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Jonathon Wart and The Hand of Doom

Page 9

by Terence O'Grady


  Chapter Eleven: Danger Ahead

  The next day, Jonathon and Emma were sitting in her car talking. “I've got to tell you, Jonathon, I'm not quite sure why we're doing this," said Emma as she pulled her seatbelt tight and glanced in the rearview mirror. "I mean, I'm happy to drive you to this art restorer's shop with the 'Doom' painting, but I still don't know exactly what purpose it will serve. What's the point of restoring a painting that isn't that old and doesn't seem to have any damage issues?"

  Jonathon smiled as he shoved his belt into its socket. "You've just to trust me on this one, Emma. If I'm right in my hunch, an art restorer is actually just the person I need. This woman we're taking the painting to may just be able to transform my painting from a fairly worthless canvas by a not-very- talented amateur to a masterpiece worth millions in a matter of minutes."

  Emma shook her head slowly as she pulled into traffic. "Honestly, Jonathon, I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

  "I know, Emma. I'm sorry about being so mysterious. I just don't want to get everybody's hopes up in case I'm wrong about all this. I really do appreciate the ride, though."

  "Sure, Jonathon, it's no big deal. Your hunches have usually been right on the money. Oh, look....isn't that the art restorer's studio right over there?" said Emma as she pulled the car over in front of a small but carefully kept little shop.

  "Yeah, this is it," said Jonathon' unhooking his belt. "Give me a minute or two to get the painting in there and then things will go pretty fast. I have an appointment with her so she expects me."

  "Whatever you say, Jonathon. I'll just wait here in the car."

  Minutes later Jonathon reappeared, smiling from ear to ear, clutching the painting, still covered by a sheet.

  "Well?" said Emma expectantly. "Good news or bad news"?

  "Absolutely excellent news!" said Jonathon, placing the painting carefully in the trunk of the car and slipping into his seat. "Things couldn't have gone better."

  "So are you rich beyond your wildest dreams?" asked Emma cheerfully.

  "My dreams are pretty wild, Emma, but yes. So let's get this thing home and locked up safely before something happens."

  "Relax, Jonathon," said Emma, pulling out into traffic and starting down the street. "What could possibly happen in a fifteen-minute drive back to our house?"

  Just then, a small dog ran out from the sidewalk into traffic. Emma immediately slammed on the brakes to avoid the dog. But the car refused to stop—the brakes failed to lock and Emma was forced to veer sharply to the right to miss the animal. Two seconds later the car slammed to a halt with the front end lodged firmly against a fire hydrant that was sending a stream of water fifteen feet into the air.

 

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