That got him angry again. “So, you think she’s my only source of information? I know that Baylor’s sister was at school making all kinds of demands. What I don’t know is why she picked on you.”
I smiled into his face with a rush of confidence. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He pulled up to the pay booth at Pacific Road Gate and handed some bills through the window. The road swept around a bay, through the woods, and past homes that looked both unattainable and as down-to-earth as their natural surroundings.
“Well?” he asked.
“You know that I found a Baylor record last weekend. What I didn’t say is that Sean Baylor wasn’t a solo act. He had a partner. I managed to find the guy, and the word got back to Baylor’s sister. She made some pretty nasty threats.”
“Wow.” He looked stunned, not in a drugged Critter way, but like a guy who was just realizing that his link to Baylor’s family had been right in front of him all of the time.
We passed golf courses and country clubs, and then, some of the oldest Monterey cypresses in the world. Ahead of us, apparently blooming out of a garden of rocks, was the Lone Cypress Tree.
“Look at that,” I said. “It’s been around about two hundred fifty-something years, clinging to those rocks and surviving.”
“You want to stop?”
The tiny parking lot was full of visitors, and the sky was deepening, more indigo now than blue.
“Maybe another time.”
He turned and gave me the look again. “Is that a promise?”
“I wish it could be, but considering the length of our workshop, I can’t promise much.”
“Sure you can,” he said. “My mom and I talked last night. I’m not going to school in New Jersey. I want to live in California. Here, actually.”
“Oh.” I could barely catch my breath.
He pretended not to notice. “I know we’ve had problems, Logan, but would you consider working together now?”
The question I’d been dying to hear, and there it was.
“Maybe,” I said. “If you tell me what you’re really doing here and why you’re so interested in him.”
“I told you. I’m here because of my music.”
“And you really do think getting your article published is going to help your music career?”
“I know so.” He reached out his hand again, and I took it even though I knew I shouldn’t. “Please let’s work together.”
“Meaning tell you what Baylor’s sister told me?”
“For starters.”
“Not much. She was really nasty and condescending. A Cancer.”
“Which means?” His voice still held some challenge, but not as much as before. And his fingers laced in mine were warm.
“Deep emotions, and maybe some mother issues. Loyal to the death when it comes to family.” Then it hit me. “Jeremy, she’s the one living in Sean Baylor’s house on this drive. A Cancer would never break those ties to family.”
“So when we find the house, we find Baylor’s sister?” he asked.
“Yes, we will, but I’m guessing it’s inside one of those gated communities. Ren said that she kept all of his clothes, his car, and his sailboat.”
“The sailboat,” he said. “We’ve got to find it.”
I let go of his hand, and missed the warmth the moment I did so. “Tell me the truth. Are you serious about working together? You’re not going to accuse me of faking Baylor’s ghost anymore?”
“I did that because you were on the attack. Help me find that boat, and I promise you we’ll work as a team from now on.”
I’d have to be out of my mind to trust him after everything he had pulled.
“Let’s go,” I said.
NOTES TO SELF
Yes, I have really agreed to do this. Yes, I am sitting here beside Jeremy in the car, windows down, smelling the ocean air. And, yes, looking at him, that perfect profile. He’s staring ahead, intent on getting us to the pier. Maybe I can take one little sneak peek at Fearless Astrology. How am I going to figure out how to find the boat Sean’s Song?
17
FUNNY THING ABOUT TAURUS. THE BULL CAN RAGE
ALL DAY. HE CAN ACCUSE YOU OF EVERY CRIME. BUT
THE FIRST TIME ANYONE THREATENS YOU, JUST TELL
THAT TAURUS, AND IT WILL BE HANDLED, REGARDLESS
OF YOUR SIGN. TAURUS IS THE GREAT PROTECTOR.
—Fearless Astrology
Baylor’s sailboat had to be out here somewhere. It was definitely a long-term tenant, maybe the longest term of all. Once past the gate, I began scanning the sides of the boats.
