Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (12 page)

“Oh, yes!” Mr. Bigelow said.

Both Jonathan and Jacques gave him looks of disgust. “Everything in the room could be replaced for that.” Jonathan scowled at him.

“Well,” the manager stepped back, “perhaps not.”

“Let’s go take a look,” Tom said to the manager before turning back to Jonathan. “And you stay out of trouble.”

“Promise,” Jonathan said. “We’re off to the library. Not much trouble to be had there.”

Tom shook his head and headed out the door with Mr. Bigelow.

~*~

Amber’s jaw dropped when she opened the door to the library and walked inside. Every book that had once lined the shelves was stacked in the middle of the floor in towering columns.

“What happened in here?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know,” Amber said.

“Was it like this last night when you left?” Jonathan asked.

“No.” Amber walked further into the room and looked around in amazement. “Only the one shelf in back was toppled over, and those books that were scattered on the floor I stacked, but those were the only ones.”

“Jacques,” Jonathan said, “would this be something that Agnes would do?”

“Oui.”
Jacques nodded.

“Agnes?” Amber said. “Agnes Hawthorne, Agnes?”

“Yes, have you met?” Jacques asked.

“Ah, no,” Amber said, looking at him oddly. “But I did find this last night behind the fallen book shelf.” Amber pulled the diary out of her bag.

“She must have been searching all night for it.”

“You believe in the ghost?” Amber asked.

“Oui,” Jacques said.

“He’s psychic,” Jonathan added, and then groaned.
“Now what?”

“What?” Amber turned to see his mother coming up the steps.

“Quick, do something, and I’ll stall her,” he said.

“Do what?” Jacques asked.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan said as he went toward the door. “You said you were fast.”

“I am not that fast,” Jacques said, looking at all the books.

“Can you really see ghosts?” Amber asked intrigued.

“You could say that I existed in that dream state that so many people say is conducive to seeing beyond this one,” Jacques informed her.

“Hey, Mom,” Jonathan said. “I’m just going out to get some tools. Would you like to come with me?”

“I was just on my way inside to tell Amber that I spoke with the council and they want the library closed until you have secured all those shelves.” Mavis looked past him to the front door.

“How are you doing?” Jonathan asked her. “I know your morning was pretty rough.” Just as he said it, several books hit the front door.

“What was that?” Mavis asked.

Inside, both Amber and Jacques were hiding behind the counter as another barrage of books flew their way.

“Why is she doing this again?” Amber asked.

“She thinks you stole her diary and her man.”

“That’s preposterous!” Amber dodged an encyclopedia. “Please tell her I’ve never been here before.”

A big book hit Jacques when he stood. “She’s not listening,” he said when he ducked behind the counter again. “I’ve never seen her so upset.”

“Please, Agnes,” Amber yelled to the room at large. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what compelled me to take the book when I found it.” Amber reached up and set the diary on the counter. “See? I have returned it to you.”

The room had become silent as they waited. Soon a mass of blue hair came over the counter.

“Returned what?” Mavis stood on her tip-toes, looking over the counter at them. “Whatever are you two playing at?”

“I—we,” Jacques pointed at himself and then Amber, “were attacked.”

“By what?” Mavis asked, turning to look at the towers of books that decorated the space.

“A ghost,” Jacques said.

“But that’s preposterous!” Mavis said. “Next you are going to tell me that the silly ghost that supposedly haunted my ancestral home is real too.”

“I—” he paused, “would never suggest such a thing.”

“Who was throwing books?” Mavis demanded to know.

Amber looked from Jacques to Mavis and back again. After the last librarian found her way to the nut farm over such a declaration, she certainly wasn’t going to suggest it was a ghost.

Jonathan peered over the counter next. His eyes danced with laughter when he saw them hiding. “We had to clear the shelves in order to work on them,” he said to his mother, pulling her gently away. “It must have been the stack I made on the table by the door that fell.”

Jacques looked at Amber and shrugged. “Works for me,” he whispered. He stood up and offered her a hand up.

“Why did you make them all so tall?” Mavis turned to stare at the room.

“I guess we made a game out of the monotony of stacking them,” Jonathan said.

“I suppose I can understand that,” Mavis said skeptically.

“I won see?” He pointed to the tallest stack. “That’s mine.”

Amber could hardly believe the ease with which he lied.

“Did you want to stay and help?” Jonathan asked his mother.

Jacques gave him a look that suggested he’d gone insane to suggest it.

“I suppose I could,” Mavis said, “but I offered to make dinner for everyone tonight, and I still need to go to the market.”

“Pot roast?” Jonathan asked, but it sounded like a suggestion.

“Yes,” his mother said, “if that’s what you’d like.”

“Like?” Jonathan scoffed. “Mom, you know I
love
your pot roast.”

“Well, all right.” Mavis smiled happily. “Pot roast it is then.” She stepped around a pile of books on the floor and headed for the door. She paused. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here is a sign that says closed for repairs.”

“Thank you,” Amber said. “I’ll put it up right away.”

“I will see you all tonight, my dears.” Mavis waved goodbye as she left.

“That was quick thinking,” Jacques said when the door closed behind her.

“You’d better lock that,” Jonathan said to Amber, and then he turned to Jacques. “What the hell was that about?”

“Ah,” Jacques looked around the room then leaned close to whisper, “Agnes thought that Amber had stolen her book.”

