Page 39 of Your Every Wish

“Right now?” I slip my legs out of bed and take the phone across the hallway into the bathroom, so I don’t wake Dex.

“Just give me a few minutes to get dressed and I’ll be right over. Should I call Liam?” He’s part of this now and I’d like him to be there.

“Sure, why not?”

I can hear what she’s not saying, which is Don’t you dare bring Dex . He would think the whole thing is madness anyway, so why drag him into it?

Liam is better . . . and I can’t believe I’m saying that.

“Okay, we’ll meet you there.”

I tiptoe back into the room, start to grab the same dress I was wearing earlier, and think better of it.

I find a pair of clean jeans and a sweater and rush to the bathroom again to change.

Then I write Dex a quick note that I have a tenant emergency, almost crumple it up because I’ve never lied to him before and leave it on the kitchen table anyway.

I’m out the door in five and flying across the driveway to Liam’s trailer. He answers, looking rumpled and sleepy in his boxer shorts and T-shirt and, if I’m being totally honest, kind of hot. I mentally slap myself for even going there.

“What’s going on?” He rubs his eyes.

“Misty has answers. I didn’t want to leave you out. But it’s late and if you’d rather go back to sleep, I can tell you in the morning. ”

“Give me three minutes. Come in, it’s cold.”

I’ve never been in Liam’s mobile home. It’s open concept and messy with piles of machinery parts on the living room floor and small appliances cluttering his dining table.

Otherwise, it’s pretty nondescript, though the trailer itself is more updated than ours.

The floors are luxury vinyl that look like wood planks and the kitchen counters are granite, not the janky Formica we have.

The kitchen is remarkably tidy compared to the rest of the main space and there’s even a center island, which is where I sit while waiting for him, which isn’t long.

True to his word, he’s dressed and we’re out the door.

“Looks like you have company.” He nudges his chin at Dex’s Rivian.

“My boyfriend’s up from the city.”

“I guess you didn’t want him to come with us.”

Even in the darkness I can see his brows drawing together in question.

Ugh, how to explain this. “It’s not that I don’t want him to be part of this, but he’s kind of buttoned up and honestly, he’ll think Misty’s a con artist.” I slant him a glance. “Do you?”

“Think Misty’s a con artist? No. She may exaggerate her magical prowess, but she’s definitely got something the rest of us don’t. Police departments wouldn’t hire her if she didn’t have some kind of a track record.”

“That’s what I think, too.” It’s reassuring that someone as logical as Liam believes in Misty’s gift. That’s what I call it. A gift. “But Dex wouldn’t see it the way we do. And we spend so little time together as it is that I don’t want to waste it arguing with him about this.”

“Why don’t you spend much time together?”

“Because I live here, and he lives nearly three hours away.” But even before I moved to Ghost, Dex always kept me at arm’s length.

No one was more surprised than I when out of the blue he offered to take a couple of days off to visit.

“He works in finance and is trying to move up the ranks but it’s supercompetitive at his firm. His hours are crazy.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, but his energy is judgy. I can feel it like the wind slapping my hair against my face. My first impulse is to defend Dex but we’re here at Misty’s and excitement is thrumming through me.

Misty opens the door even before we knock and motions for us to come in. “Everyone take a seat. Let me gather up some refreshments and I’ll tell you what I saw.”

“It’s late, Misty. No refreshments,” Kennedy barks. “Let’s get on with it.”

“All right. No need to get your panties in a bunch. And if you don’t mind, or even if you do, I’d like a glass of wine. Anyone else?”

Liam and I both pass but she brings a bottle of Viognier and four glasses to the living room anyway. There’s still a heap of sewing stuff and her puddle of shiny pink polka-dot fabric is in the corner as if Misty swept it to the side to make room for us.

We all sit in anticipation of what she’s going to tell us.

I still don’t believe Willy hid his fortune in a golf bag or that the tiny key we found in the bottom of an envelope will unlock a treasure trove of riches.

At best, whatever Misty is about to tell us will uncover more about the father I hardly knew.

I can more than live with that. But for Kennedy’s sake I hope there’s at least enough in Misty’s revelation to buy my sister out of trouble.

It’s the least Willy can do.

Misty pours herself a generous glass of wine and motions for us to help ourselves. I can tell Kennedy is a hair trigger away from losing it.

“Maybe we should get started,” I gently urge.