Then I spotted it—much smaller than I’d imagined, its sail wrapped in a dark green fabric. Sean’s Song.
“Is that it?” Jeremy asked.
“I think so.”
“How do we know for sure?”
“The name,” I said.
He turned to look, nearly tripped. Just then, I was the one hanging on.
“Sean’s Song.” He could barely speak. “You found it, Logan.”
He scrambled aboard, and the boat rocked in the water. I was so cold, so scared that my teeth were chattering.
He lifted down a hand. I grabbed it and let him help me aboard.
Insane, absolutely insane. We were on Sean Baylor’s boat. Right now, Sean Baylor’s dipping up-and-down boat. My queasy stomach posed a question. I answered it with a single thought. Later.
Jeremy turned on a light and was already going below. I could only follow.
The first thing I saw was a small stove and other kitchen stuff to my right. Galley. That’s what they called boat kitchens, wasn’t it? Jeremy had already moved past it and the sofa tables on the left. I followed again, and found him in the boat bedroom—couldn’t remember the word for that. He sat on the edge of the bed and rifled through papers that he must have yanked out of a net attached to the side.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“Not sure.” He lifted a bulky envelope, and some photographs slid to the floor.
I picked it up. Sean Baylor and a dark-haired woman stood in front of the boat. With his arm around her, Baylor grinned at the camera. She glared at him and crossed her arms. Her dress was long and gauzy. His shirt was black, covered with a tiny purple print. Flowers.
“Baylor,” I said. “He’s wearing the same shirt he was on the cover of that Monterey Festival album.”
“He probably wore it more than once.” Jeremy was obviously pretending to stay rational. “Still, this could have been taken that night.”
Another photo showed the same woman, her hand in front of her face.
“Look,” I said. “She’s not very happy. And look at all of the people behind them. It must have been at the festival.”
“Who’s in there?” A man’s voice boomed from below the boat. I looked around wildly. No place to hide.
“Run.” Jeremy dropped the envelope. “Meet me at the car.”
Just as we cleared the galley, a large guy in a navy watch cap started to come aboard. A gold stud gleamed from his ear, and he held a lit cigarette.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He tossed his cigarette into the water.
Jeremy dodged him and scrambled over the side of the boat just as the man was coming up. They rolled to the deck, and the watch cap fell off.
I followed them, shouting. “No. Leave him alone.”
“Run,” Jeremy told me. “Get out of here.”
“Help,” I screamed, completely terrified now. “Someone, help.”
Lights flashed on in the boats around us. “What’s going on?” a deep male voice called out.
“Help us. This man . . .” Before I could finish, the guy had jumped off and was running down the deck.
Jeremy rose unsteadily to his feet, and I rushed to him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “The photos. I’ve got to go back for them.”
&
nbsp; “You can’t. That guy would have killed you. Besides . . .” I showed him what I was holding. “I got one of them.”
“Hey.” Another man’s voice.
Jeremy pulled me to him, and I shoved the photo in my pocket.
“It’s okay.” I could see him now. He must be the one who’d scared Jeremy’s attacker away. He wore jeans and a gray short-sleeved T-shirt, in spite of the weather. As he came closer, I could see that he wasn’t much older than we were, and that there was a girl with him.
“Are you kids all right?” he asked.
“Thanks to you,” I said. “I’m Logan, and this is . . .”
“Did you see the guy who attacked us?” Jeremy interrupted.
They shook their heads. “We weren’t paying any attention,” the guy said. “It’s a good thing you screamed. What were you doing out here anyway?”
I took a deep breath and headed for the nearest lie. “We got lost.”
“Yes, lost,” Jeremy echoed. “Looking for 17-Mile Drive. But we know where we are now. Thanks for your help.”
“Sure thing.” He put his arm around the woman’s waist. “You shouldn’t be around this boat so late, though. It’s not safe.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“That boat?” He pointed at Sean’s Song. “It’s supposed to be haunted.”
