Page 87 of Your Every Wish
“Hang on a second,” Liam says. “I may have messed up some of the numbers.”
Emma goes through it again, getting Liam back on track. We are a good team, I’ll say that. Without Emma, I couldn’t have gotten through these last couple of weeks. It makes me wish I had met her sooner.
Even though we share the same DNA, until now I never thought of her as a sister. All these years, I’d built her up as my archnemesis, the girl who was Willy Keil’s legitimate daughter. And to think that I wasted a lifetime of unwarranted hostility when I could’ve had Emma in my life. Too bad there aren’t do-overs. But, fingers crossed, we’ll spend the rest of our lives together in twin mansions, summering in exotic locales, spending Willy’s money.
Liam calls off another word and I write it down, my inner voice, chanting,Don’t read it, don’t read it, don’t read it.
I quickly turn the page of the notebook to keep myself from skimming. When we’ve finished piecing together the puzzle, we’ll read it together.
Emma glances my way, her eyes beseeching. I shrug.
“Let’s get through all the numbers first,” Liam says, reading our body language. “We may have to study it for a while before it makes sense.”
He has a point. Why would Willy make anything easy?
“It’s in the stacks,” Misty blurts. She’s either having one of her visions or an episode of Tourette’s syndrome.
“What is?” I ask, slightly irritated. We’re getting close to finishing and now we’ve all stopped to stare at her.
“The golf bag.”
“You said that before, back when you thought it was still in La Jolla.”
“I never said it was in La Jolla.”
“What’s the stacks?” Emma asks with the patience of . . . Emma.
“I don’t know. Every time it comes to me it disappears just as quickly, like a puff of smoke.”
“Let’s get through this first.” Liam, always the voice of reason, holds up the book. “Then we’ll revisit whatever it is that you’re seeing, okay, Misty?”
She nods but it’s clear that she’s frustrated. We all are.
Emma returns to reading off numbers, announcing that we’re almost done. I take a quick peek at what I’ve written. There’s no punctuation, so no way to know where sentences begin and end. Just a list of words. Lots and lots of words.
We’ll make sense of them afterward, I tell myself. By the time Emma gets to the last number, my hands are shaking.
“Okay, Kennedy, what does it say?” Emma looks as nervous as I feel.
I close my eyes and hand the notebook to her. “You read it.”
She silently examines what I’ve written, asks for my pen, and starts marking up the page. “The good news, there are actual sentences here. The bad, I have no idea what they mean yet or if they’re even related to the golf bag.”
“Read it aloud,” Liam says. “It may take a few times before we get the gist of it.”
Or never, I think, then kick myself for being such a pessimist.
“I keep seeing the golf bag buried in a stack,” Misty says. “But I can’t see what the stack is.”
“Maybe it’ll come to you when you hear the message.” Emma squeezes Misty’s arm for encouragement.
But before Emma starts reading, my phone rings. It’s Madge. I made the mistake of telling her about Willy’s numbers, how they may be associated with money he left us, and today we have a method to crack the code. I left out the part about breaking into Willy’s house and how Misty, our neighbor, can see dead people. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The minute she heard money she was off to the races and hasn’t stopped hounding me, calling every hour on the hour. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already spent my share. Now, I’m second-guessing having told her. But the thing is I tell her everything.
Everyone is waiting.
“I’ll deal with it later.” I shove my phone in my sweatshirt pouch.
“Okay, here goes,” Emma says and reads from my notes. “ ‘In the shade of towering pines, a cedar stands tall, its presence defines. Beneath the dry stacks, where courts reside, my gift to my neglected daughters is tucked inside. From the green to the grave, I’m making up for lost time, assisting your swing and guiding your stride. Tucked away with care, in a bag that’s always there. Providing funds for the game, my presence, you can’t disclaim.’ ”
