Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (23 page)

“I’m sure that is no way to talk to your father,” Jonathan said.
“If I am him.” He looked at his watch. “I put my truck and my mother’s car in the shop earlier. They should both be ready to pick up soon, and then I need to chase some sparks in the library attic. Are you game?”

“You want me to come to work with you?” Eros asked.

“What I need is to keep an eye on you,” Jonathan said, “and your mother-uh- Amber wants to finish putting the library back together.

“What happened to the library?” Eros asked as he innocently
held his hands up. “And just so you know, I didn’t do anything to it. That cranky ghost had a mind of her own.”

Jonathan lifted a brow.

“I need to return this book,” Jacques said as he put the diary on the table next to the arrows.

“Looks a little overdue,” Harold said as he considered its state.

“A trifle,
oui?
” Jacques grinned. “There are a few pages I was hoping to scan here in the back,” he said as he opened it up. Several pages fell out. He stuffed them back inside.

Harold carefully slid it closer to him and methodically turned a few pages. “I hope there wasn’t anything of importance here.” It had taken three bullets. One was still embedded, another had gone straight through the center, and the other had taken the corner off.

Jacques pointed out the poem pieces. “This is the part I need copied.”

“All right,” Harold said. “I’ll see what I can do. René is the one with the talent for this.”

“Did he Photoshop that old photo in the newspaper of Amber?” Jacques asked.

“Indeed,” Rene said as he came up the ladder. “And it is pixel perfect if I do say so myself.”

“You don’t print money off that thing do you?” Jonathan asked.

“Of course not,” Rene said.
“Only stocks and bonds.” At their shocked looks, he said, “I am kidding.” He laughed. “At my age, I have learned the art of Swiss banking.”

~*~

“There we are now,” Jacques said as he placed Agnes’s diary on the library counter and patted the sides together. “Good as new.”

A bookend fell off a shelf and hit him on the foot.

“Ouch!” Jacques danced around. “Is this what I get for risking life and limb in order to return your diary to you?”

“Like your treasure, I’m sure it was nothing,” Agnes replied.

“Augh!” Jacques said, insulted to his core. “I’ll have you know that I was shot at!” He limped further away to a safer distance. “Which is a little more dangerous for me now,” he said.

“He really was,” Eros said to the air. “You should have seen him running back and forth across that lawn, with an old man wearing a butt flap shooting at him.”

“I wish that I had seen that,” Agnes said, surprising Amber and Eros both.

“You ungrateful woman!”
Jacques shook his fist at her and then pointed at Eros. “And you’re a fine one to talk about old men and butt flaps.”

Jonathan stood back and watched. “What did she say?”

“You didn’t hear her?” Eros asked.

“Would I ask if I had?” Jonathan replied sarcastically, receiving a
look
from Amber. He turned away to climb the ladder, grumbling about momma bears and their cubs.

Amber looked at Eros and said, “I wish you two would try to get along.”

Eros smiled broadly. “You don’t know how many times you’ve asked that do you?”

“I’m beginning to think it was a few,” Amber said, handing him some books. “Help me with these.”

“You really know how to torture someone.” Eros groaned.

“Would you rather assist your father with the wiring and crawl around the attic?” By his expression she could tell he would.
“Fine then.”

Jacques watched him go. “It is nice to have a family again,
oui?
”

Amber nodded. “I’m just now beginning to feel as though I am living life again.” She smiled at him. “I wish I could remember though.”

Jacques nodded in understanding. “You must have loved him deeply to want to escape your anguish.” Jacques looked around the library and then said, “I am afraid that if we don’t return the golden apple, this Hera will always seek to pull you apart.”

Amber nodded. “I worry more about people who want the secret to immortality tearing us apart.”

“Eros thinks that Hera is somehow involved in that too. And that she will continue to bring strife wherever you go.” He sighed. “If only we had the poem, we might be able to find my treasure or a clue as to where that young man may have taken it.”

“I cannot believe that I ever let my vanity
lead to a war in which so many were lost,” Amber said sadly.

Jacques had been trying to get to Agnes not Amber. “Oh my, you must not be sad,” Jacques said as a tear slipped down her cheek. “We can all grow and become better people. I know that it wasn’t until Jessie came into my life that love showed me the way. Now I have Jonathan and Eros, sons that I love with all my heart.” Jacques looked at her. “I am a changed man.”

He handed her a tissue and patted her back. “You found out the hard way what losing love can be like. We all understand this,
oui?”
Jacques sighed. “You cannot keep punishing yourself for mistakes you made in the past. What is important is what you do with your life now.” He patted her some more. “We can make this right.”

Agnes blew her nose nearby, startling him.

Jonathan came back down the ladder with Eros right behind him and saw Amber in tears. “What happened?” he asked as he came forward in concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, enfolding her in his arms. “I promise to go easier on the kid.”

Amber laughed at him.

“Good.” He smiled. “All better,” he said and kissed her nose.

“Whoa!” Eros called out as he changed into a cherub and fell down the rungs. Jonathan scrambled to catch him, hitting the floor as the little one flew through his arms, did summersaults in the air, and hovered over him with a big grin.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” Jonathan said.

Eros changed back into a teenaged version of
himself and offered him a hand up. “You think I’m cute?”

“Adorable,” Jonathan said with a scowl. “Just, please, don’t do that again. . . .”

“That, father, is entirely up to you,” Eros said with his eyebrows raised.

