“I suppose you have something to do with this, then?” She gestured to the wall, where a golden arrow had been deeply embedded. “Look at it. Went right through the case and shattered it.”
Berron recovered and reached for the arrow, only to be stopped by the curator.
“Don’t touch it,” she said. “We’ll need it for fingerprints.”
“I don’t think you’ll find those in any database,” he said.
I leaned down and read the small informational card attached to the column. “TheHeavy Heart. ‘A small lamp consisting of an eighteen carat gold wheelbarrow decorated with colored diamond flowers and holding a large citrine heart.’ How large, exactly?”
“Several inches across.”
I whistled.
She cupped both hands together. “And the night light itself is this much solid eighteen carat gold.”
“Talk about sweet dreams,” I said. A golden wheelbarrow with a golden gem for a golden princess. It made sense, in a Gentry sort of way.
“For some reason,” the curator added, interrupting my thoughts, “when you people show up, things seem to go missing.”
“‘You people’?” Berron said.
I elbowed him. “We’ll find it,” I said. “Come on.” I grabbed Berron and we went back outside.
Berron dropped onto one of the green benches and began bouncing his knees rapid-fire in a fit of nervous energy. “‘You people,’” he muttered.
“Berron, focus. If you were a Gentry princess with a heavy decorative item, what would you do next?”
“How should I know? Even I don’t fire arrows through museum displays.”
A savory scent wafted through the air: New York hot dogs. “Those hot dogs smell good.”
“Is this about your stomach or finding my sister?”
I grabbed his arm and dragged him along. “Maybe she got hungry.”
“But she doesn’t have any money—”
“No, she has a solid gold knick-knack to trade.”
Berron came to a stop with a look of horror. “She wouldn’t need to trade it.”
“What do you mean? Why?”
“You’ll see.”
This time, he grabbedmyarm and draggedmealong.
15
Wefollowedthesidewalkalong the edge of Central Park, stopping at each of the vendors and asking if they’d seen a girl dressed in gold.
No, no, and no. Shaken heads. Uninterested faces.
We reached the last cart in the area and Berron stepped up. “Hey, have you seen a teenage girl dressed all in gold? She order a hot dog from you?”
The hot dog seller’s expression crumpled like the aluminum wrappers he put on the dogs. “Why you wanna know?”
“Just answer the question.”
