Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (14 page)

“No, that scoundrel has been around for well over a hundred and fifty years, perhaps longer,” Agnes replied.

Amber looked at the two of them together. “Really?”

Jonathan made it to the bench with Jacques in tow just as she asked it. “Now you’ve earned your burger,” he said to Jacques.

“Whose idea was this bucket list thing anyway?” Jacques asked when he’d made it safely to the bench. “And did they survive it?”

~*~

Amber walked up to the library amidst Jonathan’s laughter as he teased Jacques about his athletic ability. “Now that was about as uncoordinated as it comes!”

“I’ll have you know that not only was I as large as you are in my day, but I could also wield a rapier better than any other man and was actually accurate on occasion with a musket gun, which is actually saying something.”

“There you go again off on a tangent. No wonder people think you’re an alien,” Jonathan said when he noticed Amber listening to the exchange. He looked at Jacques. “Would you like to explain?” he asked.

That is to say,” Jacques looked somewhat appalled by his slip, “I sometimes pretend to be from another time.”

Amber was starting to think Agnes had really told her the truth as she considered him. “Why?”

“Ah—” He folded his arms and tapped his mouth.

Jonathan looked at Jacques’s rather dramatic stance and replied, “It’s part of his theater training.”

“That’s it,” Jacques said, nodding at Amber who couldn’t help but chuckle at the two. The realization that she’d laughed more in the last hour than in the last century did occur to her as she opened the door for the trio.

Who would have thought that she’d be having the time of her life with an wannabe pirate, a ghost, and . . . she looked a Jonathan. She hadn’t quite made her mind up about what he reminded her of. She knew he was a fierce fighter from the way he had stood in front of her that night in the park. He’d proven himself to be manipulative, but this seemed more of a tactical advantage to protect others. She’d say Superman, but he couldn’t fly . . . unless he was on skates.

The next few hours passed quickly. Jonathan and Amber worked on replacing the books on one side of the library while Jacques secured the bookshelves that lined the other.

“I’m grateful that Agnes kept these books in alphabetical order,” Jonathan said while handing Amber a hand full of books from the stack. “At first I thought this was going to take forever.”

“It’s not in her to not do it,” Amber said. “No true librarian could destroy the order. It’s ingrained.”

“Is it ingrained in you?” he asked, looking up at her.

She looked down at him and was caught off guard by the question. “I suppose.” She thought about it for a moment.

He’d seen a fire in her, a passion earlier when they had skated together and later when she had tilted her head back and laughed. Jonathan didn’t know where her strict sense of discipline had come from. He supposed out of necessity. He’d met enough people who were disconnected from their lives through the witness protection program to understand the separation from the rest of society that they felt.

“Where is it?” Agnes’s voice was whispered on the whirlwind that went through the middle of the library. Several books went flying, making Jacques dive for cover.

“Where is what?” Jacques yelled.

“Calm down,” Jonathan said in a soothing voice. “What has happened?”

“My diary, where did it go?” Agnes wailed.

“I put it on the counter,” Amber said, “remember?”

Jacques threw his hands up in dismay. “Again with the book?” He shook his head in disgust. “You would think it was a priceless treasure.”

Amber could tell by the sound of her voice that Agnes was distraught. “Where is it?” she cried as though she’d lost her most precious possession.

“What is in this book that is so important?” Jonathan asked.

“It was the last thing I had left of my love,” Agnes cried.

He looked to Jacques to interpret, who asked instead, “You had a love?” A metal bookend flew through the air and hit him. “Ow.” He rubbed his arm. “That was dirty.”

Amber stepped forward. “Of course, she had a love.” She looked at Jonathan and said, “It is the last thing she had of him.” Amber continued to listen intently to the ghostly spinster.

Jonathan waited, noticing that Jacques suddenly perked up over something that was said.

Amber turned to him and said, “He went away after she told him of the treasure, and he never came back. She felt rejected and used and never loved again, yet she still pines away for her lost love.”

“What treasure?” Jacques asked her.

“It was of no consequence,” Agnes said.

“It was just a tale of the treasure which once belonged to one of the founding fathers of this community,” Amber said, having read it.

“Which founding father?”
Jacques asked. Jonathan looked on, trying to make out what was going on despite the fact he couldn’t hear Agnes.

Jacques almost fell off the bookcase when she answered him.
“Non!”
he said.

“What
?” Jonathan wanted to know.

“You
knew?” Jacques pointed at Agnes. “After all this time and
you
knew where my. . . . I mean, where Theodore Bancroft’s treasure was?” Jacques looked around the room. “We need to find her book!” he said as he climbed down the ladder.

“The treasure is of no consequence,” Agnes said.

Jonathan watched as Jacques’s expression changed from excitement to one of shock. “What is it?” Jonathan asked.

Insulted, Jacques stepped back. “No consequence,” he sputtered. “I’ll have you know that my treasure was one of the finest ever amassed. I was the scourge of seven seas, plundered hundreds of ships, and took the gold from not one,” he held up his fingers, “but three Spanish galleons!”

“He really gets into his character,” Amber said as she watched him.

“Yeah, and apparently you just never know when the mood will strike.” Jonathan nudged Jacques as he said it. “He must be in one of
those trance like things.”

Jacques played at looking confused. “I must have channeled the ghost of Theodore,” he said dramatically.

“Or Errol Flynn,” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes.

“I thought it believable myself,
non?”
Jacques straightened his shirt.

“Let’s just say that I wouldn’t quit your day job,” Jonathan said.

“It is sad, isn’t it?” Amber asked, watching Agnes sitting in the middle of the library crying softly. It reminded her of last night when she’d first heard it. “She lost her love, and the book is her only link to him.”

