“Singing old favorites,” said Lamar.

The girl smiled. Those big eyes were brown and soft. “Singing’s in my blood. It’s my goal.”

“To get a record deal?”

“Well, sure, that would be great. But I just love singin’- sharing what I’ve got with other people. My goal is to one day be able to do that as my real job.” Her lips turned down. “Here I am talking about me and it’s so horrible about Jack Jeffries. When I found out, I was so shocked, I can’t tell you. He’s more from my mama’s time but she plays his records all the time and he had a beautiful voice. Just gorgeous. She always said it was a gift from God.” Small fists clenched. “How could anyone do that to him? When I found out this morning, I was horrified. And then I said ohmigod, I need to talk to them- meaning you- the police. I thought of 911 but they say if it’s not a real emergency, don’t use it ’cause it ties up the lines.”

“Why exactly,” said Baker, “did you think you needed to talk to us?”

Confusion clouded the brown eyes.

Lamar added, “Is there something specific you want to tell us?”

“No, but he was here,” said Gret. “Sat right in that chair and drank two pots of chamomile and ate yellow-raisin scones with oodles of butter and listened to me sing. I couldn’t believe it, Jack Jeffries sitting there listening to me! I was so nervous I thought I’d fall down. Usually when I sing I make eye contact- connect with the audience, you know? Last night, I just stared at the floor like a stupid little kid. When I realized it, I looked up and wouldn’t you know, he was looking back at me and paying attention. Afterward, he applauded. I nearly ran off to the bathroom, but finally I built up my courage and went back out and got him more tea and told him how much I admired his music and that singing was my goal. He told me to follow my dreams…that’s what he did when he was my age. For a long time everyone discouraged him but he stuck it out and stuck with it.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“To hear those words from a superstar like that. I can’t tell you what it meant. Then he shook my hand and wished me luck. Left a nice tip, too. I ran out to thank him, but he was already talking to that lady and I didn’t want to disturb his privacy.”

She reached for a bar napkin, and wiped her eyes.

Lamar said, “What lady, Gret?”

“Some older lady. They were talking a little ways up, but not too far from the T. Then he walked her to her car…which was parked even farther up.”

“How long did they talk?”

“Don’t know, sir. I didn’t want to stare- didn’t want to be rude- so I went back inside.”

“But you definitely saw Jeffries talking to this lady.”

“Yeah, she just walked up to him out of nowhere. Like she’d been waiting for him.”

“Did Jeffries appear startled?”

She thought. “No- no, he didn’t look surprised.”

“Like he knew her.”

“I guess.”

“Would you say it was a long conversation or a short one?”

“I really couldn’t say, sir.”

“Did either of them look upset?”

“No one was laughing but it was too far away to see.”

Baker said, “Why don’t you show us exactly where they were standing.”

Lamar watched from where Gret said she’d been standing and Baker accompanied the girl as she paced off five yards, stopped and said, “Right around here. I think.”

East of the café. Direct route to the kill-site.

Baker had her point out where the woman’s car had been parked. Another three, four feet east. He brought her back to the café and the three of them stood out on the sidewalk.

“So you can’t say how long were they talking,” said Lamar.

“I really wasn’t staring the whole time.” She blushed. “I mean it’s natural, I’m not going to run away. Big-time superstar just walks in- just walks in by himself and sits down and listens? We never get anyone important, never ever. Not like on Second or Fifth or over at the Songbird. Those places, you hear all kinds of stories about celebrities dropping in at the popular clubs. But we’re away from all that.”

“Yeah, it is kind of a different location,” said Lamar.

“Dr. McAfee bought the building cheap. He’s a big real estate investor. I think he’s planning to tear it down eventually and build something else. Meanwhile, we’re doing music and I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Big brown eyes. Lamar wondered what they’d look like, chilled by failure.

Baker said, “Talk to us about this lady, Gret. What did she look like?”

“That’s a tricky one.”

The detectives exchanged glances. That’s a tricky one is often code for “I’m lying through my teeth.” Baker said, “Do the best you can.”

“Well, she was older but not as old as Mr. Jeffries. Maybe forty or fifty. Shoulder-length dark hair…not so tall. Maybe…I dunno. Five four or five five.” She shrugged.

“What about clothing?”

“A dark pantsuit…maybe dark blue? But it could’ve been gray. Or black. That’s about all I could tell you. It was dark and like I said, I didn’t want to stare. Now ask me about the car.”

“What about the car?”

“Real nice Mercedes-Benz sports car and bright red like a fire truck.”

“You didn’t happen to catch the license plate?”

“No, sir, sorry.”

“Convertible?”

“No, a coupe. No canvas top.”

“Red.”

“Bright red, even at night you could see that. Looked like it had custom shiny wheels. Real shiny. You think she had something to do with it?”

“It’s too early to think anything, Gret. Anything else you can remember that might help us would sure be appreciated.”

“Hmm.” She took hold of her hair, bunched it back in a ponytail, let it drop. “That’s really about it.”

They asked for her full name, address and phone number.

She said “Greta Lynne Barline.” The brown eyes shot to the sidewalk. “I’m in between phones- looking for a better carrier, you know? I’m staying temporarily at the Happy Night Motel. Just a ways down on Gay Street, so I can walk.”

The detectives knew the place. One-star joint, not far from their office. It had once been a hotbed of naughtiness before the big vice crackdown. Now the place was trying to grab the tourist trade and an AAA rating. Mostly, it drew truckers and transients.

Greta added. “I had an apartment with a roommate but she left and the rent was too much. I was thinking the eastside, but it’s still pretty black. Maybe I’ll get a car and live near Opryland.” A big smile. “That way I can visit all the time, watch those tropical fish in that restaurant they have.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Baker said. “One last question, Greta, and then I think we’re done for now.”

“Sure…shoot.” Another wide smile. She was enjoying the attention.

“Mr. Jeffries was here for about a half hour, maybe an hour?”

“More like a half hour. He left after I stopped singing.”

“What was Mr. Jeffries’s state of mind when he was here?”

“You mean his mood?” She brightened. “He was happy, really enjoying the music.”