Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow

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Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow Page 8

by Ivie Green, Barbara


  Gloria cleared her throat and pointed. There in the middle of the toaster was a plate with one last cinnamon roll.

  “I knew there was a reason I loved you.” He sighed happily, picking her up and swirling her. “Augh.” He set her back down. “My back!” he cried with a chuckle.

  “Stop it.” She slapped at him.

  ~*~

  Jonathan pulled into the police department’s small parking lot, doing a lot of shifting Amber thought as they maneuvered into the only spot left.

  She’d learned to keep both legs over on the right side of the gear stick, but every time he moved the blasted thing, his arm brushed up against her breast.

  “We’re here.” Jonathan sighed. “Whew!” He shut off the motor and played with the heater switch which was off. “Is it hot in here or is it me?”

  “Toasty.” Jacques grinned.

  Jonathan realized he may have given a little too much away about the effect this nerdish, fuzzy haired, simple, inexperienced woman had on him. It was the oddest thing. He normally went for the sophisticated girls or ones with heavy assets . . . speaking of which, he thought to himself as he spotted Patricia headed in his direction.

  “Here comes trouble, oui?” Jacques asked.

  “Yeah,” Jonathan half sighed-half-groaned. “Would you take Amber inside for me?” he asked Jacques. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  Amber watched as he walked out to meet her.

  “Come with me,” Jacques said. “I have never been here, but if we avoid the area with bars we should be do well, oui?”

  “Yes,” Amber said. As they slipped by Jonathan and his friend toward the front doors, she noticed the busy bee lean closer. “Are you sure you can’t tell me what is going on?” Amber heard her say.

  Jacques opened the door for her, and they walked into a small foyer that had yet another set of doors. Beyond that was a large room with a long counter that cordoned off the office space where two women were filing papers. Jacques pointed to the barred door at the end of the corridor and indicated the bench opposite the counter.

  “Perhaps we should wait here,” he said when one of the ladies from the other side of the room hollered abruptly.

  “What do you need?” Amber started to turn right back around but ran into Jonathan coming in the door.

  “Oh,” the woman behind the counter said. “They’re with you. I just sent your girlfriend out, and you can join her.”

  “So much for the warm welcome,” Jacques said.

  “You want a warm welcome?” the woman asked as she came forward. “Go to the pancake house.”

  “Actually, I’m here to see Tom,” Jonathan said. “He wanted me to stop by and give him a statement.”

  “Augh,” the woman sighed in disgust as she leaned forward and hit a button. A buzzer sounded on the door that made Jacques step back. “Go on through. His door is the second one on the right.”

  “Perhaps I will wait in the car,” Jacques said.

  “C’mon, Pops,” Jonathan said herding them both through the door. “There is nothing to be afraid of.

  Jacques looked back as the door slammed shut. “This is not my element,” he said.

  “That’s right,” Jonathan said as if the realization of it just dawned on him. “I guess pirates tend to avoid jails.”

  Jacques looked at Amber who was looking at him in surprise. “He jokes, oui.”

  Tom looked up from his desk when they came down the hall. “There you are.” He picked up his phone, pushed a button, and spoke into it. “Can you get that line-up ready?” He motioned for them to come in while he spoke. “Great,” he said, hanging up the receiver. “Now, tell me what happened.” He looked at Amber.

  “Well,” she started tentatively, “I closed the library and walked to where I had parked my car. As you know it wasn’t there, so I decided to go to the beauty school to use the phone.”

  “You don’t have a cell phone?” Tom asked in surprise.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Why didn’t you use the phone in the library?” he wondered aloud.

  “Are these questions relevant?” Jonathan asked.

  “Are you a lawyer?” Tom fired back.

  “The power had been going on and off, and I had been given a card for ten percent off,” Amber offered up, hoping the two would stop arguing.

  “Who gave you the card?” Tom asked.

  “Mrs. Peterson.”

  “Hmm-hmmm.” Tom made the noise like the culprit had just been found.

  “What?” Jonathan asked. “You think my mother is in collusion with the diaper bandit?”

  “What happened next?” Tom asked, ignoring him.

