第 5 页

was flipping through. But why remember it in such a weird way?

It didn't matter. The problem was solved, and Cassie was so happy that she felt like hugging her pillow.

Of course, of course!

Before the skull ceremony Diana had said the skull should be buried for purification-in moist sand. Adam

had found it on the island buried in sand. Right below Diana's back door was a whole beach of sand.

Cassie could hear the ocean breaking on it this minute.

The question was, could she find the exact place in the sand the skull was buried?

Faye was in writing class. And she was furious.

"I waited up all night," she hissed, grabbing Cassie by the arm. "What happened?"

"I couldn't get it. It wasn't there."

Faye's golden eyes narrowed and the long red-tipped fingers on Cassie's arm tightened. "You're lying."

"No," Cassie said. She cast an agonized glance around and then whispered, "I think I know where it is,

but you have to give me time."

Faye was staring at her, those strange eyes raking hers. Then she relaxed slightly and smiled. "Of course,

Cassie. All the time you need. Until Saturday."

"That may not be long enough-"

"It'll just have to be, won't it?" Faye drawled.

"Because after that I tell Diana." She let go and Cassie walked to her own desk. There was nothing else

to do.

They had a minute of silence at the beginning of class for Mr. Fogle. Cassie spent the minute staring at

her entwined fingers, thinking alternately of the dark rushing thing inside the skull and Doug Henderson's

tip-tilted blue-green eyes.

At lunch there was a note taped on the glass door of the back room in the cafeteria. Outside in front, it

said. Cassie turned from it and almost ran into Adam.

He was approaching with a loaded tray, and he lifted it to stop her from knocking it all over him.

"Whoa," he said.

Cassie flushed. But then, as they stood facing each other, she discovered a more serious problem.

Adam's smile had faded, she couldn't stop flushing, and neither of them seemed to be going anywhere.

Eyes in the cafeteria were on them. Talk about deja vu, Cassie thought. Every time I'm in here I'm the

center of attention.

Finally, Adam made an abortive attempt to catch her elbow, stopped himself, and gestured her forward

courteously. Cassie didn't know how he did it, but Adam managed to carry off courtesy like no guy she

had ever known. It seemed to come naturally to him.

Girls looked up as they went by, some of them casting sideways glances at Adam. But these were

different than the sideways glances Cassie had seen on the beach at Cape Cod. There, he'd been

dressed in his scruffy fishing-boat clothes, and Portia's girlfriends had averted their eyes in disdain. These

glances were shy, or inviting, or hopeful. Adam just tossed an unruly strand of red hair off his forehead

and smiled at them.

Outside, the members of the Club were gathered on the steps. Even Nick was there. Cassie started

toward them, and then a large shape bounded up and planted its front feet on her shoulders.

"Raj, get down! What are you doing?" Adam yelled.

A wet, warm tongue was lapping Cassie's face. She tried to fend the dog off, grabbing for the fur at the

back of his neck, and ended it by hugging him.

"I think he's just saying 'hi,' " she gasped.

"He's usually so good about waiting just off campus until I get out of school. I don't know why-" Adam

broke off. "Raj, get down," he muttered in a changed voice. "Now!" he said, and snapped his fingers.

The lapping tongue withdrew, but the German shepherd stayed by Cassie's side as she walked over to

the steps. She patted the dog's head.

"Raj usually hates new people," Sean observed as Cassie and Adam sat down. "So how come he always

likes you so much?"

Cassie could feel Faye's mocking eyes on her and she shrugged uncomfortably, staring down into her

lunch sack. Then something occurred to her: one of those witty comebacks she usually only thought of

the next day.

Cassie could feel Faye's mocking eyes on her and she shrugged uncomfortably, staring down into her

lunch sack. Then something occurred to her: one of those witty comebacks she usually only thought of

the next day.

"All right, let's get down to business," Diana said then. "I brought us out here to make sure nobody's

listening. Anybody have any new ideas?"

