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I found pajamas with red hearts and was about to get ready for bed when Grandma came in and closed the door behind her.
“I think I might have figured something out,” she said. “I didn’t want to tell you in front of your mother. She’s all in a dither about this treasure hunt. And she probably would think I’m being silly and jumping to conclusions.”
“What is it?”
“When your husband passes, one of the customs is to move your wedding band from your left hand to your right hand. I got two dead husbands, so I’m wearing both rings. Truth is, it doesn’t feel right to have them so close together on my finger. It’s not like they even knew each other. Anyway, I was washing my hands this afternoon, and I took my rings off. And I was looking at the rings on the counter by the sink and wondering what I should do about them, and this idea hit me.”
“And?”
“And I never said anything about this before, but the date on the inside of my band is wrong. I’ve been keeping Jimmy’s band in a box in my underwear drawer next to the keys and his band has the wrong
date, too. It’s not even the same as mine.”
“Didn’t you get the rings together?”
“No. It was so sudden. I thought we were going to the Bahamas to have a couple of nights of sin, but when we got there, he had it arranged to get married.”
“And?”
“Maybe the numbers are his clue,” Grandma said. “The La-Z-Boys think he gave his clue to me, and the wedding bands are all I’ve got from him.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” Grandma said. “Do you think that’s crazy?”
“I don’t know. What are the numbers? Do they make any sense to you?”
“That’s the thing. They’re just numbers.”
Grandma took her ring off and handed it to me. The numbers inscribed on the inside were 2/5/20.
“And here’s Jimmy’s ring,” she said, handing me a second ring.
His numbers were 11/7/20.
“The safe most likely needs numbers to go with the two keys,” I said. “Maybe this is the safe combination.”
“That would do us a lot of good if we knew where the safe was,” Grandma said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The house was quiet when I got up. My mom and Grandma were at church, and my dad was at his lodge doing whatever men do at lodges. The coffee was still hot and there was half an Entenmann’s coffee cake on the kitchen table. I had coffee and cake, and I wrote a note to my mom that I was borrowing the Buick and returning to my apartment.
Twenty minutes later I chugged into my building’s parking lot and did a fast scan for unfamiliar cars. I’d had a restless night, thinking about Grandma’s rings. She’d been accused of possessing not only the keys but also a clue and now it might turn out to be true.
I took a shower and got dressed in old Stephanie clothes. Ratty T-shirt, worn-out jeans, sloppy gray hooded sweatshirt. It was Sunday and the bonds office was closed, so I was going used car shopping. I’ve found that it’s best not to look successful when you shop for a used car.
Uncle Matt’s Used Car Lot was ten minutes away and opened at noon on Sunday. I wanted a car that was unremarkable. Not too flashy. Not too shabby. Not too big and not too small. And it had to have good juju. Since I didn’t seem to have a lot of good car karma, it would help if I could offset it with a car with good juju.
I grabbed my messenger bag and headed out. The sky was blue, and the air was a perfect seventy-five degrees. I was parked toward the back of the lot, and the bulbous powder blue and white Buick was clearly visible when I stepped out of my apartment building. I walked past the first row of cars and two men came out of nowhere.
“Mr. Shine would like to talk to you,” one of them said.
My heart did a little flip and it took a couple of beats for me to find my voice. “I would love to talk to Mr. Shine,” I told him. “I can meet him at the bail bonds office anytime tomorrow.”
“He wants to talk to you now,” he said.
I stepped to the side and moved in the direction of the Buick. “Now isn’t convenient.”