“In a minute.” Misty swirls her glass, then takes a leisurely sip. “You girls don’t have the first clue how taxing this is. How it wrings me out like a sponge. Speaking of, I’m parched.” This time she takes a healthy swig of Viognier.

I’m starting to wonder if Misty might be a lush.

Kennedy catches my gaze and rolls her eyes. Liam tucks one of the throw pillows behind his head and stretches his legs out. They’re long and lean. They’re good legs.

“All right,” Misty says and then lets out a long-suffering sigh before turning to Kennedy.

“After you left, I was getting ready for bed.” It’s the first time I notice that she’s in pajamas.

Flannel ones covered in multicolored teapots.

How had I missed that? “And on a lark, I took another look at the picture you emailed me. It was like the first time. Complete nothingness. Just a piece of paper with some numbers.”

She takes another sip of wine. “I stared at it for some time. But still nada . I put my phone down and brushed my teeth and washed my face. Told myself to let it go, not to push it. That it will either happen on its own or it won’t.

I was just about to turn in for the night when something told me to look at the picture again.

This time, I took it with me into bed and got under the covers and did my breathing.

Then I called the picture up and let myself focus.

Really focus. And that’s when I saw it.”

“Saw what?” Kennedy leans closer to Misty, who’s sitting across from her in an overstuffed chair.

“The golf bag. It’s here.”

“What do you mean it’s here? I thought it was in La Jolla, somewhere in Willy’s house.

That’s what you originally said.” I’m starting to think that Misty is leading us on a wild-goose chase.

Why would Willy leave his golf bag here?

There’s no evidence that he’s ever stepped foot in the place. Misty herself said she’d never met him.

“I never definitively said the bag was in Willy’s house. I said it was in the stacks. Look, I’m as surprised as you are. But it’s here. I can feel it in every fiber of my being.”

“What are the stacks? And what do the numbers on the paper we found mean? How do they link the bag to Cedar Pines? It doesn’t make any sense.

” Kennedy is as skeptical as I am, I can hear it in her voice, which is tinged with anger.

Not at Misty—well, maybe at Misty for jerking us around—but more than likely at the situation itself.

“I don’t know. I’m not getting anything from the numbers. But the bag is here. I saw it clear as day.”

“Where?” Kennedy says. “He didn’t even live here, for God’s sake.”

“Ungrateful much?” Misty hisses.

Liam sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Everyone needs to calm down. Misty, go over it again. Tell us exactly what you saw. Take your time.” He pins Kennedy with a warning glance. “No one is in a rush. Just lay it out for us, every detail you can remember.”

“I saw it. The golf bag. It’s black and white with red trim and has the monogram WBK engraved on the top.”

“ B ? What’s the B for?” Kennedy wants to know.

“Bradford. It’s Willy’s middle name,” I say. “Go ahead.”

“The bag was leaning up against a cedar tree next to a shovel. Then I saw the Cedar Pines Estates sign at the entrance near the highway. It was the same way when I found Roman. Images came to me in pieces. Little dribs and drabs of information. ”

“Are these visions telling you that the golf bag is buried under the Cedar Pines sign?” Kennedy is bouncing her leg up and down, making the couch shake.

“Not necessarily. It could be, or the sign is simply a message that it’s here in Cedar Pines. Anywhere in Cedar Pines.”

“That’s helpful,” Kennedy says. “Eighty-six acres to search with no clue where to start.”

Misty glares at her.

“Nothing about this makes sense,” I say. “Why here? Why not a bank? Or if Willy was concerned about the feds seizing his money, why not a safe-deposit box?”

“Banks and safe-deposit boxes leave trails. If Willy was trying to hide money from the law that’s the last place he would stash it,” Liam says.

“It makes perfect sense that he would bury it here. Why else would he have purchased Cedar Pines in the first place? It’s not like it’s a terribly good investment.

Piss poor, if you ask me. But it’s the last place anyone would look for hidden contraband. ”

Kennedy is nodding as if she’s having an epiphany. “Especially if he bought the park under a fake name.”

“Eventually, the feds would figure it out,” Liam says. “In this day and age, it’s nearly impossible to hide assets. But it would definitely buy him, or his heirs, time.”

“You think that’s why he left us the park?

” I ask, Liam’s theory taking root. As convoluted as it is, there’s a ring of practicality to it.

And it sounds like Willy. He was a schemer, a gambler, and a crook.

And buying a run-down trailer park to hide your millions has the hallmarks of all three characteristics.

How he ever thought we’d figure it out is the sketchy part.