dad." Carson bounced a little. "A.Z. means you."
    "Yep." Arizona rocked on her boot-shod heels. "Far as I can tell, you're the closest we've got to the real thing here in Eclipse Bay."

Chapter 10
    "Are you all crazy?" Nick planted both hands on the counter and leaned across it. His tone was low, but his jaw was granite. "I write novels about a private eye. Such books are called fiction. Do you know what fiction means? It means it is
not real."
    "Calm down, Nick," Octavia said soothingly.
    She was very conscious of Carson, who was just outside the front door now talking to a man who had a dog in the back of his truck. She did not want the boy to overhear this argument.
    When Arizona and Virgil had left the gallery a few minutes earlier, she had slipped behind the counter. She had deemed it prudent to put a bit of distance between them. Given Nick's simmering outrage, it was clear that he was not thrilled with the idea of having been drafted. But the counter did not seem nearly wide enough.
    "Pay attention. I. Am. Not. A. Real. Private. Investigator." Nick spaced each word out very carefully and deliberately, as though talking to someone from another planet who might not have a good grasp of the language. "I do not have a license. I do not investigate for a living. I write
fiction
for a living. And you know that as well as I do. Why did you and Virgil agree