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“So the words on the cipher matched those in the poem,” Emily said, comparing the two.
I shook myself out of the contemplation that had kept me quiet too long. “Yeah,” I said, dragging out the completed verse.
The copyright, Lola dispute, rights writer, Lola greed. Bear bear. Heart heart. The key, rights studio.
Emily held up the paper, squinting at it as she read. And then those eyes found mine again. “Um...”
“Yeah, that part’s still a little confusing.”
“Theories?”
“Well, there’s some other stuff we figured out,” I went on, leaning back in the chair as I thought about how far we’d come inour efforts to unravel my great-uncle’s intentions over the past couple years. “Remember the big bear in the bar?”
“The one with the Rufus sign at his feet?”
I sat up and gave her a level look. “There is only one bear in the bar.”
“Good point,” she laughed. “So yeah, Rufus.”
“Rufus.”
“How does he fit in?”
“His paw has an inscription and it’s not very flattering to an old friend of my uncle’s. It calls him a traitor and names him—Rudy Fusterburg.”
“The guy you mentioned before,” Emily said slowly, shaking her head.
“Right. So here’s what we figured out. I told you a little bit last night, but this is the detailed version.” I explained about Rudy and my uncle having been friends and writing partners in a company they called Mountaintop Studios in Hollywood back in the fifties and sixties. I told her about the actress Annie Lowe, who was once engaged to Rudy, and how history shows Annie mysteriously disappearing. We’d deduced that Annie was actually Lola, our aunt, and that she’d run away with Marvin to Kasper Ridge, breaking her engagement and giving up her career to marry my uncle.
“Wouldn’t that make your uncle the traitor? At least in Rudy’s eyes?”
“I’m sure Rudy would have agreed with you. But in retaliation, he removed all traces of my uncle from the work they did together.”
For the next couple hours, I walked Emily through the movie scripts we’d found, the photo album, and the costume jewelry. I told her about Will’s visit to Rudy’s family in west Los Angeles, and about the lawyer we’d consulted about a lawsuit. Emily agreed that the idea of suing a dead man’s family was distastefulat best, and it reassured me. That couldn’t have been what Uncle Marvin wanted.
By the time we’d been through it all, with Emily making notes in a laptop as I wound up, I was starving.
“I forgot I promised you food!” I’d gotten wrapped up. “I’m hungry—I bet you’re starving.”
“I was too interested to realize it, but I’m hungry now, yeah.” Emily looked up at me with her warm dark eyes over the screen of her computer.
“Should I order some food up? Or I can send it back to your room?” I really didn’t want her to leave yet.
She closed the computer and glanced around as if only just realizing she was in my room. “If you’re hungry too...” She gave a little shrug.
A glow of warmth lit within me at her clear reluctance to leave. “Great. I’ll grab the menu.”
A few minutes later, the order placed, and a couple fingers of Half Cat poured into two glasses, we moved to take the armchairs in front of the big window. It was strange having someone else here. I’d sat here many times alone, deep in thought, but the whole room felt different with Emily here. The whole world did, actually. Brighter, full of possibility.
“The whole story is incredible,” Emily said. “But I’m not sure you’ve really solved it. I feel like there must be something else, something missing. Can it really all be about money?”
“I mean...it is a treasure hunt.” There had to be something valuable at the end of all this, didn’t there?
“Yeah, but treasure is a loaded word.” She sipped her whiskey and then leaned forward. “You can treasure a memory. Or a person. Or a feeling, you know?”
I sighed. “You’re right. I just don’t know how much more hunt I have in me.”
Chapter Seven