  “Well, halfway across the park area, I heard a twig snap, and the next thing I knew, an arrow hit a tree next to me.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “Well,” Amber said, “I ran.”

  “What else?” Tom asked.

  “She ran some more until she ran into me, and that’s it,” Jonathan said.

  “Is that true?” Tom asked.

  “Yes.” Amber nodded.

  “Did you see these arrows?”

  “Yes,” Amber answered.

  “Did either of you pick up any of those arrows?” Tom asked as the phone rang.

  “No, I didn’t,” Amber said.

  Tom picked it up. “Yeah, okay good, we’ll be right down.” He hung up. “They are ready for us.”

  “Ready for what?” Amber asked.

  “The line-up,” Tom said. “All you have to do is pick him out of the group.”

  “But I never saw him,” Amber said.

  Tom stood up. “It’s due process. . . and part of his rights.”

  “But I never saw him!” Amber repeated.

  “That’s fine. We’ll do it anyway,” he said. “Do you think you would know him?” He looked at Jonathan.

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “Then let’s go,” Tom said.

  “Moi?” Jacques looked surprised.

  “Sure,” Tom said. “You can see the judicial system of this great nation up close and personal.”

  They went down the hall a little farther to a small room with a curtain. He closed the door behind them and turned off the lights. “Let the show begin.” Tom opened the viewing curtain.

  Seven scantily clad men stood in the lineup. Each held a number and a sheet wound in various ways to cover their lower anatomy.

  “How much did you have to pay them?” Jonathan asked. “It’s like a bad version of a white sale.”

  Jacques looked uncomfortable. “It’s like a really bad peep show.”

  “These are men who were picked up for one reason or another yesterday,” Tom continued on, ignoring him. “Can you see the one who fits the description of the attacker?”

  “I’ve never seen any of them before,” Amber said.

  “What about you?” Tom asked Jonathan.

  “Well sure,” he said. “There is Mark on the end with the big beer belly. Rob is next to him wearing,” he paused, straining to see, “are those pink roses on that table cloth?” Jonathan looked back at Tom. “Seriously, how much are you paying them to wear those?”

  Tom picked up the microphone and asked the men to turn to the left through the speaker. When they had all turned, he asked, “What about now?”

  “Number five is Marty. What did he do now? Cut down a Christmas tree out of season again?”

  “The question is not who you know,” Tom said. Again he got on the speaker. When all the men turned around, Amber found herself wanting to look anywhere but at them. She settled for the ceiling.

  “Augh.” Jacques grimaced.

  “Um, there is Jeff from the deli,” Jonathan continued. “Did he tie one on last night or just get booted out by his wife? Then we have Simon, the front desk clerk down the hall, and last, but not least, Chuck, the inside linebacker for the high-school’s defense back in 1998. And can I recommend a back waxing?”

  “Are
you done now?” Tom asked.

  “The Cupid that attacked us last night is holding the number two card,” Jonathan finally answered.

  Curiosity had gotten the best of her Amber realized as she scanned the line for the number two and was surprised to see that out of all of them, he looked the least threatening.

  Tom asked them all to face the front and for numbers three and five to step forward. “What about now?”

  “My money is still on two,” Jonathan said.

  “Can they see in here?” Amber asked as she continued to watch them.

  “No, ma’am,” Tom said.

  “Are you sure?” she asked again when the man claiming to be Cupid waved at her.

  “That is odd.” Jonathan switched places with her. Number two’s eyes seemed to follow the movement.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tom said. “There is a certain personality type that likes this sort of thing.”

  “It is odd,” Jacques said, waving. Cupid perked up and waved back.

  “Wait here,” Tom said before he stepped out of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

  After he left, Jacques walked across the area in front of the window several times. Cupid watched him as he traversed the small area. Jacques then walked to one end and popped up in the middle of the window, disappearing again, only to pop up again in another spot. Cupid’s eyes followed every move. “He can definitely see us.”

  Although she’d swear she’d never seen him before, Amber couldn’t quite lose the feeling that she knew him. It just didn’t fit. The man wasn’t at all like the others who had come for her.