“How do you know that?” I said.
“Nothing’s happened exactly. Just weird lights at odd hours, and for the last couple of weeks, some music late at night. Be careful, okay?”
Then they turned and walked back the way they had come.
“We’d better get out of here,” I told Jeremy. Then I realized that he was watching me in a weird way, the light making his pale eyes look like shadows. “What is it?” I asked.
“You didn’t leave. I told you to run, and you didn’t go.”
“I couldn’t.”
We stared at each other for a moment. My mouth was completely dry, my heart still pounding.
“Man.” He shook his head. “Let’s get out of here.”
NOTES TO SELF
It was a pretty sane suggestion. Let’s get out of here. Before the guy who nearly clobbered us came back again. Before we were caught somewhere we were not supposed to be. Still, I feel he was also trying to escape from what had become a very personal connection in a very short space. And how do I feel? Still mulling, I guess.
18
WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT MARS, THINK ABOUT HOW YOU
ENGAGE IN CONFLICT. IF YOUR MARS IS IN A PEACE-
LOVING SIGN LIKE PISCES, THAT CAN TEMPER EVEN A
STORMY ARIES SUN. IF YOUR MARS IS IN SCORPIO,
YOU’LL STIR DARK, STAGNANT EMOTIONS INTO THAT
CALDRON, EVEN IF YOUR SUN SIGN IS AS BRIGHT AS LEO.
STIR IN LIBRA INSTEAD, AND YOU’LL ADD AIR-FILLED
ARGUMENT IN PLACE OF EMOTION. ASK YOURSELF HOW
YOU FEEL ABOUT CONFLICT, AND YOU PROBABLY
ALREADY KNOW WHERE YOUR MARS RESIDES.
—Fearless Astrology
Jaffa’s Mars was in Libra. According to Fearless, that meant a calm exterior and a love for verbal that meant a calm exterior and a love for verbal sparring. It could also mean someone who could swing from one side of a debate to another, with winning the only goal. Unsure about how he would react to what happened yesterday, I decided to arrive early to class.
Yes, that was Vanessa’s favorite kiss-up habit, but I was pretty sure she’d be distracted this morning by what had become an espresso ritual in our room. Since the weekend of the out-of-staters, Dirk, with his cool British accent, had become a regular. Vanessa had become much more friendly with Candice. I didn’t mind that they had gone to the play downtown together, and I wouldn’t have traded my evening—weird guy and all—to be there with them.
Sure enough, the classroom was empty. Except for Jaffa. He sat at the far table marking up what looked like one of his own books.
He lifted his head and nodded. “Come in, Logan.” Then his expression grew more serious. “So, what happened yesterday to make you miss the first part of our class?”
“You mean no one told you?”
“I haven’t asked,” he said. “I wanted to hear it from you.”
“It wasn’t my fault. Sean Baylor’s sister had them take me out.”
“ Why?”
“I’m not sure. Somehow, she found out that I was investigating her brother’s death, and she told me I had to stop.”
“That’s unacceptable,” he said. “She can’t pull a student out of my workshop because she doesn’t like the assignment I gave. The woman doesn’t have enough money to buy that kind of power.”
“She did it. And she threatened me.”
The door opened, and kids began to wander into the room. Tati was talking to Dirk. Vanessa’s voice was louder than ever, but I could see she was watching the two of them with an angry little glint in her eye. The plunging sweater of the day was white, and she had tucked that long, black hair behind her ears. If the sparkling studs she was wearing were real, her parents must be as rich as Candice’s.
Jeremy walked in last.
“Thanks for what you’ve shared with me,” Jaffa lowered his voice. “I’ll be speaking to the administrator. You don’t have to fear that woman any longer.”
“Thank you. I don’t want to be a bother. I just . . .”
Before I could finish, the door opened again, and Ren Baylor swept in. Her auburn hair was pulled back so tightly that she couldn’t grin if she had wanted to. And, believe me, she didn’t. Beside her, was a bald guy in a suit, who reminded me of Dr. West, our vice principal at home.
