Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Later that afternoon, with his laundry done and the heat rising in his sweltering apartment, Jax decided to brave the courtyard once more and get outside. The crowd around the pool had lessened, and he didn't see Kaia on her usual lounger. Maybe she'd had enough of the heat and the sun, too.
Hopping into his car, he drove down the coastal highway with his air-conditioning blasting.
Driving had always been an escape. He'd grown up with nothing, trapped in a small rural town in Nebraska.
But when he turned sixteen, and his grandfather let him drive his old truck, he'd gotten his first taste of freedom.
Real freedom had come with grief a few years later, when he'd been left with nothing but that truck.
But it had taken him out of town and into a life that had had a lot of twists and turns, and they didn't seem to be over yet.
As his gas gauge went down, he returned to Oceanside, parking near one of his favorite places—the music store.
He'd met the owner a few weeks ago. Colin Dunsmuir was a fifty-year-old, heavily tatted, former British drummer.
Colin had recognized him almost immediately, but when he'd asked him not to say anything, Colin had quickly agreed.
He'd had his own run-ins with the press, and he didn't care much about Jax's reasons for wanting to use another name.
They'd bonded quickly, and when Colin had asked him if he knew much about restoring old guitars, that bond had only gotten stronger, because his grandfather had spent hours teaching him to do just that.
Colin sold instruments on one side of the store and old records on the other.
But in the back room, he restored used instruments so he could donate them to kids who wanted to learn to play but didn't have money to buy anything.
Colin had put out a call to his customers for donations, so he might as well check to see if he had any guitars to hand over today.
When he entered the store, there were a few people browsing, and Colin's nephew was at the register. He tipped his head toward the back room, so he went down the hallway and found Colin working on a drum kit.
"How's it going?" he asked. "Do you have another guitar for me?"
"Coming in on Monday," Colin said. "Guy went out of town and forgot to drop it off."
"No problem. I can come back."
"Everything good?" Colin asked, his British accent still coloring his voice.
"Fine," he said, smiling to himself. Maybe he needed to mix up his adjectives. "What are you working on?"
As Colin launched into an explanation, he found his attention wandering; not that he didn't appreciate drums, but he'd always been more fascinated by string instruments. When Colin wound down, he said, "Good luck with all that. I'll text you on Monday and see if you need my help."
At Colin's nod, he left the back room and returned to the store. He was about to leave when he saw an older man shuffling toward the back of the records section. It was Walter Cobb from last night. He couldn't help but move in his direction.
Walter stopped at the jazz section, riffling through the records, as he muttered something under his breath. And then he lifted his head and caught him staring. He squinted his eyes. "Do I know you?"
"We met last night," he replied. "Jax Ridley. You walked in front of my car. You're Walter Cobb, right?"
"Yes. And I think you were going too fast."
He didn't even try to defend himself. "You like jazz?" he asked, tipping his head toward the record in his hand. "Wayne Shorter is one of my favorites. The way he played the sax was out of this world."
"Do you know jazz?"
"I do. Who's your favorite? Coltrane? Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock?"
"Reina Chapman."
He was surprised by Walter's answer. "You mean Anita Chapman?"
"Anita was good, but her sister, Reina, was even better. Most people don't know that. Reina didn't get to perform the way her sister did." Walter's gaze grew distant. "She lived here a long time ago."
"Here in Oceanside?"
"Just down the road in Encinitas, but she used to sing in a club here. The first time I heard her voice, I thought it was an angel singing. I was completely captivated."
"When was that?" he asked.
"More than forty years ago."
"That's a long time."
"I was in the Marine Corps, stationed at Camp Pendleton. When we got leave, we used to come to Oceanside. The club where she sang was dark and smoky. Back then, everyone smoked and no one cared. I don't remember the name of it or where it was. But it had a red door."
His heart jumped. "The door you were looking for last night."
"I can't seem to find it. But it has to be here somewhere. One day I'll find it. I know I will. I have to. I made a promise…" Walter's voice drifted away, and he suddenly put a hand on the stack of records to steady himself.
"Are you alright?" he asked with concern.
Walter dug into his pocket and pulled out a baggie. Inside was a peanut butter sandwich. He took a couple of bites, and as he ate, he seemed to get steadier.
"Looks like you were hungry," he commented.
"Blood sugar likes to jump around. I gotta go," Walter said abruptly. "Catherine told our nosy neighbor to watch over me, and she's probably calling the police and telling them I'm gone, like I'm a six-year-old or something. Never had someone keeping tabs on me all the time. I don't like it."
"That would bother me, too. Can I give you a ride home? You could tell me more about Reina."
"I can take a cab. I have the phone number." He pulled out his phone, his hand still shaky.
"Let me help you," he said.
"The number is right in my phone," Walter said as he handed the phone to him. "You play, don't you? I can see the calluses on your fingers."
He punched in the number for the cab company and handed the phone back to him. "I don't play anymore."
