Rainey swallowed, her heart in her throat. “Can we make adetour?”
Jacques eyes shot to hers. “Memphis?” he asked, though it was clear in his gaze he didn’t needto.
“Yeah.” Her voice shook, but she gave anod.
Jacques flipped on his right blinker, giving Rainey three hours to figure out what she was going to say to herdaddy.
* * *
They exitedI-40 onto Sam Cooper Boulevard just after one-thirty. It was a Tuesday afternoon. And, as Larry had said, her father was in the middle of recording an album. Which could only mean onething.
Rainey could find him at Young AvenueSound.
He’d cut his last two albums at the studio located in the heart of the Cooper-Young neighborhood. Rainey had never been there, of course, but she knew her father liked the midtown location for its soulful feel. And he’d become a regular at the Young Avenue Deli one block away and Tart Cafe, his favorite pastry shop, around thecorner.
These were the kinds of things he talked about. Memphis. The vibe. The local color. His favorite haunts. Nothing more substantial. Nothingserious.
So, she knew exactly where he’dbe.
They found the studio easily enough but had to circle the block to find a spot for the Impala, and before they even parked the car, Archie’s distressed whine seemed to give voice to the vibes Rainey must have beensending.
“I’ll walk him,” Jacques offered, setting the car in park and killing theengine.
“Let’s walk him together. Maybe it’ll help settle mynerves.”
Jacques reached over and grabbed her hand. “I’m here. I’ll be right besideyou.”
Rainey let her breath go. It still felt like she had a bag of sand in her stomach, but the reassurance of his presencehelped.
“I know my dad. This is probably pointless.” She was talking to herself almost as much as she was tohim.
Jacques gave her an assessing frown. “Why are we here,Rainey?”
She could tell by the look on his face that he knew the answer. Jacques was making her say the words aloud to cement herpurpose.
“We’re here for answers.” The words were true, but she spoke them almost like a question, sounding unsure and afraid. When would she ever be more than a spinelessweakling?
He nodded. “Anythingelse?”
Rainey heaved a sigh. “I don’t… I don’tknow.”
Jacques’s assessing gaze didn’t falter, but he gave her a slow nod. “You’re entitled to answers,” he said, his deep voice resonating with conviction. It was almost enough to convince her. “You’re entitled to more thananswers.”
Rainey felt her throat tighten and her nose sting. The man by her side had absolute faith in her. Maybe she could at least pretend to have faith in herself. She nodded back. “More thananswers.”
With that, they stepped out into the Memphis afternoon. The sky was cloudless, the day considerably warmer than the one before. They’d had to park on New York Street, and as they made their way up the residential side, Archie happily marked every lamppost andhedgerow.
Jacques held her hand, but they walked in silence, Rainey lost in her thoughts. Her heart thumped almost painfully. She was afraid, but she wasn’t a hundred-percent sure why. It was as though she knew danger loomed, but she couldn’t discern which corner hidit.
They reached the back of the studio, their eyes scanning its imposing white-on-white brick facade. No side entrance welcomed them, only two signs that readYoung Avenue Sound — Private Parking — TowingEnforced.
As they rounded the corner on Young Avenue, Rainey started to wonder if it would be difficult to even get inside. If her father and his band were mid-recording, would they even gainadmittance?
But when they reached the front entrance, Rainey simply pushed the door open and found herself in a sleek vestibule. Soft lighting, mounted art, and stylish but welcoming seats and settees flushed out thespace.
And the worldhushed.
Until light, padded footsteps announced someone’s arrival, and Jacques and Rainey turned to see a young woman clad in a sleeveless striped sweater and skintight Capris nearly tiptoe into theroom.
