Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (9 page)

“You know that Jonathan’s mother gave me a makeover once,” Jessie said.

“She what?”
Charlene giggled. “Don’t tell me.”

“She did.” Jessie nodded. “I came back sporting a beehive hairdo that stood about a foot high.”

“Ahh!” Charlene snorted with laughter that had Amber chuckling.

Amber caught Jonathan looking at her through the window. When he winked and nodded, she glanced away quickly, feeling her pulse race and a blush stain her cheeks.

“It took hours to comb out!” Jessie said. “ . . . and the dress! You should have seen it! A light blue polyester number.”

“No, no,” Charlene gasped.
“Stop! I’m going pee my pants!”

They all dissolved into giggles.

Crash!

“What was that?” Charlene asked.

“It’s garbage day,” Jessie said. “Maybe the truck is early.”

Jonathan continued to watch her, noticing how embarrassed she’d become by his attention. She had a really cute nose he decided. He was startled out of his assessment of her by the fuzzy white kitty who hopped up onto his lap and then the table.

Jacques leaned back out of striking distance of the frisky feline who sat looking at the gentlemen gathered around. Both Tom and Bob stared back with varying degrees of surprise.

“You let the cats sit on the table?” Bob asked. He looked like he now questioned his choice of fine dining establishments. He reached over to pick her up.

“Oh, I would not do that if I were you,” Jacques said.

“Why is that?” he asked, receiving the answer from the source.
“Dang!” He jerked back his hand. “That’s a. . . .”

“Himalayan,” Jessie supplied as she came inside and picked up the cat and a coffee pot. “They are very sensitive cats. You can’t just maul them,” she said on her way back outside.”

“I’m the one who got mauled,” Bob called after her.

Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong
!

Gloria shook her head in disbelief at the frantic ringing of the doorbell.

“Seems word got out about your sweet rolls, Gloria,” Bob said as she left to answer it.

She found Mavis standing outside on the front porch holding her purse and dog. “Why didn’t you just come around back?” Gloria said as she opened the door, noticing for the first time the stricken expression Mavis wore. “Good heavens, what’s wrong?”

“I just ran into the back of a Pinto,” Mavis cried. “Oh dear, do you think it’s one of those models that will explode?”

“I—” Gloria started. “You’d better come in.”

“I can’t,” Mavis said. “I don’t want anyone to think I’ve run from the crime.”

“No one would think that.”

“The owner of the Pinto might, and the police are already on the scene.” She pointed at the squad car parked behind the blue Pinto.

Gloria craned her neck to see. It looked like Mavis had backed her car up into the Pinto which had then hit the police car.

Mavis fished through her purse. “Here, hold this for me,” she whispered, handing Gloria a bottle of liquid daytime cold medicine. “I don’t want to be caught with this on me. They might assume I’ve been under the influence.”

“Mavis, sweetheart,” Gloria said. “It’s going to be just fine. No one is going to think that.” She watched as Mavis’s chin trembled. “Oh, now, I’ll just get Jonathan, and we’ll get this straightened out in a jiff,” she said. “Besides, everyone that you need to speak to is here. Please come in. The owner of the car, as well as the officer, is inside.”

“Oh.” Mavis danced a little nervous hop. “I just couldn’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Gloria said, handing her a tissue from the box on the entry table. “It’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Mavis blew her nose into the tissue. “I’ll just stay right here and wait for Jonathan.”

“Well, okay. I’ll be right back.” Gloria hurried back to the kitchen. “Jonathan, your mother is at the front door and wishes to speak with you,” she said as casually as possible.

“Why didn’t she just come around back?” he asked.

Gloria made her way over to the counter to an area where both Tom and Bob had their backs to her. She tossed her head in the direction of the door with a look that told Jonathan not to ask any more questions.

When Tom turned to look back at her, she said, “Now, where did I put the coffee pot?”

“It’s still outside,” Jacques supplied.

“Oh, that’s right.” Gloria nodded, going out to retrieve it. “It looks like I need to make another.”

Jonathan found his mother on the front porch looking like she’d just committed the worst crime imaginable. “Mom, what’s the matter?”

“Oh, Jonathan, I have just totaled a Pinto and bashed a police car,” she wailed as he stepped outside.

“You what?” he asked, looking out at the street where the vehicles had been pushed into the road.

“I have just totaled a—” she began again.

“I heard you, Mom, I just doubted my ears,” Jonathan said.

“What am I to do?” Mavis said. “I’m going to go to jail.”

“Mom, it’s going to be fine. I know the owner of the Pinto, and I can work this out.”

“What about the police car?” she whispered in a high voice.

“Listen to me,” Jonathan said. “I’ve known Tom since grade school. He’s a reasonable man.”

“That’s Tom Snider’s car?” She looked ill as she
asked it.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” he lied, looking out at the street. The Pinto had received the worst of it and resembled an accordion.

“Oh.” She wrung her hands.

“I want you to go back inside and not worry,” Jonathan said.

“What are you going to do?” his mom asked worriedly when Gloria stepped outside with them.

“See, I told you everything is going to be alright,” Gloria said. “Jonathan will take a look.”

“I’m afraid you can’t un-ring
that
bell,” Mavis said as her doggie licked her chin. She moved her face out of reach and adjusted him a little lower.

“You never know until you try,” Jonathan said optimistically. “Why don’t you go back inside with Gloria and have a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll while I look at it.”

“That Pinto is demolished . . . and the police car is. . . . Oh, dear!” Mavis sniffed.

Jonathan glanced back at it. “Oh, I don’t know . . . only the blue car looks like crinkled tin foil.”

His comment only caused his mother to cry out again. “What am I going to do?”

