Jazzed

  Cole led them to the same table near the stage where they had sat the previous night. It was the owner’s private table, he explained—had been for years. “This is where Mitchell holds court. No telling what musicians have sat in these chairs, everyone from John Coltrane to Chris Botti.” He pulled out a chair for each woman before grabbing a seat for himself. “What do you think of The Avant-Garde?”

  The question was obviously addressed to Kate, so Annie ever so slightly nudged her friend’s arm with an elbow. Kate looked into Cole’s hazel eyes, leaned forward, and smiled. “There are a lot of ghosts here, I think. Not spirits, really, but sort of a musical echo from the past.”

  Annie watched Kate blossom and become animated in her own quiet manner, listening intently to Cole’s stories, yet sporadically asking questions or making comments. They made an attractive couple, his blond head bent to her dark one as they exchanged ideas. How many romances began in this room with music magic?

  “You came back—I’m so glad.” Mitchell clasped each woman’s hand before sitting in the empty chair between Alice and Cole. “I have a tray of drinks on the way.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Alice moved her chair slightly to give him more room. “Asta’s story has been elusive. We’re anxious to hear it!”

  Mitchell’s eyes twinkled, and his large smile revealed two rows of almost too-perfect teeth. “Next to music, storytelling is my specialty. May I see the photos again?”

  Annie handed him the stack. He quickly flipped through it until he found Asta’s photo and stared at it a minute or two as if he were searching his mind for memories. “Asta was an enigma, cold and aloof around most people she met, but once she stepped onstage, she connected with the audience like nobody I’ve ever seen—and I’ve seen plenty.”

  The bartender placed a tray of drinks on the table. Mitchell waited until the ladies and Cole had taken a sip before he swirled his own glass and took a swig of whiskey. “Many men fell for Asta, but none as hard as Leo Harmon. Her voice could weave quite a spell.”

  Annie glanced at Alice, her heart racing at the sound of the photographer’s name. “Did Leo Harmon meet Asta in the club?”

  Nodding, Mitchell looked back down at the photograph and brushed his right index finger over the smoke hovering around Asta’s head. “He was still dealing with the horror he experienced as a soldier during World War II when he walked in here the first time. Music and photography helped heal the wounds in his chest and his mind—and his heart, I suspect. He’d often show up to shoot photos in exchange for admission to the club. That’s how we ended up with one of the largest collections of Leo Harmon photos in the world.”

  Alice bent her head to get a closer look at Asta’s photo. “Did Asta and Leo get married?”

  Mitchell fell silent and seemed lost in the past. He snapped out of it when Cole tapped his arm. “Asta and Leo? No, Asta was engaged to a wealthy young man who didn’t appreciate jazz music or her singing in a nightclub. She never responded to Leo’s affections, but she did revel in the attention he gave her. Asta never gave him a chance, but she inspired his artistry. I never saw any of Leo’s photos that were more intense than those of Asta.”

  As Kate and Cole gazed at each other, Annie wondered how many musicians had fallen in love within these walls during the club’s long history. “What happened to Leo and Asta?” she asked, impatient to hear the rest of the story.

  Mitchell’s eyes looked tired and sad. “When the Korean War broke out, Leo took a job as a war correspondent and was sent to Asia. He never returned. Asta sang here until she finished college and then left to marry her fiancé. As far as I know, she never sang again, but she had one of the most hauntingly beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.”

  Tears lurked in the corners of Kate’s eyes. “That’s so sad. Leo lost his love and his life, and Asta gave up her passion for a man and his money.”

  Members of Cole’s band hovered near the stage and waved to get the trumpeter’s attention. He looked at Kate. “More than a few loves have been found here. Some last and others don’t. But all of them influence the music. Gotta go now. Will you stay and listen to our set?”

  She hesitated and waited for nods from Annie and Alice. “Yes, we’d love to hear you play again. Thank you.”

  Mitchell watched Cole step onstage. “He’s very talented, you know. We’ve been lucky; for seventy years, gifted musicians have found their way here.”