"Any one of us could have done it," Melanie said quietly.

"Only some of us had any reason to," Adam replied.

"Why?" said Laurel. "I mean, just because Mr. Fogle was obnoxious wasn't a reason to murder him. And

quit grinning like that, Doug, unless you really did do something."

"Maybe Fogle knew too much," Suzan said unexpectedly. Everyone turned to her, but she went on

unwrapping a Hostess cupcake without looking up.

"So?" said Deborah at last. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well . . ." Suzan raised china-blue eyes to look around at the group. "Fogle always got here at the crack

of dawn, didn't he? And his office is right up there, isn't it?" She nodded, and Cassie followed her gaze to

a window on the second floor of the red-brick building. Then Cassie looked down the hill, to the bottom

where Kori had been found.

There was a pause, and then Diana said, "Oh, my God."

"What?" Chris demanded, looking around. Deborah scowled and Laurel blinked. Faye was chuckling.

"She's saying he might have seen Kori's murderer," Adam said. "And then whoever killed her, killed him

to keep him from talking. But do we know he was here that morning?"

Cassie was now staring from the second-story window to the chimney that rose from the school. It had

been cold the morning they found Kori dead, and the principal had a fireplace in his office. Had there

been smoke rising from the chimney that morning?

"You know," she said softly to Diana, "I think he was here."

"Then that could be it," Laurel said excitedly. "And it would mean it couldn't have been one of us who

killed him-because whoever killed him killed Kori, too. And none of us would have done that."

Diana was looking vastly relieved, and there were nods around the Circle. A little voice inside Cassie

was trying to say something, but she pushed it down.

Nick, however, had his lip curled. "And who besides one of us would have been able to drop an

avalanche on somebody?"

"Anybody with a stick or a crowbar," Deborah snapped. "Those rocks on the cliff at Devil's Cove are

just piled up any old way. An outsider could've done it easy. So it's back to the question of which of

them did it-if we have to ask anymore." There was a hunting light in her face, and Chris and Doug were

looking eager.

"You leave Sally alone until we figure this out," Diana said flatly.

"And Jeffrey," Faye added throatily, with a meaningful look. Deborah glared at her, then at last dropped

her eyes.

"And Jeffrey," Faye added throatily, with a meaningful look. Deborah glared at her, then at last dropped

her eyes.

The meeting degenerated, and shortly after that the bell rang.

"Who are you going to ask to Homecoming?" Laurel asked Cassie that afternoon. They were driving

home from school with Diana and Melanie.

"Oh . . ." Cassie was taken aback. "1 haven't thought about it. I-I've never asked a guy to a dance in my

life."

"Well, now's the time to start," Melanie said. "Usually the outsiders don't ask us-they're a little scared.

But you can have any guy you want; just pick him and tell him to show up." . "Just like that?"

"Yep," Laurel said cheerfully. "Like that. Of course, Melanie and I don't usually ask guys who're together

with somebody. But Faye and Suzan . . ." She rolled her eyes. "They like picking guys who're taken."

"I've noticed," Cassie said. There was no question about whom Diana went to dances with. "What about

Deborah?"

"Oh, Deb usually just goes stag," said Laurel. "She and the Hendersons hang out, playing cards and stuff

in the boiler room. And Sean just goes from girl to girl to girl; none of them like him, but they're all too

scared not to dance with him. You'll see it there; it's funny."

"1 probably won't see it," Cassie said. The idea of walking up to some guy and ordering him to escort her

was simply unthinkable. Impossible, even if she was a witch. She might as well tell everybody now and

let them get used to it. "I probably won't go. I don't like dances much."

"But you have to go," Laurel said, dismayed, and Diana said, "It's the most fun-really, Cassie. Look, let's

go to my house right now and talk about guys you can ask."

"No, I've got to go straight home," Cassie said quickly. She had to go home because she had to look for

the skull. Faye's words had been ringing in the back of her mind all day, and now they drowned out

Diana's voice. All the time you need-until Saturday. "Please just drop me off at my house."

