Sweet Water(99)

“Maybe your son’s welfare isn’t her primary concern right now.” There’s something colder than ice in Josh’s voice, and I understand why he’s saying this. I didn’t care enough about Yazmin’s life to respect her dead body. Why should Alisha do me any favors? I get it. But this is about her son too.

Josh is revving the engine of Martin’s car, and I take out Yazmin’s journal, which was jammed in my extra-long clutch, trying to find anything in it that can possibly help me here. I can’t believe all the things I never knew, especially about myself. My intention was to get to know Yazmin, welcome her into my home, but instead she thought I’d mocked her.

“What is that? What’re you reading?” Josh asks.

“It’s Yazmin’s journal,” I admit.

Josh grits his teeth. “You have it? How could you?”

It’s far from possible, but I need to get Josh back on my side. It’s not like he’s perfect. “I know you kissed her, Josh. How could you?” I ask, but I don’t stop reading or beat him up too badly. Our offense is much greater here.

“Shit. I knew it. She tried to kiss me, Sarah, but it didn’t happen. I yelled at her. Told her to never do that again, but I felt bad. She was such a messed-up kid. The journal . . .” Josh is visibly sweating.

“She didn’t mention you by name.”

He exhales.

“And it’s only one entry that I can find so far.”

“Because it only happened once.” The needle on the car keeps climbing, and I want to tell him to calm down, but we need to get to Finn as fast as we can, so I don’t.

“Right,” I say, but I’m not sure that I believe him about the kiss. “I didn’t tell Alisha I had it because there are clues in here that might help me figure out what Cash was intending to do to Finn and where he might be now.”

“I thought Yaz’s mom said the police have it,” Josh says.

“Well, they don’t.”

“Where was it?” Josh asks.

If I tell him, he might not help me find Finn.

Josh pounds his fist on the steering wheel. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay. I went to Finn’s bedroom to talk to him and kind of crept in. I saw him push a brown leather book I’d never seen before into his bookcase and grab another one real fast. I knew right away.”

“Christ, Sarah.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. There must be evidence in here, and if Martin had it and knew that, he’d just burn the journal or bury it in a place no one would ever find it, but maybe Finn wouldn’t let him or stole it. Finn still keeps the birthday cards I give him. He probably didn’t want to ditch his girlfriend’s last words.”

“Or he was covering something up.”

I’m not sure yet—how will I ever be sure? So I say nothing.

I reread the part about her meeting me for the first time and sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Josh asks. “You can’t make sounds like that right now without an explanation.” He veers onto the McKees Rocks Bridge, leading home.

I suck in a deep breath. “Yazmin thought I made fun of her for taking off her shoes before she came into my house.”

“Brilliant,” Josh says.

“And she seemed to think we owed her something. It sounds like they were planning to rob us.”

Josh glances at me sympathetically.

I don’t mention the part about how I touched her in a way she hadn’t preferred. I’d misread her shyness for rudeness, and all the while, she was struggling with intimacy issues, listening to her own mother put herself in terrible situations to pay the bills.

I’m speed-reading, which seems disrespectful to her in itself. Yazmin’s delicate thoughts should be carefully digested, preserved, honored, but I still can’t figure out why Cash would want to hurt Finn. I’m looking for clues everywhere. I’ve already misunderstood so much.

“What do you make of this?” I read the part of the journal that’s been grinding at me day and night, written so cryptically, I feel like I’m missing the hidden message. “We only want a million. Cash said it needed to be an amount that could fit in a suitcase. I think it’s the amount Cash needs to move on. It will help us all move on. That amount of money is probably nothing to these people. Maybe if I get Cash what he wants, he’ll compromise and let me have what I want too—Finn. The money doesn’t matter to me. Money might help Mom out, but it will never bring Dad back.”

“Jesus. And you didn’t take that to the cops?” Josh asks.

“My family is the cops, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Right.” Josh softens for the first time since we left Alisha’s, and I think he understands my dilemma. If the police had this journal and did nothing with it, then they never will. Alton is the police.

“I will take it to the detective on the case, outside of the borough, but I need more than this. This isn’t proof of anything.”

“Not to ask personal questions, but does your son have access to that kind of money?”

“A million dollars? No!” I laugh.

“Does he have access to any money where a crazy idea like this could’ve worked?”