  “Legends attract talent. From what I understand, The Avant-Garde is a legend. What I don’t understand,” Annie said, gathering up her photos, “is how the negatives of Asta’s photos ended up in my grandparents’ portrait.”

  “That I can’t explain,” Mitchell said, pushing his chair out from the table. I need to tend to the club. It’s been a pleasure visiting with you. Thanks for taking me down memory lane. Feel free to sit here and listen to Cole’s group. They’re very good.”

  The band opened with an instrumental number before Cole welcomed the audience to the club and introduced the next song. Placing his trumpet on its stand, he picked up a microphone and held it in the direction of his new friends. “This song goes out to Kate, and to Asta, wherever she is, for bringing Kate to The Avant-Garde.”

  Kate smiled and lifted her hand acknowledging Cole’s gesture as he began to sing a love song. Her eyes didn’t leave his face until he replaced the microphone in its stand.

  Placing a hand on Kate’s shoulder, Annie whispered in her ear. “Can you breathe?”

  “Barely.” It was the first time Annie had ever seen Kate that breathless. The second time came during the band’s intermission.

  “So what do you think?” Cole asked as he returned to his seat at the table.

  Annie and Alice waited for Kate to answer. She blushed. “Nobody has ever dedicated a song to me before. It was beautiful. Thank you.”

  Cole beamed. “I wrote it myself. This was the first time it’s been performed in public.”

  Alice grabbed her purse from the back of the chair. “Annie, let’s go look at photos … or something.”

  “Excuse us,” Annie said, rising and draping her bag on one shoulder. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  After two paces she stopped, turned to Alice, and grinned. “That was smooth. Shall we look at portraits, or do you have some other mischief in mind?”

  They walked to the other side of the room and paused in front of a portrait of a young Frank Sinatra. Alice angled her body to gain a clear view of Kate and Cole and left Annie facing Frank. “You are welcome to wander around the club if you like, but I’m going to stand right here and spy on them. And remember: We don’t really know Cole Cutchins.”

  13

  Water fell two stories in a shimmery sheet into the reflecting pool, sending rogue droplets into the air to land on people watching below. Waiting for Alice and Kate at their prearranged meeting spot, Annie sat on the bench and looked up in awe of the wall of water sliding down gold granite.

  This was a different world.

  The hotel’s atrium was a paradox—the blend of light and tranquility from glass walls and the waterfall contrasted with the quick steps of people rushing from one place to another. Annie watched briefcase-carrying executives in business suits enter the upscale lounge and travelers browsing through attraction brochures. Groups of the convention attendees, arms laden with goodies from workshops, stopped at the hotel directory in search of the Grand Ballroom, where the fiber-arts fashion show was scheduled to begin in thirty minutes.

  There was freedom in sitting still, an unknown amid the bustle, and watching the press of humanity. In Stony Point, where all eyes noticed your every move, this type of observation was nearly nonexistent.

  Annie jumped when her cellphone began vibrating in the craft bag leaning against her thigh. She dug through workshop information sheets and yarn samples and snagged it before it stopped shaking. “Hello?”

  “Annie?” Her heart lurched when she heard Ian’s voice.<
br />
  “Ian! How are things in Stony Point?” Annie put her hand over her free ear to block out the lobby noise so she could hear him better.

  “Stony Point is quiet, especially compared to The Big Apple. I just left A Stitch in Time. Mary Beth said she talked to you yesterday. How’s the conference?”

  Annie waited for a large group of chattering women to pass before she answered. “Very informative. This morning I attended a workshop on needlecraft-related fundraisers and another on teaching methods for needlecraft classes. We have a lot to share with Mary Beth when we return home.”

  Ian cleared his throat. “Always thinking of the community. I like that. By the way, Mary Beth said you had been to the jazz club. Did you find out anything about the mystery singer?”

  Annie had just finished telling Ian the story of Asta and Leo when Alice and Kate joined her by the waterfall. “Alice and Kate just walked up, so I need to get going. Thanks for calling to check up on us.”

