He'd always had the opposite problem. He'd been very self-aware but completely blind when it came to other people. Hopefully, he wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Was there anything else you learned about Anita?" he asked, thinking that was a safer topic than wondering just how fast Kaia might go with someone she was attracted to.
"Mostly just about her career as an artist," Kaia answered. "Nothing really personal. It seemed that she stopped performing in her forties, which was a long time ago." She straightened as they turned down the block where the bookstore was located. "I hope the owner is in. I really want to get some answers today."
Chapter Seven
When they entered the bookstore, a white-haired woman with sparkling blue eyes was at the counter and introduced herself as Ellen Danbury, the owner of the store. Since the shop had just opened, they were the only customers, which made conversation easier.
"My name is Kaia Mercer. This is Jax Ridley. We have kind of a strange question," Kaia said. "We were wondering if this bookstore was ever a nightclub, possibly named the Starlight Lounge. It would have been a long?—"
"Of course," Ellen said, cutting them off with a smile. "The basement was the club, and this part of the building was where my grandfather once lived. He opened the club at the end of Prohibition, or possibly before, but he would never admit to that."
"Did it happen to have a red door?" she asked, energized by her response.
"It did. Why are you interested?"
"A friend of ours, an older man named Walter Cobb, said that he used to go to the club with a red door, and he couldn't remember where it was. He's in his early eighties now."
"Well, that sounds about right, because the club was shut down about thirty years ago when my grandfather passed away. My father, his son, didn't want to run a nightclub, so he turned the building into a printing business. When he retired, that business was done, so I opened the bookstore, and I've been selling books for the past twenty years." Ellen paused. "Does that help?"
"It does," she said. "Is there anything in the basement now?"
"It's basically a storage room for all its past purposes. I've been meaning to clean it out for years, but it's such a big job. My husband was going to do it, but he fell ill several years ago, and between taking care of him and the store, I just haven't had the time. We use our back room for inventory, so the storage downstairs encompasses junk from generations of my family."
She was thrilled that no one had been using the basement. Maybe there would still be signs of the past. "Would it be possible for us to see it?"
Ellen hesitated. "Sure. Why not?" She motioned for the young man they'd spoken to the day before to take over the register. "Follow me." She led them through the store and down a back staircase where she unlocked a door, opened it, and then turned on the lights.
"It's big," she said in surprise, her gaze sweeping the large space. She could see the area that had once been the bar, and there was a raised platform at the far end of the room where a dusty piano still sat on what had probably been the stage.
"It's a mess." Ellen waved her hand at the cluttered room. "But you're welcome to look around." She paused as her phone rang. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
As Ellen left, she turned to Jax with excitement speeding up her pulse. "What do you think?"
"It feels like an old club. Even with all the other stuff."
"I can almost picture a smoky nightclub with someone playing that piano."
Jax wandered over to that area as she spoke. When he got on the stage, he looked at the piano for a long moment, then opened the cover over the keys, creating a cloud of dust. He stared at the keyboard for a long minute, his expression filled with what looked like reverence. She found herself holding her breath, wondering what he would do next, because he seemed to be completely mesmerized by the piano keys. And she didn't think his mind was on Walter or the old nightclub. There was something else going on, something far more personal.
He'd jumped all over her for turning on the car radio yesterday, and now he was staring at a piano like it was his long-lost love. She couldn't make that add up.
Her breath caught in her throat as he stretched out his hand, his fingertips brushing the keys. And then he abruptly pulled back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he rocked back on his heels. He gave the piano another long look as if he were in some sort of battle with an inanimate object. Then he took his hands out of his pockets and closed the cover.
As it slammed shut, she said, "I thought you might play something."
He whirled around as if he'd just realized she was there. A mask came down over his expression, making him feel cold and distant once more. "No," he said. "I'm not going to play."
"But you know how to play, don't you?"
"We should go. There's nothing to see here."
"We haven't really looked, Jax. You got distracted by the piano."
He tipped his head, conceding her point. "It reminded me of the piano my grandfather had in his house, probably built around the same time."
He'd finally told her something personal, which made her want more, but she knew he'd bolt if she asked for more. She needed to keep the focus on Reina. "What do you think Reina would have left for Walter in this club?"
