Read Online The 39 Clues [Cahills vs. Vespers] 05 - Trust No One by Linda Sue Park - Free Book Online Page A

to her playlists, looking at photos.
    Which were mostly of himself and Atticus. Almost none of her, as she had always been the one wielding the camera.
    “Look,” Atticus said. He clicked the Gmail icon. “Dr. James said she and Mom e-mailed each other. Maybe Mom e-mailed Dr. Siffright, too.” He sat with his fingers poised over the keyboard. “Username?”
    “I know that!” Jake said. “She used it for almost all her stuff. Her first initial and last name —”
    “Okay, so ‘arosenbloom’ —”
    “— except she made it a pun, like this: ‘a-r-o-s-e- I -n-b-l-o-o-m.’ Get it? ‘A rose in bloom.’” Jake grinned. “Hey, that could be your username, too.”
    Atticus made a face. “Yeah, right.”
    He typed in the username. “What about a password?” he asked.
    Jake groaned. “Don’t have a clue. It could be anything. Try her birthday.”
    No good. They tried other dates: their dad’s birthday and their own, and Atticus even managed to remember the date of their parents’ wedding anniversary. Address, zip code, phone number.
    More no good.
    “Classics stuff, maybe?” Atticus suggested. He tried several famous Greek and Latin names and titles of works that Astrid had loved. “Homer” and
“Iliad”
didn’t work. Neither did “Plutarch,” “Sophocles,” or “Herodotus,” “Electra,” “Orpheus,” and every Greek god they could think of. All epic fails.
    “Any one of those could be right, but if she added numbers to the end, we’re screwed,” Jake said.
    Atticus frowned. “Mom wasn’t a numbers person. She always said names were easier for her to remember than dates.”
    Jake sat up straighter. “In that case —” He reached over and turned the laptop toward him so he could type on it. Eleven dots filled the password space. He hit RETURN .
    Bingo — her inbox!
    “Cool!” Atticus exclaimed. “What was it?”
    “Your idea,” Jake said. “You said names, so I typed in ours.”
    Astrid’s password was JAKEATTICUS.
    The brothers smiled at each other, more happy than sad.

    “Dan! Amy! Come quick — we found something!”
    Atticus was hanging halfway out of the car window, waving wildly.
    Amy and Dan broke into a run.
    Amy hadn’t thought it possible for her to feel any more urgency about the hostages than she already felt. But Alistair’s death had doubled her dread.
    They got into the backseat and Atticus shoved the laptop at them.
    “Do these numbers mean anything to you?”
    It was a long list of numbers separated by colons:
    1:2
    5:1
    10:3
    12:3
    12:6
    20:2
    26:3
    4:2
    25:2
    33:3
    9:1
    36:1
    40:5
    44:5
    38:1
    5:2
    40:2
    46:1
    27:1
    Amy shook her head. Dan shrugged. “What are they?” he asked.
    “We don’t know, either,” Atticus said.
    “Wait,” Jake said. “We need to back up a little.” He explained about getting into Astrid’s e-mail account. “And we found some e-mails from LaCher Siffright. She sent them right before Mom died. Look.”
    Jake toggled to the inbox and clicked on one of the messages.
    Time for me to go on vacation! How are you? I realized that I need a break, so I’m hunkering down at one of my favorite spots. I’ll send you some more info about this lovely site. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself!
    Cheers, LaCher
    “And then she sent this one, with the numbers, on the same day.”
    Astrid: Here are the figures you requested. Hope these work for you. Cheers, LaCher
    P.S. Don’t forget the lucky horsemen!
    “Lucky horsemen? What’s that about?” Amy asked. It was almost as if she had spoken automatically. Or as if only a part of her had asked the question. The other part was still with the hostages . . . and Uncle Alistair.
    On the one hand, it felt wrong to be torn so quickly from thinking about him; on the other, she was grateful to have something that took her thoughts away from his death.
    Always complicated. Will things ever be simple again?
    “No clue,” Jake answered. “Mom didn’t have anything to do with horses or