"That's not surprising. I'm sure this is part of the bookstore. Maybe where they keep inventory."
"Probably. But maybe it was once a club."
She looked around the area. "It has that feel of a club entrance, with the ramp from the sidewalk and the door here. I wish the owner was here, so we could ask. We'll have to come back tomorrow."
"Maybe we don't need her—just Walter. If we bring him here, he might recognize the entrance even without the red door."
She frowned at that suggestion. "I don't think we should bring him here until we know for sure this is the place. Otherwise, he might get upset or more confused."
"You could be right," he muttered.
"Let's go next door," she said impulsively. "I wouldn't mind getting a gelato, and maybe someone there knows the history of this place."
"Why not," he said with a low level of enthusiasm, but she didn't really care. She wanted to know more about the mysterious club, and she also wanted to know more about him. A trip next door might help satisfy at least one of her questions.
The gelato store was crowded, and as they waited in line, her gaze swept across the tubs of interesting-looking flavors. "What are you going to get?"
"Probably chocolate or vanilla."
"With all these flavors?" she asked.
"I'm not that big on ice cream."
"This isn't ice cream; it's gelato."
"I don't know the difference."
"Well, I don't, either. But I've been here before, and their gelato is homemade in the back. Last time I got the salted caramel, and it was delicious. They let you mix flavors, too."
Amusement warmed his gaze. "You're very excited about this," he said.
"Like I said, it's really good."
"Then get two of whatever you're getting."
"Really? You're going to trust my opinion?"
"You've been here before. It doesn't seem like too big a risk."
"Okay, I accept the challenge."
"It wasn't a challenge. It's just a gelato order."
"But I want to get you something you'll like. Since I know absolutely nothing about you, that makes it trickier. But I do know that you like chocolate and vanilla and probably don't want to veer too far from the basics, so I think I've got it."
"What?"
"You'll see," she said, tossing him a smile. A moment later, they stepped up to the counter, and she ordered two cups of dark chocolate mixed with black cherry. Since the teenage girl filling their order didn't look like she'd know much about the building next door, she waited until they had their cups of gelato and were moving toward the cash register where an older woman was ringing up customers.
"Hello," she said. "Are you the owner by chance?"
"I am. Nancy Holmgren. Is there a problem?"
"No problem. We were just wondering if you know anything about the building next door, if it was always a bookstore, or if it was possibly a nightclub at some point?"
Nancy's gaze widened. "That's an odd question."
"A friend of mine, an older man, is trying to remember where this club he used to go to was located," she explained. "He said it had a red door, and someone else thought it might have been where the bookstore is now, but the owner of the bookstore isn't in today, so I was hoping you might know."
