Page 39 of Your Every Wish
“Hello, Emma Peel.” That’s what Sam calls me because he says I look just like Diana Rigg, the 1960s actress who played Emma Peel on theAvengersTV show. “What’s up?”
“I have a legal question.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“If a person is accused of stealing thirty thousand dollars and the police are looking for her . . . I mean him . . . and he came to you as his lawyer, would you be duty bound to turn him in?”
“Is this person you?”
“No. It’s an acquaintance.”
“Not Dex, right?”
“Of course not. Just someone at the trailer park who is involved in a misunderstanding.” Not the whole truth, but not a lie either.
“I’d probably want to call the police and tell them that the person they were looking for is now represented by me and take it from there.”
“But you wouldn’t have to give up their whereabouts?” I toy with a loose thread on my quilt, the one Grandma Tuck made me my first year at UC Santa Cruz, so I’d have something familiar while living in the dorm.
“It would depend. What’s this really about, Emma?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. But if I were, would you represent this person? I mean, at least until they could find someone else if they had to. Because this can probably be cleared up pretty quickly.” What I’m hoping is that Kennedy’s mom will fess up and do what’s right.
“And you say this person is an acquaintance of yours?”
“More like a friend.” Or a half sister.
“If it’s a friend of yours I can consult with him, see what the situation is, and make some recommendations. Will that work?”
“Yes, that would be perfect. Let me talk to him and I’ll get back to you. And thank you, Sam.”
“No problem, Emma Peel.”
“He’ll do it!” I call to Kennedy. But when I go in search of her, she’s gone.
Kennedy
“How did you know about the key?” I brush past Misty and head straight to her living room.
“You know how I knew.” She looks down her nose at me. “People here talk. By now, I’m sure Harry or Rondi, or even Liam has told you about my special skill set.”
“Harry said you’re a witch.” I doubt I’m breaking any confidences here. He made it sound like it was public knowledge. “I don’t believe in the occult. So just tell me how you knew. Did Willy tell you? You knew him, didn’t you?”
“I’ve already told you that I never met your father.”
I size her up to see if she’s telling the truth. If she’s lying, she’s a good actress. Or a damned good poker player.
“Then how did you know about the key?”
“So, you found it, huh? Was it in the manila envelope, like I said?”
“No, it wasn’t. It was in a smaller, white envelope that was inside the manila envelope.” I stick out my chin as if to sayyou were wrong, even though she was only wrong by a small technicality.
“Ah,” she says, then goes off to the kitchen to return with two wine goblets and a bottle of Chablis and pours us each a glass.
“Emma thinks it’s for a suitcase. Do you know where the suitcase is?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea, dear. How would I?” She tries to suppress a grin that reminds me of Rondi’s stupid cat Snow White.
