“Mia said Taylor has been spending a lot of time on her dad’s boat with a mysterious boyfriend,” I say. “Have you seen her here?”
Jack shrugs. “Nah, but their boat is on the other side of the club. Far from mine.” He points to a bunch of boats to the left of the clubhouse. “I got Andrew Murray’s slip number from Roger, the security guard.”
“Do you think it’s possible that Taylor’s boyfriend has been living there all winter?” Gracie asks.
Or maybe possible thatJayhas been living there?
Jack frowns, then looks at the boats around us. “Yeah, it’s possible. This club technically doesn’t allow winter liveaboard, but I’ve been here most nights anyway. Security looks the other way for a lot of shit here. There aren’t a ton of people around this time of year, so it’d be easy to hide someone.” He raises his brows suddenly, probably realizing it’s Jay who I believe has been here all winter, not Taylor’s mysterious boyfriend.
But the more I think about it, the more I know it’s incredibly unlikely that Jay has been hiding out on a boat all winter. Right here—in downtown Toronto the whole time?
But I need to know. Even if he’s notmyJay ... the one from the five-months-ago timeline, even if he has no idea who I am or why I’m here, I need to know that he’s okay.
I glance over at the boats with the opaque white plastic around them. “Where is Andrew Murray’s boat?”
Jack points. “It’s over—”
“Shit,” Gracie interrupts, looking in the direction of the club entrance. Taylor is coming down the gangplank. She’s talking to a man behind her. Maybe there reallyisa secret boyfriend?
We rush off the bridge and duck behind a sailboat, but I peek to watch them. The guy is tall and very well dressed—not in a suit, but the pants and dress shirt he’s wearing fit perfectly. He’s Black with medium-brown skin and close-cropped hair. Very good-looking, but clearly a lot older than Taylor. He’s carrying reusable grocery bags from a gourmet store.
Jack motions us over to a sailboat a few slips away from the one we’re behind. It’s enormous. Seriously. Like, bigger than my house. “Is this what your boat looks like?” I ask Jack when we get to it.
He shakes his head. “Nah. Mine’s a bit bigger.”
Gracie peeks out from behind the boat. “They’re headed left from the bridge. Should we follow?”
“They’ll see us,” I say.
“Give them five minutes or so, then we go snoop.”
I exhale. This guy must be the mysterious boyfriend, which means ... Jay isn’t here. But still. Somethingisgoing on with Taylor. I’m sure of it. Jay’s message to me was clear:Wednesday took him home.And Taylor is Wednesday. But where is home? Her dad’s boat? Her mother’s house?
I don’t know what yet, but my gut is telling me that something is going to happen here today.
TWENTY-SIX
After giving Taylor and her companion a healthy head start, we quietly make our way over to the slip where Lance and Taylor’s father keeps his boat. The boats on this part of the club are older than the ones we were hiding behind. Some are in bad shape ... but most are well maintained. Following Jack, we turn at the end of a dock to an even more secluded area. This would be a great place to hide. Jack motions us to squeeze in beside a wooden sailboat covered with clear wrap, and quietly points to the boat next to it, mouthing, “It’s that one.”
I nod.
Unlike the other boats, Andrew Murray’s sailboat isn’t covered with shrink wrap. It’s not huge, at least compared to some of the others we’ve seen, but it’s big enough for someone to live on. I can see an open window to the cabin below deck. Very quietly, Jack moves closer to the boat and crouches near the window. I follow him. Gracie wordlessly stays where she is, closer to the main docks, keeping watch. Voices bleed from the window. It’s Taylor and, I assume, her mystery man. I turn on the voice recorder, but I’m not sure I’ll get a clear recording from outside.
“Why is he still sleeping?” Taylor asks, annoyed. “Fuck. He’s driving me up the wall. How much longer do I have to coddle him?”
“Another few weeks, tops,” a man’s voice says, I assume the boyfriend.
“I can’t even stand the sight of him,” Taylor says. “Lance should have thrownhimoverboard ...” Her spoiled voice is so distinctive. Even if I didn’t see her, I’d know it was her.
“Shhh. We’re so close, Taylor. This is bigger than you and Lance.”
“You all owe me. I can’t even believe I’m related tothat.”
Does this mean shedoeshave Jay on the boat? I start to get up, intending to burst in and get to him, but Jack holds me back, pressing his finger to his lips to quiet me.
“Sounds like he’s awake,” the man says.
I open a text with Gracie on my phone.
