Page 77 of Rescue

“Are we looking at this, or not?” Reed asks.

Stepping off the road, I’m no longer surprised it was so hard to find the marker. Morrison’s grave is tucked behind a rather large tomb several plots off the road and nestled between two headstones. The most identifying characteristic is the row of metal barriers to keep people from getting directly to the grave. Of course, that hasn’t stopped fans from leaving all manner of things there from flowers to wine bottles to balloons to a mystifying number of brightly colored hair ties attached to the barriers.

“How’d he end up here, anyway?” Cash asks, his voice quiet, apparently inspired to show some respect at the grave of one of his idols. “Was he living here?”

“I don’t think so,” Reed says. “I think he was just visiting when he died. Or performing, maybe. There was some controversy about his death, Paige was telling me last night.”

“Didn’t listen to many of the details though, did ya?” Daltrey mutters half under his breath.

“He was so young,” Lance says, shaking his head. “Only twenty-seven. Why does that always happen to musicians? Is it a curse?”

From the corner of my eye I see every Ransome turn his head in Lennon’s direction before turning quickly back to the gravestone. He immediately goes tense, and I clutch his hand tighter.

“It’s drugs, man,” Dylan says, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter who you are, you start down that path, it’s pretty easy to end up here.”

James’s gaze flicks in my direction, and it’s my turn to get tense.

We stand by the grave for a few minutes, the boys taking some pictures, Lennon and me standing in silence. When it’s time to go, I’m relieved. I don’t want to think about all the mistakes a man like that must have made to end up buried in a half-hidden grave thousands of miles from home. I don’t want to think about all the ways I’ve made the same mistakes. And I certainly don’t want to think about Lennon anywhere near that path.

“Paige and the girls are on their way with the cars,” Reed says, reading something on his phone. “I guess we’re going to head up to Montmartre now.”

“Is that where that church is?” I ask Lennon. He looks down at me, his expression almost surprised. Almost like he forgot I was standing at his side.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sacre Coeur. We saw it from the clock at d’Orsay.”

“That will be nice to see,” I say, not liking how tight his face is.

He barely manages a smile. “Yeah.”

The cars are waiting for us at the front entrance, Paige and Karen leaning against one of the doors. “Did you have fun?” Paige calls as we approach.

“Yeah, peachy,” Levi says. “We wandered around for two hours, lost and freezing.”

“We had agreattime,” Karen tells him.

“Did you spend all your money?”

She kisses his cheek. “Most of it.”

“Well, we’ll all have fun this afternoon,” Paige says. “I have everything planned for Montmartre. We have that concert tonight, of course. But we can do plenty of sightseeing during the day. First we’ll have lunch, then we’ll go to Sacre Coeur and see the views of the city. AndthenI booked Le Petit Train de Montmartre for a tour and—”

“Wait, wait,” Levi says, holding up his hands. “You booked the what now?”

“Le Petit Train de Montmartre.”

“The little train?” he translates. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s this adorable little train that drives you around the neighborhood so you can see everything without having to walk up so many hills!” She sounds thrilled by the very idea of riding around in a miniature train with the members of Ransom. “Apparently it’s very hilly there. I saw pictures online. It’s so cute!”

When she’s met by nothing but blank—and, in Cash’s case, slightly horrified—stares, she crosses her arms. “Or you could plan your afternoon activities yourselves, since you had such good luck with that this morning.”

“Of course we’re going to join you,” Reed says quickly. “That, uh, little train sounds… nice.”

She beams at him. “It will be.”

I look up at Lennon, grinning, sure that he’ll be as amused by this entire exchange as I am. But as soon as my eyes find his face, my heart drops. Because Lennon looks every bit as blank as he did back at the grave. “Len?” I say. Again, he looks almost surprised to see me. Wherever his brain is, it’s not here with us.

“You know what,” I say, making up my mind immediately. “I’m really tired, Paige. Would you be mad if Lennon and I went back to the hotel? I barely slept last night.”