Point of Attraction (10 page)

“So far,” Mason started out, “We’ve
found nothing regarding Raggs. No one seems to have suffered a hit
that night either, or at least they haven’t reported
it.”

“A hit?”

“Robbery, break’n’ entry.”

“Oh.” Even though she was expecting
this, it hurt just the same. “I’m not surprised,” she
murmured.

“I’m sorry.” His finger twitched,
almost lifting and touching hers, but he stopped and looked to the
opening door.

Georgie turned. Tonie Clark was
walking in. Georgie raised her espresso to her lips as she watched
Tonie’s searching glance swing first to the far corner where a
young couple now sat enjoying their morning wake-up drink, then
moved over the room.

Georgie swallowed, enjoyed the warm
tasty liquid make its way down, and waved at the young
officer.

Tonie smiled recognition and headed in
their direction. “We have a call,” she told Mason. “Stolen vehicle.
Happened sometime last night. Man went to get in his car this
morning... and it was gone.”

“I’ll be right out.”

Tonie nodded formally then smiled down
at Georgie before leaving.

Mason leaned forward.
“George, your, ah,
Spook
friend came to see me last night.”

“Spook friend?” The moment the words
came out, Georgie realized who he meant. She shook her head and let
it drop into her hands, then peered at him through her fingers.
“Nick,” she said, and Mason nodded. She really didn’t want to ask,
but she needed to know. “What did he say?”

Georgie could not deny her heart raced
as Mason smiled at her, his eyes warm, their color deepening as
they moved over her face. At the rising flush to her face, she
wondered briefly if she was blushing, but decided Parker must have
raised the temperature of the place.

“For an only child, Mrs.
Gainsworth, you have very impressive and awesome siblings, a Mad
OB/GYN and now an
invisible
Spook
... who’s turning out to be not so
invisible after all.”

“I’m so sorry, but he does mean well.
I’m afraid to ask, but...”

“You’ll be glad to know
there is a birth certificate for him. His parents were Mary Jane
and William Bane Underwood, ordinary folk, both now deceased.
And
he’ll
be glad
to know he
does
exist and works at Cantell Electronics, held in high regard
as their best salesman and systems troubleshooter; none better,
they said. Impressive.”

All Georgie could do was
force a smile of apology. She could wring Nick’s neck, then decided
there was no “could,” about it. She
would
wring his neck. Emmee was
right. He was a lunatic! But, she sighed in acceptance, he was hers
and Cassie’s lunatic, and in truth, they would have him no other
way.

“He hung around until I came off my
shift.”

“What? But how did he know
where...”

“Don’t know. Never mind that.” His eyes
darkened as his scrutiny intensified. “But he asked if I had put a
rose on your windshield. What’s going on, George?”

“Someone tucked a rose under my
windshield wiper last night.” She shrugged. “I thought it was Nick,
but I guess not.”

“Is he not one to do that?”

A small laugh found its way out. “Not
really. I just thought it might be an apology for acting the
fool.”

The lights on his squad car began
flashing. Tonie’s signal for him to hurry, and Georgie began
gathering her things.

“It wasn’t me.”

“I really didn’t think it was,” she
said, pushing back her chair.

“Why?” He reached to help her, but she
was already on her feet.

“Why would you?”

“Don’t know, but I could
have.”

“And did you?” she asked,
both puzzled and feeling a little
something
at his
reaction.

“No. I just told you. But...” He
pointed. “I want you to know I could have.”

“Problem is, now I’m
wondering who
did
put it there, and why?”

“What about Mr. Sanders?”

She shook her head, not really sure at
first, then decided, “Nnnno.”

“Obviously whoever it was has good
taste.” He smiled and led her toward the door. “Listen, are you
going to be home tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to come by. It’ll be after
seven, if it’s okay.”

Georgie swallowed that tightness in her
throat and said, “Sure,” as they left.

Emmee and Brandy came up to
her as the squad car drove off with its lights flashing with a
quick blast of the siren as it entered traffic. For the first time,
Georgie could not bring herself to repeat what she often told her
kids when they saw police lights flashing along the roadside,
“
Oh, oh, Christmas
lights
.” The lights looked nothing like
that now.

“Damn, but that man looks good in that
uniform,” Emmee said with a sigh. “So now we’re having morning
coffee with him? Making progress here.”

But Georgie didn’t take the bait. All
she could think of was Mason going out on a call, something he did,
day in day out, and any one of those calls could be the one to go
bad. No, they’re nothing like Christmas lights. The lights went off
and no siren came on. The theft was last night. No need to hurry,
she thought.

“Hey, Boss Lady. You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she murmured and led
the way to the salon.

“You guys going to open up this shop or
not?” Brandy’s first customer asked, leaning on the
door.

“The day awaits,” Georgie
told the girls while motioning Edward out of the way so she could
officially open Dare To Care Salon. “Ed, we have to have our
coffee, or we make mean hairstylists. Trust me, you don’t want
that. Besides, it’s only a quarter of. We don’t
officially
open ‘til
nine.”

“But you’re always here at
eight-thirty,” he said. “Everyone knows that.”

Maybe she
was
too predictable,
Georgie thought, and followed them in after looking up the street
where the police car had already turned the corner and disappeared
behind a building.

Well, she certainly ventured an
unexpected step into unpredictability, and took another sip of
Parker’s special to settle the little flip in her tummy. Whatever
possessed her to say yes to Mason coming over?