In silence that was bewildered and a little hurt, Diana complied.

All that week, Cassie looked for the skull.

She looked on the beach where her initiation had been held, where stumps of candles and pools of

melted wax could still be seen half buried in the sand. She looked on the beach below Diana's house,

among the eelgrass and driftwood. She looked up and down the bluffs, walking on the dunes each

afternoon and evening. It made sense that Diana would have marked the place somehow, but with what

kind of mark? Any bit of flotsam or jetsam on the sand could be it.

As each day went by she got more and more worried. She'd been so sure she could find it; it was just a

matter of looking. But now it seemed she'd looked at every inch of beach for miles, and all she'd found

was sea wrack and a few old beer bottles.

On Saturday morning she stepped out of the front door to see a bright-red car circling in the cul-de-sac a

little past her grandmother's house. There was no building at the very point of the headland where the

road dead-ended, but the car was circling there. As Cassie stood in the doorway, it turned and cruised

slowly by her house. It was Faye's Corvette ZR1, and Faye was in it, one languid arm drooping out of

the window.

On Saturday morning she stepped out of the front door to see a bright-red car circling in the cul-de-sac a

little past her grandmother's house. There was no building at the very point of the headland where the

road dead-ended, but the car was circling there. As Cassie stood in the doorway, it turned and cruised

slowly by her house. It was Faye's Corvette ZR1, and Faye was in it, one languid arm drooping out of

the window.

Sunset.

She went cruising on without a backward look. Cassie stared after her.

Cassie knew what she meant. By sunset, either Cassie brought the skull to Faye, or Faye told Diana.

I have to find it, Cassie thought. I don't care if I have to sift through every square inch of sand from here

to the mainland. I have to find it.

But that day was just like the others. She crawled on her knees over the beach near the initiation site,

getting sand inside her jeans, in her shoes. She found nothing.

The ocean rolled and roared beside her, the smell of salt and decaying seaweed filled her nostrils. As the

sun slipped farther and farther down in the west, the crescent moon over the ocean glowed brighter.

Cassie was exhausted and terrified, and she was giving up hope.

Then, as the sky was darkening, she saw the ring of stones.

She'd passed by them a dozen times before. They were bonfire stones, stained black with charcoal. But

what were they doing so close to the waterline? At high tide, Cassie thought, they'd be covered. She

knelt beside them and touched the sand in their center.

Moist.

With fingers that trembled slightly, she dug there. Dug deeper and deeper until her fingertips touched

something hard.

She dug around it, feeling the curve of its shape, until she had loosened enough sand to lift it out. It was

shockingly heavy and covered with a thin white cloth. Cassie didn't need to remove the cloth to know

what it was.

She felt like hugging it.

She'd done it! She'd found the skull, and now she could take it to Faye. . . .

The feeling of triumph died inside her. Faye. Could she really take the skull to Faye?

All the time she'd been looking for it, finding it hadn't been real to her. She hadn't thought further than

simply getting her hands on it.

Now that she was actually holding it, now that the possibility was before her . . . she couldn't do it.

The thought of those hooded golden eyes examining it, of those fingers with their long red nails gripping it,

made Cassie feel sick. An image flitted through her mind, of a golden-eyed falcon with its talons

extended. A bird of prey.

She couldn't go through with it.

But then what about Diana? Cassie's head bent in exhaustion, in defeat. She didn't know what to do

about Diana. She didn't know how to solve anything. All she knew was that she couldn't hand the skull

over to Faye.

There was a throat-clearing sound behind her.

"I knew you could do it," Faye said in her husky voice as Cassie, still on her knees, spun around to look.

"I had complete faith in you, Cassie. And now my faith is justified."

"How did you know?" Cassie was on her feet. "How did you know where I was?"

Faye smiled. "I told you I have friends who see a lot. One of them just brought me the news."