“Is that why she is so attached to her diary?” Jonathan asked.

“Words can be a powerful tie,” Amber said, “or rather the feelings behind them.”

“I see,” Jonathan said, nodding in understanding.

“She loved the man, and this diary is where she poured her heart out. It has the emotion and the power to keep her here, and now it is gone.”

“We’ll get it back,” Jonathan said.

~*~

“Great meal, Mom,” Jonathan said, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he glanced across the table at all the family and friends gathered. They had moved a lot of the chairs from the kitchen into the dining room in order to seat everyone.

“Hmm-hmm,” Charlene agreed with a nod. “Just like my momma used to make.”

“You’ve lost your mother?” Gloria asked.

“No, she just is on that Lean Cuisine diet now,” Charlene said. “I used to go over there after my shift for sausage, bacon, and pancakes, and now all she does is fix those protein shakes in the mornings.” She sighed. “She’s lost nearly forty pounds though.”

“That’s wonderful,” Gloria said. “I may try that.”

“We could do it together,” Mavis suggested.

“Me three,” Katie chimed in.

“But you are perfect darling,” René said, joining them for the meal.

“Oh, aren’t you sweet,” Katie said to her new husband. They leaned together and pecked a kissed.

“Can you cook?” Jonathan turned and asked Harold who was sitting next to him.

“I know how to operate a can opener,” he replied.

“What about you?” Jonathan looked over at Jacques.

“I am learning,” he said. “I made macaroni and cheese the other day.”

“So that is what was stuck to the bottom of that pan,” Katie said. “I thought Harold was using the cooking pots for his experiments again.”

Jacques chuckled. “I was soaking it.”

“René, what about you?” Jonathan asked.

“Eggs,” he said. “I can crack eggs and bake a soufflé.”

“Good, we’ve got it covered.” Jonathan looked at both Jacques and Harold who were starting to realize their eating habits may change drastically with the ladies new diet plan. “I can make toast.”

Jessie walked in as he said it. “I’m so glad to be home.” She put her coat and purse down and stepped into the dining room.

“I put a plate in the oven for you, sweetie,” Gloria said.

“Sit here.” Jacques stood, sliding the chair next to him out. “I will get it for you.”

“Thank you,” Jessie said as she sat down. “I had a last minute emergency.” She smiled. “I had to help deliver three puppies.”

“Aw,” Charlene said. “What kind are they?”

“Pugs.”

“I’ve always wanted a pug,” Charlene said. “But I hear you have to be home more than we are.” She looked at her husband who was busily chewing.”

“No, no dogs,” he said around the bite.

Jacques returned with his wife’s dinner and served it in a manner befitting the best maître de, complete with the towel over his arm bit. She laughed, kissing his cheek when he sat down beside her.

Jonathan watched as Amber smiled over Jacques’s antics. She even smiled back at him when she noticed him watching her. It was a huge difference from this morning’s reaction. He winked back, glad she was finally letting her guard down a little. He noticed a slight blush come to her cheeks, so he looked away.

Grrrrr
!

A low growl emanated from somewhere beneath the table.

Jacques took a peek under the table cloth. “Ah, it looks like Elvis has just met his match.”

A white fur ball darted out beneath Amber’s feet and ran up the stairs. “I’m sorry,” Amber said. “I will have to lock her in since she knows how to open doors.”

“Oh, don’t’ worry about that,” Katie said as Elvis came out from under the table and sat looking up to the second floor. “This house is big enough for the both of them.”

Hissss
!
Kisses looked down through the banister at the big black cat.

“You must give it time, Elvis,” René said to the kitty who came back to brush against his leg.

“All right,” Katie said. “You boys need to find something to do until ten o’clock so that we can have some girl time. Then we can all have some dessert. I made a four layer King cake in honor of Marti Gras.”

“I hear the game is playing on the big screen at Flannigan’s Bar and Grill,” Hank said.

“I’m there,” Jonathan said.

“Count me in.” Jacques nodded.

“Go on and join them,” Gloria said to her husband Harold. “You’re going to turn into the nutty professor if you don’t get out.”

“Too late,” Jonathan joked.
“René, what about you? Will you join us?”

“I would be delighted,” René said. “The first round is on me.”

“Now we’re talking.” Hank grinned.

~*~

“Now we are talking,” Charlene said. She sat back on the sofa with her hair in a towel, her feet in a soak, and a mask on her face, sipping on a glass of champagne.

“This is the life,” Jessie added. Having been talked into joining the party as one of the guinea pigs, she had a head full of foil strips, a mask, and cucumbers on her eyes. “Are you sure this will wash out, Mom?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Gloria assured her. “You’ll have pink streaks in your hair for two weeks tops.”

“We get to do this to you ladies for Mother’s Day,” Charlene said.

“And we’ll let you,” Katie said as she painted Amber’s nails red.

Amber sported the same mask and cucumber look that both Jessie and Charlene were wearing, but the gel in her hair was blue, and the tinfoil strips made it look like she was reaching out for contact with another species on Venus.

“As soon as my nails dry,” Charlene said, “I’m going for another little sliver of cheese cake.”

“I want another chocolate dipped strawberry,” Jessie said.

“All done,” Katie said, examining her handiwork.

“That looks good,” Gloria said. “I think you do better work than the nail salon.”

“You think so?” Katie asked.

“You know we should do weddings,” Gloria said.

“Here is another tray of chocolate dipped yummies.” Gloria offered the selection to everyone before setting them on the coffee table. “Are you ready for another glass of bubbly, Amber?”