wish that were true," she said heavily. She pushed open the nearby door and walked outside. "I'll take the tea."
He handed her a cup and they made their way to the car.
Once inside, Jax rolled down the windows. It was hot, but she was happy for the heat. It was taking away the chill of Julia's death.
"I didn't even know her, but I still feel horrible," she said.
"That's natural. You're a kind person."
She shook her head. "If that were true, I would have dropped this a long time ago. I hurt my father. I got Julia killed. All for a movie? All for a truth for an eighty-year-old man who may not understand what I tell him? No, everyone else was right. I am selfish, Jax. I am a horrible person." When he didn't say anything, she added, "You agree, right?"
"I'm not going to join you in this personal beatdown."
"Why not? I deserve another person to beat me down."
"Well, it won't be me. You couldn't predict what would happen, Maya."
"You're being too generous. I thought all along my grandmother was murdered, so why couldn't I predict it would happen again?"
"Because you don’t live in a world where people are killing each other. It was a movie in your head. It wasn't that real. It happened a long time ago."
"That's somewhat true, but it doesn't excuse what I've done."
"You didn't kill Julia. Someone else did, the same someone who killed your grandmother, probably. Let's focus on figuring that out. Save the blame game for later, when we know everything."
"Will we ever know everything?" she asked wearily.
"We might be closer than we think."
She couldn't believe his words. "Why would you say that?"
"Because if you weren't close to the truth, no one would have killed Julia."
She thought about that. "You're right. Julia knew who killed Natasha." She straightened in her seat. "She was the person who could lead me to Natasha's killer. But if she knew, why didn't she go to the cops a long time ago?"
"Fear. She was afraid she would end up the same way."
"She said she was sorry." Maya tried to remember Julia's exact words. "She said Natasha was right. What was Natasha right about? What was going on, Jax?"
"Considering the people your grandmother was spending time with at the Russia House, I suspect the danger was coming from the Russians. Back in the eighties, there were a lot of Russian spies in the US."
She stared at him in amazement. "You think my grandmother was a spy?"
"I don't know. We need to get her journals."
"I can get them tomorrow morning when I go to work. Although, she doesn't say she's a spy in any of them."
"She wouldn't say anything outright, but you did mention the nicknames she used. Maybe those were code."
"That's true. I hope the journals are still safe where I left them."
"It sounds like the studio lot is locked down. We'll worry about the journals tomorrow." He gave her a smile. "Are you feeling better?"
Surprisingly, she was. "The tea is doing the trick. Or maybe it's you. You're so calm, Jax. You're like a port in a storm. Whenever I think I'm drowning, I look at you, and I feel like I can make it to shore."
"I'm glad I give you confidence, but you're a strong woman, Maya. You'd make it to shore on your own."
She saw the respect in his gaze, and it touched her. She didn't know if it was completely based in reality, but she'd take it. "Well, you're here now, and I'm glad. I'm also thrilled that I didn't throw up in front of you," she said dryly. "I bet you're sorry you ever invited me to breakfast."
"Not even a little bit. Do you want me to take you home, so you can rest? You can talk to Blake tomorrow."
"No. I can't imagine trying to rest or take a nap right now. I'm too wired. Plus, it will be good to try out my act on Blake. Based on his reaction, I'll know better how to play it at the club later."
"That's a good plan."
"I don't know if it's good, but it's a plan. We'll see how it goes. I really hope we're not still one step behind Natasha and Julia's killer. I don't want anyone else to die."
As Jax drove them to Beverly Hills, Maya attempted to slow her pulse down to a normal level. She breathed in and out and tried not to think about Julia. She'd never seen anyone die before,