Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (17 page)

“I think we may have pulled this off,” Mavis whispered excitedly as she glanced at Amber and her son.

“I think it’s in the bag!” Katie smiled. She shut the door and joined the other ladies who were all sitting in the living room waiting to be served. “This is nice,” Katie said as she watched her husband cutting the cake while Harold served.

“How did you two meet?” Amber asked.

“On the Rivera,” Katie sighed. “You really must go there sometime. It is so romantic.

“What about you two?” Amber asked Jessie.

Jessie laughed. “We actually first met right here in this room. Aunt Katie had asked me to keep an eye on this place while she toured Italy.”

“Really?”
Amber asked. “So Jacques was a guest here?”

“Oui!”
Jacques said as he carried a tray into the living room. “I think I must have the record for being here the longest time.”

Amber listened as the couples chatted about their days. She glanced occasionally at Jonathan who seemed lost in his coffee and cake. She was starting to worry about her attachment to him. Never had she yearned for someone to
share her life with like this before, but then again she’d never had a life that she could share.

Jonathan could barely look at her without staring. It was far better if he just focused on his cake. He looked up, catching her glance before she quickly looked away, and he found himself hoping Harold’s love potion actually worked.

Both the older couples said their goodnights, leaving the younger ones to finish their desserts.

“Do you remember Agnes from the library?” Jacques asked his wife. “You know the one who emptied the shelves that fateful day you were kicked out of the library.”

“You would
have
to remind me.” Jessie laughed.

“Well . . . she has made her presence known again,” Jacques said.

“What did she do?” Jessie asked.

“We walked in today and found every book in the place stacked in tall towers.”

“You’re kidding,” Jessie said. “Why did she do that?”

“She was searching for the diary she had hidden there when she was still alive,” Jonathan said. “Amber found it the other night after the bookshelf fell over.”

Jacques nodded. “The old gal tore the place apart looking for it.”

“I feel so bad now,” Amber said. “I never would have taken it if I’d known it held that type of meaning for her . . . or that she was even real for that matter.”

“Is she the first ghost you’ve encountered?” Jessie asked.

Amber nodded with big eyes. “Yes.”

“I know the first time I saw a ghost I was worried I had lost my sanity,” Jessie said.

“I feel bad that the last librarian wasn’t believed,” Amber said.

“Don’t,” Jonathan said. “She wasn’t very nice.”

“Like bad karma,” Jacques said, “it really can come back to haunt you!”

“She’s the one that kicked me out of the library because she thought I’d pulled some books off the shelves in back,” Jessie said.

“She really kicked you out?” Amber asked, hardly able to imagine the incident.

Jessie nodded. “It was the day Mavis gave me a makeover—the one that started when her doggie peed in my house shoes.”

“She has certainly improved in that department lately,” Jonathan said with a grin. “I remember your hair that day.” He chuckled.

Jessie laughed. “I’m glad the old librarian has her diary back now.”

“Oh, that was only half the story,” Jonathan said.

Jessie looked at her husband.

“It was not me,” Jacques said innocently.
“Although, had I known at the time, it could have been.”

“Known what?” Jessie asked him, but it was Jonathan who answered.

“Apparently, the diary tells of how to find Theodore Bancroft’s treasure.”

“Theodore Bancroft’s?”
Jessie repeated the name, looking at her Jacques as if this answered everything. “I see.”

“So where did it go?” Jessie asked.

“Patricia took it,” Jacques said.

“Patricia Parker?” Jessie looked at Jonathan.

“She stopped by with lunch, sniffing around for any information she could get about the attack the other night,” Jonathan said. “She left in a hurry and picked up the book with sacks of food by accident.”

“I hope she didn’t throw it away,” Jessie said.

Jacques suffered a mild attack of anxiety when she said it. “
Sacre bleu!
I did not think of this!” He looked like he was just barely holding back from biting his knuckles.

“Why don’t you just call and have her return it. . . . That is if she does have it.” Jessie asked.

Jacques looked at Jonathan eagerly and then at the clock in the entry. “It is still too early I think for the . . . thing.”

“What thing?” Jessie asked, looking at her husband oddly. “It’s ten o’clock,” Jessie said, “that’s not early.”

Jonathan gave him a disgruntled look. “I think what he was meaning to say is it’s too early for me to talk to her because she left mad at me.”

“That’s it. That’s the thing.” Jacques nodded, but his wife looked at him like she knew something was up.

“I wish we could get it for Agnes,” Amber said. “She is heartbroken without it.”

Jacques looked heartbroken, too, but Jessie suspected it was over his lost treasure.

“Did you read it?” Jessie asked.

“Yes,” Amber said.

Jacques shot forward eagerly on the sofa. “Where is the treasure?”

“I cannot tell you that,” Amber said. “The clues were written in the lines of a bizarre poem.”

“Augh! Theodore and his damn poems!” Jacques said. “Sorry.” He waved his hand. “Please continue.”

“That is it,” Amber said.

“You don’t remember the poem?” Jacques asked crestfallen.

“I’m sorry,” Amber said. Truth was last night she hadn’t really been paying attention to what she read. Her mind had been on other things . . . the man next to her for one, and where she would go for another.

“I wonder how she came by it in the first place.” Jessie said.

“That I can tell you,” Amber said, garnering everyone’s rapt attention once again. Something she wasn’t all that comfortable with. She made sure to keep from looking at Jonathan. “She was a governess to the children here before she became the librarian. She found it one day tucked into the desk that had once belonged to Theodore, but had been moved to the school room at a later date.”