“I have made up my mind,” Agnes said. “I will help you find the treasure. If I make my own mistakes right, then perhaps I, too, will find peace.”

“All right!” Jacques shouted. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”
Jonathan asked, looking at him as though his outburst was a bit outlandish, even for him.

“Didn’t you hear?” Jacques asked, patting his shoulder.
“To get my treasure!”

“Why is it that I never hear or see the ghosts?” Jonathan groaned.

“Maybe you have to believe in them first,” Amber said. “Or at least be open to the idea that things of the supernatural exist.”

“That can’t be it,” Jonathan said. “I don’t believe in Cupid, but I have no problem seeing old men in diapers.”

Amber smiled at him, taking his hand in hers. “Let’s go find Jacques’s treasure.”

Jessie met them on the stairs as they came inside. “Did I miss being able to help?” she asked. “That emergency call took a while longer than I expected.”

“Of course not,” Jacques said. “In fact, your timing is perfect. We are just now going to find my treasure.”

“Your treasure?” Jessie asked. “Agnes agreed to help?”

“Shh,” Jacques said in a whisper. “She thinks it is her idea.” An acorn from the tree overhead hit him on the shoulder.

“Where are we headed then?” Jacques asked Agnes.

The ghost cleared her throat and recited the poem from memory.

“Where the red horse meets the yellow river, and the wild wolf howls. The bear will sleep deep within the bowels as the dark storm gathers. The tskïlï' spreads its great wings as the little sparrow hides against the broken arrow.”

“Well now, there is a lovely sentiment.” Jacques
sighed his disgust.

When Agnes said no more, he did a double take. “Wait, that’s it? Jacques asked.

“Yes.” She nodded.

Jessie had scribbled the poem down on the notepad she carried and handed it to Jonathan.

“I can’t believe I was shot at for that,” Jacques said. “I mean . . .” he looked at Agnes, “I’m so glad you have your little book back now.”

“What do you think it means?” Jonathan asked.

Jacques shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“My Sterling never had a problem with it,” Agnes said.

“Is Sterling the name of your beau?” Amber asked.

“Sterling Running Creek and I were going to be married,” Agnes said. “We needed the money so that we could go somewhere and build a new life. We hoped to find a place that was far enough away that my father could never reach us.”

“I’m sorry,” Amber said.

“Me too,” Jessie said. “It must have been difficult to love someone that society wouldn’t allow you to be with.”

“Ours was a forbidden love.” Agnes nodded sadly.

“Um—so do we, or don’t we know where we are going?” Jonathan asked.

“Red Horses?” Jessie said. “Didn’t the Celts use colored horses to indicate cardinal points?”

“The Indians didn’t have horses until the Spaniards brought them,” Agnes explained. “So they would not have referred to something as ancient as the cardinal points by that name.”

“That makes sense,” Jessie said.

“Instead, it was an unusual blue fish with red spots that suddenly showed up in the rivers that they called red horse,” Agnes said.

“So, red horse refers to the fish in the stream,” Jacques clarified. “See, I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“It is the dark storm that gathers that is the cardinal point,” Agnes said.

“North?” Jacques asked.

“West,” Agnes said.
“To a place where the indigenous people used to call Wolf’s Bend. There is a creek with such fish. They were named red horses after the bird.”

“Again,” Jacques said, “I wouldn’t have seen that coming.”

“The bear sleeps in the cave,” Agnes said.

“Now that one I could have gotten,” Jacques said.

Jessie googled the info. “You are not going to believe this.”

“What?” Jacques asked.

“According to this, there is only one cave in Louisiana, and it’s called Wolf Rock Cave,” she said.

“It can’t be that easy,” Jacques said.

“And you would be right,” Agnes said. “The great horned owl, the
tskïlï',
was considered the embodiment of ghosts. From there at night we must find where the little sparrow hides against the broken arrow.”

~*~

“There you are,” Patricia said as she spun her computer monitor around. “Wolf Rock Cave, Kisatchie National Forest.”

“You are good,” Joseph said.

Patricia shrugged. “This was child’s play.”

“If what you said about their abilities is true, we are going to need some insurance.”

“Insurance?” Patricia asked.

“I need you to make a few copies of those photos you have,” Joseph said.

~*~

“You received a call from Patricia too?” Gloria asked Mavis when she arrived at the parking garage.

“She said she needed to talk with me,” Mavis said, looking at both Gloria and Katie. “She said she had information that held dire consequences for my family.”

“What do you think it might be?” Katie said.

“It is probably over Amber and Eros,” Mavis said.

The sound of high-heels echoed as a figure in a trench coat came out of the shadows. “I’m so glad you came,” Patricia said. “I received these photos in the mail and was sure I needed to show you first.” She handed them each an envelope and waited while they opened them.

“I don’t understand,” Mavis said, looking at a picture of Jonathan straightening some dents out of a cop car. The next one showed him lifting one. “Are these Photoshopped?”

Gloria held a photo of her daughter with a semi-transparent version of her husband next to her while Katie held an image of herself with her husband whose reflection didn’t register.

“Where did get you these?” Gloria asked.

“She took them,” Katie said. “I remember when this one was taken and who was in the room at the time. You must have used a cell phone to take this photo.”

“What do you want?” Mavis asked.

“The truth,” Patricia said as a dark van pulled up. “Won’t you please come with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Gloria said.

“I was afraid you might say that,” Patricia said as a man got out of the vehicle and held a gun on them.

“Be so good as to collect their purses,” he said.