“What book?” Jonathan looked at the diary on the counter and started to pick it up. “This?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d touch that if I were you,” Amber said as he did. She moved further back toward the door, not only to lock it, but to get out of the way of the flying books she was sure would come.

Jonathan opened the front cover noticing that Jacques backed away from him as well. Jonathan chuckled at how he kept his eye out for flying objects. He shook his head before turning a few pages. “Hmm,” he said.

“What’s hmm?” Jacques asked.

“She says something about knowing where a treasure is hidden.”

“
Non.
” Jacques pointed his finger. “You are trying to get me. I know this trick.”

“No, seriously.”
Jonathan spun the book around and pointed.

Jacques tried to read it from where he was.

“You can’t seriously be afraid of a little ghost.”

“She’s not so little,” Jacques said. A heavy bookend fell off the counter and landed on his foot when he said the last part. “Ouch!” He hopped on one foot while holding the toes of his other.

“Is she,” Amber looked around the room worriedly, “still angry?”

“I don’t think so,” Jonathan said. “
that is to say,” he looked at Jacques, “as long as you don’t insult her.”

“Or steal her book,” Jacques added, “or her man, she’ll be fine.”

“Steal her man?” Jonathan raised a brow, looking at Jacques who pointed at Amber.

“Yeah,” Amber giggled for the first time, “I know, Right?”

Jonathan found himself rather charmed, not only by the sound of her laughter, but by her lack of pretentiousness. Most the women he’d known had been more than assured in their lives that looks meant everything and that this somehow gave them some sort of entitlement.

“Oh no!
Talk about a man stealer,” Jacques said, looking out the door. “Here comes trouble . . . again!”

Jonathan turned to see none other than Patricia Parker coming up the walk outside. “You locked that, right?” Jonathan asked.

Amber nodded.

“What should we do?” Jacques asked.

“Hide,” Jonathan said, moving to a place where she couldn’t see him through the glass.

“Hide?” Jacques asked before ducking once again behind the counter.

Amber was between the two and in plain sight. She stared like a deer caught in the headlights as the busy bee came closer.

Jonathan reached out and pulled her toward him, stuffing her in the spot right in front of him. He leaned over her to peek around the corner, pressing his chest against her upper back.

He still had his hand on her arm. And as innocent as it was when he slid it down to her elbow, it felt like a lover’s caress, leaving behind a searing heat.
Don’t let your imagination run away here!
Amber told herself sternly. She took a deep calming breath
. There was nothing to it.

A shadow that darkened the doorway diminished the light coming in through it. Amber knew he was peering over her looking at the real goddess just outside, but that logical explanation didn’t register to the awakening feelings stirring within her body.

The heat and tension from the palm of his hand kept building.
There is nothing to it. . . . There is nothing to it.
Amber kept repeating over and over in her head, but his breath against the back of her neck sent goose bumps down to her toes.
There is nothing to it!
She closed her eyes, willing away the emotions that being this close to him brought.

Jonathan watched as Patricia turned around and left. He knew he could move away from the woman in front of him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. Somehow the feel of her felt so right. Even the smell of the pom-pom style pony tail that tickled his nose was euphoric. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. There was probably something wrong with him, but in that moment he didn’t even care.

“I think she is gone,” Jacques said popping up startling them both.

They opened their eyes in shock and parted like positive charged particles in opposite directions.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Jonathan said, rubbing his hands together briskly. “It shouldn’t take us long to replace all the broken locks on the tops of these shelves. Then we can help Amber put all these books back.” He looked back at Jacques.

Amber had decided the books that were scattered near the front desk needed immediate attention. “
Attraction is not love, Amber. You know that!”
She berated herself softy.

“I thought it was love, too, once long ago.”

Amber was startled by the disembodied voice she had heard. “Agnes?” she whispered.

“I’m here.” A transparent hand reached out towards her.

Amber scrambled back until she was pressed against the counter. “You are right not to trust any of them.”

“Who?”

“Men!” Agnes spat and disappeared.

“Are you alright?” Jonathan asked as he noticed her squashed up against the counter like something was about to bite her.

“I think I just saw her,” Amber squeaked.

“Really?”
Jonathan asked.

“She is enough to scare anyone.” Jacques nodded in understanding. A whole stack of books fell over on him, several bouncing off his head. “Ow!” he yelped. “You wouldn’t have dared before I had a body,” he said.

Amber looked at him oddly. “Before you had a body?”

“Uh—” Jacques realized his slip. “Past life joke,
non
? It’s a psychic thing.”

Jonathan and Jacques spent the next hour securing the book shelves and replacing the hardware that attached them while Amber tackled the stacks of books. It was getting close to noon when Patricia returned, carrying bags of lunch.

She knocked on the door. “Jonathan, I know you’re in there.”

“What should we do?” Amber asked in a whisper as Patricia peered through the glass.

“I don’t think she’s going to go away,” Jacques said. “Are those bags from Ben’s Juicy Burgers?” His stomach growled hungrily. “Maybe we should let her in.”

“You’re right.” Jonathan walked over to look. “She’ll just be there when we leave.”

“Oui.”
Jacques nodded. “We might as well have lunch.”

Amber couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They were both caving to their hunger, letting their stomachs rule.

“No—It’s not worth it,” Jonathan said stoically. “We must be strong. I’ll sneak out the back and bring burgers back.”