  Waving to her friends, Annie mouthed Ian’s name and pointed to the phone before ending the conversation. “I miss you too. See you soon! Bye.”

  Annie saw the mischievous look in Alice’s eyes and opted to speak first. “Ian said everything is fine in Stony Point. He had just visited A Stitch in Time and talked to Mary Beth. He called to get an update on the mystery. He told me to say hi to y’all.”

  Kate sat on the bench next to Annie. “He’s such a nice man. I never really gave much thought to elected officials, but he really does seem to care about the people of Stony Point, even when we aren’t there.” She pulled her cellphone from her purse. “I wonder if Vanessa called this morning.” She flipped open the phone and paused before punching in her voice mail password. “Oh, it looks like I have a message from Cole.” She listened to the message and grinned. “He asked for my cell number last night. He said he is looking forward to seeing me tonight and suggested we arrive in time to have dinner with him before the show. Isn’t that sweet?”

  Alice whipped out her own phone and accessed the Internet. Typing in “Cole Cutchins” and “trumpet,” she discovered a number of entries. “Let’s see if he’s as real as he seems,” she said. “Well, he is a professor at Columbia, and his band seems to be pretty popular in New York.” She scrolled through several entries. “His students give him high ratings and describe him as cool, laid-back as a teacher but intense as a musician. No mention of a wife or fiancée. Looks good so far!”

  Annie opened her mouth to mention the number of travel hours between New York City and Stony Point, but decided it was a bit premature. She opted to remind them of the fashion show instead. “Maybe we should head to the Grand Ballroom. We don’t want to miss the opening run of the fashion show.”

  They chatted with other needlecraft enthusiasts on the way to the tenth floor. The conversation stopped when they stepped off the elevator into a fashion wonderland. The perimeter of the ballroom was lined with ficus trees and topiaries aglow with twinkling lights. An elevated runway cut a swath through rows of chairs and branched into a T at the front of the room. Greeters handed out programs as they entered the door.

  “I am expecting Tyra Banks to appear at any moment,” Alice quipped, her eyes roving the room. “I suppose we’d best find a seat. The room is filling up.”

  A plump, freckle-faced woman waved her program and motioned Annie to three chairs next to her near the center aisle just off the runway. “Look, there’s Pam from Galveston, Texas! I met her in my crafty fundraiser class this morning. I think she’s saved us seats.”

  Annie led the way to her new acquaintance. “Hi, Pam! These are the friends I told you about, Alice and Kate from Stony Point, Maine.”

  Pam held out her hand. “Hi, y’all. I sure am glad you arrived when you did. It was getting harder to keep people from taking these seats.”

  Alice took Pam’s hand in her own. “Thanks for saving them. What a great view we’ll have!”

  Pam didn’t miss a beat. “Anything for friends and family of Betsy Holden, God bless her. Years ago, I read an article about her in a needlework magazine. I wrote her a letter explaining how her work inspired me to open my own needlecraft store. She surprised me by writing the nicest letter in return. I hope I don’t sound like some kind of groupie, but I have it framed in my shop.”

  Before Annie could respond, music started and the emcee stepped to the microphone and welcomed the crowd before introducing the needlework experts who had created fashions for the show.

  Annie tried to remain focused on the garments and accessories flashing before her, but her mind kept floating back to Asta and Leo. What was their connection to Grey Gables? Grandpa spent time in New York after his Navy days, but that was before he met Gram. She thought of the photos of Grandpa she had found in the book about New York. What were the initials on them? She couldn’t remember.

  Suddenly, all the models poured onto the runway and the music became louder. Annie was startled from her reverie. It was time for the grand finale.

  When the music ceased, Annie, Alice, and Kate thanked Pam again for saving their seats and told her they hoped to see her again before the end of the conference. During the elevator ride to the forty-sixth floor, Alice nudged Kate. “You’re awfully quiet. Did you enjoy the fashion show?”