Walter asked for a cab and then told the dispatcher where he was and that he'd be outside. The dispatcher seemed to know him and said a taxi would be there soon.
"Why did you stop playing?" Walter asked.
He shrugged. "It stopped being interesting."
"That doesn't seem true." Walter's gaze sharpened. "What's your story?"
"No story." He cleared his throat. "Can I help you outside?"
"I don't need help."
Despite his words, Walter still seemed unsteady, so he followed him out of the store, standing next to him on the curb as he waited for his ride.
"You don't have to stay with me," Walter told him. "I don't need a sitter."
"That's what you said last night. You also said you were looking for a red door. What was that about?"
"The door opened into a nightclub. I’m still trying to find it. I know it’s here somewhere."
"What was the name of the club?"
Walter thought for a minute. "It had starlight in the name, I think. I can't quite remember." He paused as a cab pulled up. "Here's my ride."
He opened the back door for Walter and made sure he had his seat belt on. Then he shut the door and stepped back.
Before the cab pulled away, Walter lowered the window. "Reina left me a message at the club, the one with the red door. I just have to find it."
He had no time to question that statement as the cab pulled away, and he stared after it for a long moment.
"What were you doing with Walter?" a female said from behind him.
He whirled around to see Kaia on the sidewalk behind him, with two other women from Ocean Shores standing in front of the nearby bridal shop. The blonde was Emmalyn, and the brunette was Lexie, the manager's niece. He'd said the occasional hello to both of them, but nothing more than that.
"Well?" Kaia demanded, drawing his attention back to her. "You just put Walter in a cab. Why were you together?"
"I ran into him in the music store."
"Was he feeling okay?"
"He got a little unsteady at one point, but he ate some peanut butter."
"Well, that's good. I'm glad he had something with him for a change. What were you two talking about?"
"Just stuff. I think your friends are waiting for you."
"We just finished trying on bridesmaids' dresses for Emmalyn's wedding. You might have met her at Ocean Shores."
"I've seen her around. I'll let you get back to them."
"Did Walter say something about the red door?" she asked. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about that."
He didn't want to admit that the red door had made him curious, too. "He said the red door was the entrance to a nightclub he used to go to. He liked one of the singers there."
"What was the name of the club?"
"He thought it had the word starlight in it, but he wasn't sure. I need to go. Enjoy your afternoon."
As he turned and left, he felt not only her eyes on his back, but also the interested gazes of the other women as well, and he had a feeling they had even more questions now.
Kaia stared after Jax for a long minute and then walked back to her friends. She knew the questions were coming because as soon as she'd seen Jax putting Walter into a cab, she'd shot away from them in the middle of a conversation.
"What was that about?" Lexie asked.
"Wasn't that the man who lives in Hunter's old apartment?" Emmalyn chimed in.
"Yes, Jax Ridley," she replied.
"And you know him now?" Emmalyn asked with curiosity in her gaze. "When did that happen?"
"Last night. We ran into each other when the older man he was with walked into traffic. When I saw them together just now, it surprised me. I wanted to know what was going on."
"And?" Lexie prodded.
"I'm not sure. Jax said they ran into each other in the record store."
"Which means…what?" Emmalyn asked in confusion.
"It doesn't mean anything, except it's weird.
Jax almost ran Walter down last night, and today he was helping him into a cab like they were friends.
" She knew she wasn't making any sense. "I've been worrying about Walter because I've had three calls to his house.
He's a diabetic, and he's fallen a few times.
And last night, when he was wandering around, he was looking for a place with a red door.
Jax just mentioned that he brought it up again today.
I think it led to a nightclub. Does that ring a bell for either of you? "
Emmalyn shook her head, followed by Lexie, who said, "I don't think I've seen any red doors leading anywhere around town. Is it important?"
"It is to him."
"Sounds like you're getting too involved," Lexie said.
"That's what everyone keeps telling me," she said dryly.
"Jax is very good-looking," Emmalyn commented. "Until today, I don't think I've really seen him in the sunlight or for more than twenty seconds. He's always slipping away through the shadows of the courtyard. What's he like?"
"I don't know. He's not very forthcoming."
"He seemed nice helping that man into the cab," Lexie put in.
"He did seem nice, which is strange, because that hasn't been my impression of him before now.
" She paused. "It doesn't matter. I'm probably making something out of nothing, but you know I like a good mystery, and at the moment, I have two: Walter and his red door, and our mystery man.
But I should probably stay away from both of them.
Let's get a smoothie. I would love something slushy and cold. "
"Me, too. Let’s do it," Lexie said.
As she followed them down the street, she took one last look over her shoulder, not sure why she felt the need to do that since Jax and Walter were both long gone.
The sign for the music store made her wonder how they'd both ended up there.
But she needed to stop thinking about them and focus on her own life, even if it wasn't nearly as interesting at the moment.