“So she stole it?” Jacques asked, looking shocked. “I cannot believe that old, cranky, paragon of virtue would do such a thing!”

“Her beau at the time insisted she tell no one and convinced her it would give them the chance to start a new life,” Amber said.

“The old goat fell for that one?” Jacques harrumphed.

“Honey,” Jessie nudged him with her hand on his knee.

“I think Agnes has tormented herself for falling prey to his deception more than anyone else possibly could,” Amber said. “I don’t readily recall the details of the poem, but I do remember the gist of her story. He assured her that they had every right to the ill-gotten gains of a pirate.”

“Humph!” Jacques said.

“She gave him the clues and waited while he went in search of the treasure. She even secretly made plans to marry, but became worried when he didn’t return. Weeks later, when he finally did come back, she snuck into his lodgings, only to find him packing, so she confronted him.”

“Did he find it?” Jessie asked.

“He swore he had.” Amber nodded. “He even gave her a gold doubloon to prove it.”

“A doubloon?”
Jacques asked.

“Yes,” Amber said. “She sewed it into the lining of her diary.”

“Was it in the book? Did you see it?” Jacques asked.

“The leather was quite thick,” Amber said.

Jessie rolled her eyes at her husband. “You and your treasure.” She shook her head, looking at Amber. “Please go on. What happened next?”

“She begged him not to go again, but he told her that just one more trip would make them wealthier than they had ever dreamed.”

“What did I tell you?” Jacques asked.

Amber nodded, daring a glance in Jonathan’s direction. He was so handsome that it was hard to pull her gaze away. She looked down at the cake in her lap and noticed a little arm sticking out. “What is this?” She pulled a little doll from her piece of cake.

“You get the luck!” Jessie said. “And to be queen.”

“And a wish,” Jonathan said.

“A wish?” Amber questioned it.

“But don’t tell us, or it won’t come true,” Jessie said. “Close your eyes too.”

Amber closed her eyes. The words wouldn’t form in her mind, but a vision did.
She was with him!
Amber opened her eyes and looked right into Jonathan’s.

“Did she say anything else about the treasure?” Jacques asked.

“He told Agnes that he had hidden part of it, but there was so much he had to go back to get the rest–” Amber started.

“Ah-hah!”
Jacques threw his hand up. “See? It is close. I can almost smell it!”

“Would you stop interrupting?” Jessie asked.

“Unfortunately, when he left that night, it was the last she ever saw of him. . . . He disappeared forever,” Amber said. “Agnes vowed never to love again when she realized how he had used her. She recognized he must have left her.”

“Who was this man?” Jacques asked.

“She never named him,” Amber said.

“That really is sad,” Jessie said with a yawn.

“Tired?” Jacques asked, “You’ve had a long day.”

“I have.” Jessie nodded. “I’m sorry to be a party pooper but tomorrow
is my day off. Maybe I can go with you to the library and help out.”

“I’d like that,” Amber said, watching as they left. She knew she should leave too. March right up those stairs to bed, avoid the man who invaded her every thought and wish . . . and never know love, or have a life.
Should I stay or should I go?

“Are you tired?” Jonathan asked her.

She found that he’d been watching her as she had held her great debate.

“You look like you’re troubled,” Jonathan said. “I can help you know.”

She knew he wasn’t offering the kind of help she was thinking of . . . she smiled and looked away.

“What’s so funny?”

Oh, no!
Amber thought.
He is not dragging that out of me!
“It’s been quite the day.”

“Not every day you befriend a ghost and learn to skate.” He grinned.

“Exactly,” Amber said.

“This is a good song,” he said. “Do you dance?”

“Oh, no!” Amber said.

“Oh, no, I don’t dance,” Jonathan asked as he stood, “or just, oh no?”

“Both,” Amber said as she followed his movement. He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

Amber swallowed.

“C’mon,” Jonathan said, smiling even broader.

Amber shook her head slowly.

“Oh, baby, it’s so c-c-c-cold–it’s freezin' outside.” He started adding his own twist to the words as he started swaying to the music. “C’mon,” he said.

Amber’s hand lifted to his, and in the next moment she was in his arms, swaying slowly to the music. She reached up, placing her hand on his shoulder while the other was still neatly tucked into his. She could feel his chest pressed against hers with the palm of his other hand on her lower back.

It felt safe, it felt intimate . . . it felt like home.

“I
really have to go away,” he teased, using a higher voice. “But, b-b-b-baby,” he crooned, “it’s so c-c-c-cold outside.” He used a much lower one.

She wanted to laugh, thinking of how very close that resembled her circumstance . . . and realizing that she didn’t want to go. Amber looked up into his face, trying to memorize every curve, every line. . . .

Jonathan held her closer still as he watched her. They continued to sway to the music, gazing into each other’s eyes until he slowly lowered his head.

She felt his lips brush hers softly. The pressure increased as her head tipped back further, and her right heel came up off the floor. She felt a flutter in her belly
that made her heart feel like bursting with sparkling energy . . . or at least it felt that way.

Jonathan lifted his head, his body still swimming with the sensation of her lips on his. He felt like running across the lawn and kicking his heels up, but the knowledge that what was happening might very well be from the love potion made him lift his head up rather than kiss her again.

“You are so very lovely,” Jonathan said, realizing that no other woman could compare to the one in his arms.

Crash—Bam!

Jonathan looked up and saw an old man in a diaper go flying across the porch and roll into the door. He immediately placed Amber behind him, watching as Jacques appeared, holding what must have been the old man’s butt flap.