“Fine. This ismyhunt. But the completion of it fulfillsyourpromise. It’s important to me that you have the chance to make good on what you told my dad you’d do.”
They stood there for a few more minutes. He heard dog nails on hardwood and the ice maker dropping new cubes in the freezer.
Eventually, Finley parted from him and returned her attention to the calendar page on the table. “April twentieth fell on a Saturday almost nine years ago. I know that because Sunday, April twenty-first, is a day that will always be seared into my consciousness. That’s the day Dad shot Carla and his whole world came tumbling down.”
She’d easily transitioned from hugging him back to the treasure hunt. He had no ability to transition from holding her to anything else. The contact between them had dazed his brain.
She chewed the edge of her lip. “This day, this Saturday, should have been the last normal, uneventful day of Dad’s life. But he’s asking us to go to Robbie and inquire about it. Why?”
“Because whatever the two of them did on that day will remind you of something from your past with your dad and lead you to the next clue?”
Finley picked up her phone and selected a song from one of her playlists.
Great, more wind chimes.
“Thinking music,” she said.
He’d already tried to explain to her why this wasn’t music. No point in wasting more breath.
“Do you have any idea what Ed was doing the day before Carla died?” he asked.
“No. The day before she died, I was studying for finals, dating Chase, and living my life as if I didn’t have a care in the world. I’m ashamed to say I was focused on myself and oblivious to what was going on with my dad.”
“I think most daughters that age are focused on themselves and oblivious to their parents.”
“Even so, in retrospect, it seems incredibly self-absorbed.”
They both looked down at the calendar page.
“It’s strange that he’s asking you to do two things,” Luke said.
“Right, because in every other clue, he asked me to do one thing.”
“If Robbie is the one with the clue, why didn’t he just ask you to speak with Robbie?”
“And if the poem holds the clue, why didn’t he just ask me to speak with June?”
He held his silence instead of trying to answer an unanswerable question.
“Is there significance to the fact that my dad is requesting I talk to Robbie first and ask June about the poem second? Is he telling me, by ordering it that way, that the conversation with Robbie is where the clue will be found?”
“I don’t know.”
She toyed with a lock of her hair. “It could be that Dad wants me to ask Robbie about the day before everything fell apart for a reason separate from the hunt. Perhaps he simply wants me to know that day was a good day. Or it could be that he wants me to ask Juneabout the poem for a reason separate from the hunt. Maybe that poem’s about me? Or maybe it’s one he’s particularly proud of?”
“How soon can we visit them?”
“I’ll ask.” She dialed her uncle. Lowering to a chair, she scooped Sally onto her lap. “Hello!” she said into the phone. “It’s your favorite niece.”
Luke leaned against the counter, hands curved around its edge.
“I miss you and June. I was thinking about driving down and swinging by for a visit. Would you be up for that?” As she listened to his reply, she shot Luke a thumbs-up. “Awesome. I’ll drive over after work Monday. In fact, how would you feel about me bringing Luke? He strikes me as a little lonely and somewhat underfed. He could use company and a good meal.”
He scowled.
She winked. Her slender fingers scratched beneath Sally’s ears. “Perfect. Great! We’ll see you then. Bye.” She ended the call. “We’re all set for dinner at Robbie and June’s house day after tomorrow.”
“Good.” This hunt was finally regaining momentum. “Though I’m not lonely. Or underfed.”