  Tom walked back into the room and picked up the receiver. “That will be all.”

  “What are they going to do to him?” Amber asked.

  “Well, that all depends.” Tom closed the curtains as he spoke.

  “On what?” Jonathan asked as he watched the men through the ever diminishing space as the curtains closed.

  Amber watched too. Whoever he was he looked sad and alone. She almost felt like she was abandoning him.

  “On what the psychiatrists say,” Tom finished. “He’ll be assessed over at The Oaks before we can press charges.”

  “I don’t want to press charges,” Amber interjected quickly, noticing that both Jonathan and Jacques looked at her like she was nuts and might need an evaluation too.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry he got under your skin,” Tom said. “You may not want to press personal charges in this case, but the state is. He was on state property and has proven himself to be a menace to society.”

  “He did not look like a killer,” Amber said.

  “Try to remember last night when you were scared and alone,” Tom said, showing a little more humanity than the professional face. “Would you want your daughter to go through that?”

  “You’re right,” Amber said with a sigh.

  “Jonathan, do you have anything to add to your previous statement?” Tom asked.

  “Like what?” Jonathan asked.

  “Like how I found him lying on the ground unconscious,” Tom said.

  “He must have tripped.” Jonathan shrugged, but when Tom continued to look at him, he asked, “Why?”

  “Well,” Tom sighed, “let’s see. I have a man in a diaper, who not only claims to be Cupid, but says you punched his lights out and took his arrows. Since there weren’t any at the scene of the crime, I can only wonder where they all went.”

  “Hmm.” Jonathan nodded. “That is a quandary.”

  “So are you saying you didn’t take his arrows?” Tom watched him doubtfully.

  “Are you saying you believe him?” Jonathan asked.

  “Let me know if something jogs your memory,” Tom said as he let them out of the room and led them back down the hallway.

  “I may not be able to eat lunch after that,” Jacques said.

  Tom clicked the buzzer to let them out. “If you should think of anything else,” he started to say when a bald man with a pot belly at the counter turned and pointed.

  “It’s them!”

  “Are you sure?” the woman behind the counter asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” the man said.

  Jonathan recognized him as the night manager of the motel down the road. “Those are the men I saw leaving the room that had been ransacked.”

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything more you’d like to say?” Tom asked Jonathan.

  “Actually,” Jonathan said, “there may have been something that slipped my mind.”

  “I bet there is.”

  “When I went to the motel to get Miss Smith’s cat,” Jonathan started. “As you might recall, you sent me there. The room had already been ransacked.”

  “And you’re just now remembering this?” Tom asked doubtfully.

  “Well,” Jonathan said, “yes. There has been a lot happening, and I just assumed you had caught the man who had done it already.”

  “Who will pay for the damages?” the manager asked.

  “I will,” Amber said.

  “See there,” the manager said, pointing to Amber, “you heard her.”

  “We will straighten the room and replace it with like items of the same quality.” Jonathan jumped into the conversation.

  Amber didn’t know if she was annoyed or grateful for his intervention.

  “I will go right now to look at this room,” Tom said to the man. “Mister?”

  “Bigelow,” the man supplied.

  “Mr. Bigelow, did you see anyone else around the motel? Anyone at all?”

  “There was a gentleman, but he was dignified.” Mr. Bigelow pointed to Jonathan and Jacques. “Not like these men.”

  Jacques and Jonathan glanced at each other as Tom turned to the lady behind the counter. “Carole, send Hansen over to the Golden Key Motel on the highway and make sure he brings a dusting kit. I’d like to see if I can get any prints.”

  Amber spoke up quickly. “I’d be happy to pay for the damages if this could just be forgotten.”

  Considering the prints he’d lifted and what it had revealed about her, Jonathan now understood why she wanted to pay for the damages. He made a mental note to switch her photo with another woman’s. “I’m afraid we were all over that place trying to catch the cat,” Jonathan said.

  Tom’s expression of annoyance was suitable for the crime they had committed. He looked at the manager of the Golden Key. “Is there more than a thousand dollars damage?”

  “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.

  Chapter 8

  “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.”

 

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