“You.” She pointed a finger at me.
“Hold on just a minute.” Jaffa stood. “This is a private workshop. We do not appreciate anyone interrupting us in here.”
“That girl tried to burglarize my sailboat,” Ren said. “You’re protecting a thief.”
I glanced over at Jeremy. He gave a quick shake of his head.
“I didn’t,” I said.
“There’s your answer,” Jaffa told her. “And now, if you have no proof, please leave my classroom.”
“Do you have any idea who you are talking to?”
“I might ask the same of you.” He stared right back at her. “But I would hope that I’m less self-involved than that. Now, please leave this room right now, before I get really angry.”
“Dr. Fletcher?” She glared at the man beside her.
“We need to discuss this back in my office,” the man told her. “This isn’t the same as a regular class. Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Jaffa.”
“I can prove it,” she said. “The security camera at the gate caught her coming through.”
Jaffa ignored her. “Just escort the lady out,” he told Fletcher. “If this happens again, I’ll take the workshop elsewhere.”
I could barely breathe for the rest of the class period. The security camera. Why hadn’t I thought about that? Thank goodness, Jaffa didn’t call on me. He said that our next assignment was the lead for our articles, and I wrote it down with shaking fingers.
Finally, class was over. I started for the door.
“Logan?”
I stopped. I turned slowly back to Jaffa’s desk, unable to imagine what fate was in store for me.
Jeremy jerked his head and tried to tell me something with his eyes. Vanessa gawked. Tati and Candice looked confused. Slowly, everyone left the room.
“Sit, please.” I pulled a chair up beside his. “Now,” he said. “Why did you lie?”
“I’m sorry.” Tears filled my eyes, and I was so embarrassed that I wanted to run out of the room. “That woman, Sean Baylor’s sister, said she’d have me thrown out of class, and she’d do it, too.”
“Why did you go on that boat?”
“To look for clues about Baylor.” Might as well spill what he had probably already figured out. “As I said earlier, when I was home last weekend, my dad gave me an old Sean Baylor record. It’s
called an LP.”
“I’m familiar with them. Please go on.”
“There was a photograph of Baylor’s drummer on it, and I managed to find him.”
“Here in Monterey?”
I nodded miserably. “Somehow, Baylor’s sister found out that I had talked to Cookie, the drummer, and that’s why she had me pulled out of class yesterday.”
“And then you decided to investigate the boat?”
I nodded again. “But not to steal anything. My goal is to study Baylor from an astrological perspective. Although it may not seem that way, I’m very serious about writing, and all I want is a chance to learn from you.”
His expression didn’t change. “Who was with you last night?”
I paused, then muttered, “No one.”
“Do you expect me to believe that you went out at night, alone, and went aboard that boat?”
Before I could answer, I heard a noise and looked up. Jeremy stood at the entrance of the room, his stance as arrogant as ever, shiny black hair covering his forehead.
“Did you forget something?” Jaffa asked him.
“Actually, I remembered something.” He walked closer to where we sat. “I remembered that Logan would probably lie to protect me.”
“Indeed.”
Just what I needed. My face must be scarlet for sure.
“I’m the reason she was out there,” Jeremy said. “I was the one who wanted to investigate Baylor’s boat. So, if anyone’s getting kicked out of this workshop . . .”
“No one’s getting kicked out.” Jaffa’s voice was cold. “You kids took a big chance going out there alone. What if something had happened to you?”
“Something almost did,” Jeremy said. “That’s the other reason I came back here. When we were leaving last night, I was attacked by a guy who must have been hanging around outside. Logan screamed, and a couple came from one of the other boats. They scared the guy off.”
“They told us that Baylor’s boat is supposed to be haunted,” I said, in a wavering voice. “The man who helped us said they hear music late at night.”
“Really?” Jaffa stroked his chin. “This is an angle the Ghost Seekers people haven’t even considered. You’re planning to return, of course.”
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