Chapter nine

As the hands on the clock neared
five-thirty, Georgie had trouble concentrating on her work. It
would be six-thirty before she was done with Adrian’s color weave.
Then came the cut and blow dry. After seating Adrian in one of the
waiting chairs to let the color process, Georgie went to the supply
room to wash out the bowls. She glanced at the clock, saw only ten
minutes had passed, and pushed up the faucet handle. Water came out
full force, struck the two bowls and sent their contents
everywhere.

“Dammit!”

“What’s up?” Emmee asked, popping her
head through the doorway of the supply room as she walked behind
her client to the shampoo bowls.

Georgie turned slightly to show her.
There was bleach and color on her face, cobbler apron, and all over
the wall.

“Don’t touch me,” Emmee laughed,
backing away.

By the time Georgie finished cleaning
up, grateful the bleach and color had missed her eyes, the timer
for her weave pinged loudly. She refused to look at the clock. Did
she want the time to go fast, or not? She wanted to throw up,
that’s what she wanted. Why had she said yes to Mason? It was a bad
idea. Yet she could not deny the up beat of her heart and flush of
heat each time she thought of it.

She finally finished Adrian’s color,
cut and blow-dry, and stood behind the front desk while Adrian dug
through her wallet when the phone rang.

“Dare To Care Salon. This is Georgie.
May I help you? Hello? Hello?” With vacuum silence being her only
answer, she hung up.

“Don’t you hate that?” Adrian said,
holding out her Debit Card.

Georgie slid the card then handed it
back to Andrian.

After putting it back in her wallet,
Andrian smiled while looking in the mirror behind the desk and
pushed at her hair. “Love it,” she said, then pointed to the empty
space on the shelf. “Oh, Sweetie, I hope you find
Raggs.”

Georgie forced a return smile, and
Adrian went out the door, letting in the cold air and noise of
falling rain. What a change from yesterday and this morning. Cars
squished the moisture under their tires as they jockeyed their way
through the parking lot and streets.

The phone rang again and Georgie just
stared at it a moment before looking up at Emmee and Brandy. They
just shrugged. On the third ring, she picked up. “Dare To Care
Salon. This is Georgie. May I...”

“George, this is Mason.”

It took all Georgie had to keep from
looking around to see if any of those in the shop could somehow
hear, or tell it was Mason on the phone. Self-conscious, and the
need for privacy rode her hard. “Hi. Was that you that just
called?”

“No.”

“Okay. Must have been a drive-by hang
up,” she said, keeping her voice low while looking out the window
as though watching the traffic. “What’s up?”

“We have a situation going down. Don’t
know how long it will take. Another rain check on that
coffee?”

“Sure.” It was difficult for her to
register what she was feeling, relief or disappointment?

There was a pause, not a long one, but
a noticeable one.

“George?”

“Yes.”

“I really want to collect on that rain
check.”

There was so much she wanted to say,
some clever remark, something bland, and something she couldn’t
even bring herself to think about much less say. All that came out
was, “‘kay.” She swallowed and forced out the words. “You and Tonie
be careful.”

“She went home sick.”

Before the pause became too obvious and
harder to break, Georgie said, “Then you be careful.”

While she could still hear police
station activity in the background, Mason said nothing, yet she
didn’t want to hang up. Something was left unsaid though she was
unsure what, and she asked, “You there?”

“Yes,” he said, paused again, then,
“It’s... just that it’s been a while since anyone has said that to
me.”

“Let’s hit it, Montgomery,” a man’s
voice said in the background.

“got’ta go, George. Bye.”

The click pierced Georgie’s ear and she
stared down at the buzzing receiver in her hand. With great care
she placed it back on its base. When she looked up, she saw Emmee
was looking at her over her client’s head through the mirror of her
station. Without a word Emmee motioned her client to the shampoo
bar. Brandy too had been watching through the corner of her eye,
but when Georgie caught her, she immediately turned back to the
haircut she was doing.

The door swung open with a ping. “Hey,
Georgie Girl, can I talk you into a hair cut before you
leave?”

Nick stood there, motorcycle helmet in
the crook of the elbow, his smile as boyish as the day Georgie
first saw him sitting on the top step of his parent’s porch
watching the movers unload her family’s furniture. But this was
now, and she took a deep breath to meet that smile with as cold a
stare as she could muster. With great calculation, she came around
her desk.

He quickly held up a hand to ward her
off. “If you don’t want to cut my hair, just say so. I can go to
one of those assembly line cheap joints where I don’t even need an
appointment.”

“I should let you, you know
that?” she scolded. “No. I should
drive
you to one and sit there while
they cut-up your thinning blond locks.” She started for the back of
the shop.

“Thinning?” he asked, running his
fingers through his hair and giving a quick glance into the mirror
before trailing behind her. “Oh, that is such a cheap shot, and so
sooo beneath you.”

“Hi, Nick,” Brandy said, as they went
past her to Georgie’s station.

“Hey, Brandy.”

“Well, will you look at what the
acid-rain washed in,” Emmee said, coming back from the shampoo bar
with her client.

“Love you too, Emmee-Loo,” he answered,
and they touched open hand finger tips as they passed each
other.

That was their banter.
Emmee hated him calling her
Emmee-Loo
, and she bit back with her
dry humor.

Georgie waited while Nick set down his
helmet and hung up his leather jacket. When he hooked it on the
coat tree, the sturdy wooden hanger swung with the weight of
it.