  Kate answered after the elevator stopped to let three people off. “I must admit, I had a tough time concentrating. I couldn’t stop thinking about Cole and the song he sang for me last night … and the voice mail he left this morning. Is it possible to have feelings for someone you’ve just met?”

  The question hung in the air before Alice finally answered it. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I think it’s worth a trip back to the club—don’t you think so, Annie?”

  Annie wasn’t so sure she was the one to be giving relationship advice at the moment, and she wanted to change the subject. “I don’t know. But I was lost in my own thoughts during the show. I just can’t make the connection between Grey Gables and a jazz singer in New York City. It makes no sense.”

  They stepped off the elevator and walked to their room in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts. When they entered the room, Alice went to her suitcase and retrieved three granola bars, while Kate sat on the couch and looked out over Times Square. Noticing the message light blinking on the hotel phone, Annie went to check the voice mail.

  She punched the play button and listened to the sound of a man coughing before whispering, “This is Cole Cutchins. Tonight is not good for me after all. In fact, it’s not a good time for you to be at the club.”

  “How odd! Listen to this.” Annie pushed the replay button and turned on the speakerphone. The raspy voice filled the air. She played the recording twice before talking. “What do you think?”

  Kate looked at her cellphone. “That doesn’t sound like Cole. His voice is smooth as velvet. What time was that message left?”

  Annie replayed the message and listened for the time. “Eleven o’clock this morning. What time did Cole call your cellphone?”

  “One o’clock,” said Kate, after double-checking the time. “Two hours after the message was left in the room. Suppose there’s been a mistake? Should I call his cellphone?” She tugged nervously on a lock of hair resting on her shoulder. “What if he has changed his mind and doesn’t want to see me again after all?”

  Sitting down next to Kate, Annie pondered both messages in her mind. “He sounded pretty sincere in the message on your cellphone. And don’t forget the song he dedicated to you last night.”

  Joining them on the couch, Alice handed each a granola bar. “Annie is right. Let’s not jump to conclusions. I think we should stick to our plan and go to The Avant-Garde. I’ll be surprised if he isn’t thrilled to see you.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were dressed for the club and walking down Broadway to catch the subway.

  “It really takes some planning to get anywhere in this city, doesn’t it?” Kate said as they approached the stairs leading to the subway. “It’s a
whole different lifestyle. It’s sort of exciting now, but I wonder if it would get old after a while.”

  Always up for adventure, Alice led the way to the turnstile. “I’m enjoying every second of this experience. It’s not going to get old anytime soon!”

  The subway car was not packed, but there were plenty of people in it, offering Annie some prime people-watching time. A handsome man with neatly trimmed black hair and large eyes sat near Alice and struck up a conversation. Alice was even more animated than usual. Is she flirting with this man? Annie wondered. By the time the twenty-minute ride was over, he knew that the women were visiting from Maine and this was their first trip to the city.

  When the subway doors opened at their stop, Annie was surprised when the man rose to get off too. As they squeezed through the opening, he grabbed Annie’s arm and held her back as Kate stepped off the train. Putting his mouth to her ear, he growled, “Keep that woman away from Cutchins if you know what’s good for you!”

  He was gone in a flash, leaving a trembling Annie to collect her wits.

  Alice and Kate had stopped and waited for Annie to catch up with them before heading out of the subway station. “Annie? Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Alice said.

  Annie double-checked to make sure her purse was still closed and her valuables safe. “Yes, I’m fine. But your Prince Charming just warned me to keep Kate away from The Avant-Garde and Cole. He shoved me pretty hard before he took off. I was so stunned I didn’t see which way he went.”

  Blood drained from Kate’s face. “First the phone message and now a warning to stay away from Cole? What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Annie said, rubbing her arm where the assailant grabbed it. “I don’t think he tried to take anything, but I am glad the negatives and matchbook cover are locked in Ian’s office safe.”

  Kate was on the verge of tears. “Maybe we should catch the next train back to the hotel and just stay in tonight. We’ll be safe there. Some things are just not meant to be.”