Gloria looked at him askance.

“Ah—and by that I mean it will be an easy fix,” Jonathan said. “Just have some coffee with Gloria, and I’ll be right back in.”

“Come with me,” Gloria said.

“I can’t leave the scene of the crime,” she whispered her dilemma.

“True, but technically since both of the other drivers
are inside here, you’re good,” Jonathan said. “But—uh—don’t say a word about it 'til I get back.” He smiled. “I’ll help you break the news. . . . Alright?”

Mavis nodded as Gloria put an arm around her and guided her to the kitchen.

“I feel so terrible,” Mavis said. “What have I done?” She paused in the hall. “And now I have done the worst thing of all!” she gasped. “I have embroiled my son into my crime!” Her doggie who’d been content in her arms started to wiggle the closer they got to the kitchen and then jumped from her arms. “Duke, get back here!” she called after him.

“Good mornin', Ms. Peterson,” Bob said when Mavis entered chasing her little dachshund.

“Good morning,” Tom echoed.

“Um.”
Mavis froze and swallowed.

“How is it going?” Tom asked.

“It’s, um,” Mavis squeaked.

“You sound outta breath.” Tom got up and offered her a chair that was easier to get into.

She sat down, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Is everything alright?” Bob asked.

“Ah-hem.” Mavis swallowed.

Mavis looked like she was about to spill the beans when Gloria spoke up. “It wouldn’t be life without a few bumps now would it?” She stepped around the
boisterous little dachshund whose greeting took the attention off of the distraught woman. “Why don’t we take these out and visit with the ladies and leave the boys here to be boys?” Gloria asked as she held out the fresh cup of coffee and a sweet roll for Mavis.

~*~

Jonathan casually leaned against the police car and nonchalantly stepped back, scooting the vehicle back with the movement. He had to wait while Mr. Jones picked up his paper and went back into his house in order to pop out the dent in the fender with his finger.

He was glad that it wasn’t plastic. With a slight buffing the scratch completely disappeared. He stepped back to assess his handiwork. The only sign that there had been a dent was that the area now gleamed with the spit shine.

He moved his mom’s car forward, steering it through the driver’s side window while he walked alongside it, trying to make it look like it took some effort to move. There wasn’t even a dent on the old Cadillac’s bumper.

“Good morning,” Mr. Bradshaw said as he walked his Shiatsu down the sidewalk.

“Morning.” Jonathan waved.

“Did you cause this pile up?” Mr. Bradshaw shook his head as he looked at the Pinto. “I think it’s seen better days.”

“No, sir.” Jonathan shook his head. “I’m just moving these cars, so they don’t cause a traffic jam.” He hoped that excuse would fly . . . . It wasn’t like they had much traffic on the street.

The old man waited as the dog did his business on the lawn. He then produced a plastic bag and started cleaning it up. The whole process took much longer than expected due to the fact he couldn’t bend over all the way.

“Here let me help you with that,” Jonathan said, taking over the scoop while the elderly man held the bag shakily. Jonathan waited as the older man slowly tied up the bag. “Do you want me to toss that?”

“No—” Mr. Bradshaw said, stuffing it into his pocket. “I like to put it on my roses.”

Jonathan nodded, hoping the day never came that he willingly stuffed crap into his pocket. It took an interminable amount of time for the old man and his little dog to shuffle a few feet away. Jonathan walked around Amber’s car to assess the damage while he waited.

The Pinto’s front grill was crumpled back into the radiator. That wasn’t going to be an easy fix. He walked around to the back of it where it had hit the cop car. The license was hanging down. He made a mental note to run the plate number through the computer’s data bank.

Curious, he tested the grill, pulling it out with his hand. It moved more easily than he thought it would.

Err, POP!

Jonathan looked up to see Mr. Bradshaw watching curiously. “Must have been rusted through,” Jonathan said.

The old man nodded as the whole front fender fell off in Jonathan’s hand.

~*~

Gloria led Mavis outside, placing her plate on the wicker table and plumping a pillow for her. “Why don’t you sit here,” she said, indicating a lovely settee across from the girls.

“Good morning, dears,” Mavis said to the ladies present.

“Momma Mavis,” Charlene said. “I just love your hair!”

“Thank you, dear,” Mavis said distractedly.

“Where did Katie go?” Gloria asked.

“She went back inside for a minute,” Jessie answered.

“Did I hear you say something about a makeover?” Gloria asked the girls who glanced at one another with some misgiving. Jessie bit her lip and raised her brows in the universal expression of oops.

“We were just talking to Amber about having one,” Charlene fessed up.

“Really?
Oh, that would be fun,” Gloria said, turning to Mavis. “Why don’t we give her one tonight?”

Sorry
, Charlene mouthed to Amber.

Amber smiled back at her. Maybe it was time for a change. With a new look and hopefully her car back, she could get far enough away to create a new identity. “I’d like that,” she said optimistically.

Tom let the dog out the back door while shaking his foot. “I think your dog needs to go outside . . . or did.”

“Oh dear,” Mavis said. “He didn’t tinkle did he?”

“Yes, ma’am, he did,” the policeman said.

“I’ll get your shoe cleaned up,” Gloria said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom said. “I’ve stepped in worse around the farm than that, but there is a puddle on the floor.”

“No longer,” they heard Jacques say. They could see him armed with rubber gloves, spray cleaner, and a roll of paper towels through the window.

Amber’s kitty swished her tail at the sight of the little dog but stayed sitting on the porch watching it. “Be nice, Kisses,” Amber said as the dog sniffed closer and closer to her.

~*~

Jonathan waited for the old man to get a few houses down before he pushed the Pinto to the curb. As soon as he stepped away, the car alarm went off.