Point of Attraction (3 page)

“Maybe George has a jealous husband,”
Mason said. “Wouldn’t do to come home with a strange
man.”

“You’re the one with the wedding ring,”
Georgie countered, pointing at his finger. How did this become
about her?

“Wedding ring?” he asked, staring down
at his hand. His eyebrows twitched as though in surprise, as if
some alien thing had attached itself to his finger.

She almost laughed at the expression on
his face, and said, “Yeah, wedding ring.”

“This is just too funny to miss,”
Cassie said, “But, kiddies, I have a baby on the way. Did neither
of you realize you’re both wearing wedding rings? Now I know
Georgie’s widowed, but I have to admit it never occurred to me to
look at your finger or I would never have suggested you take her
home. So, quickly, now. Explain. I have to get going
here.”

“My wife died four years ago,” he said,
turning over his hand, still staring at the one finger as it bent
slightly then straightened. “I guess I just never thought about
taking it off.”

“Okay,” Cassie said with an exaggerated
sigh and snatched up her keys. “Mason, you’re taking her to her
shop to get her car. Make sure she gets home. One improper move
from you and you will die. Remember... I’m a doctor. I can make it
happen so no one suspects a thing.”

Georgie flinched as Cassie’s fingertip
poked the top of her head and gave her hair a quick tug.

“Call me when you get home.”

Georgie rubbed the spot. “You make sure
you keep your cell phone on in the delivery room. Your patient will
love it, I’m sure.”

But Cassie was already on her way out
the door, one hand up waving her good-bye, the other holding the
cell phone to her ear.

Georgie gave Mason an apologetic shrug.
“Some people are blessed with big brothers. I have
Cassie.”

“She makes two brothers,” he
smiled.

After a quiet moment, Mason clicked his
tongue and winked. “Well... I guess it’s just you and me, kid. What
do you want to do?”

“That is such a bad
Humphrey Bogart,” she told him, and gathered up her chapters. “But
since I now have an armed escort, I might as well finish class.
You
are
armed,
aren’t you?”

He put his cap back on and eyed her
through the corner of his eyes. “Let’s just say you might want to
take care how you critique my work tonight.”

Chapter three

After giving Mason the basic directions
to her shop, Georgie ventured into breaking the awkward pause.
“Being on the force... there must be a lot of stories in here,” she
said, pointing to her head then at his. “You know... Joseph
Wambaugh. How long have you been on the force?”

What else can you talk about on a
twelve mile car ride with someone you hardly know? Other than
Cassie, this was an entirely new class. In three Wednesdays,
Georgie had come to know the main character in Mason’s book, but
not the author himself, then found herself wondering what she was
doing taking a ride from a stranger. He was a fellow writer, but a
stranger nonetheless. A cop, true, but he wouldn’t be the first cop
with a dark side. Do bad guys look this good in light blue
turtlenecks and black leather jackets?

“I’ve got fifteen years behind me
including a six year stint in the army. I was an MP four of those
years. So the choice of what to do when I got out was clear. You
know... military police, civil police.”

As he spoke, Georgie noticed him shift
in his seat, getting more comfortable behind the steering wheel.
Sam used to do that, she thought, and like Sam, Mason kept both
hands on the wheel. She wondered if it was because she was in the
car, then decided Mason’s mode was more from his training. Always
be in control.

“That’s a lot of years for notes on a
rich assortment of people, character habits, incidents. You have
kept notes, right?”

He nodded with a hint of a smile. “And
you?” he asked. “Have you always been into writing?”

Writing
, she thought. He didn’t ask how long she’d been a
hairdresser. That was always the first question. Then would come
the, “Why hair dressing,” as if she should somehow defend her
career, never mind that it offered
her
an endless assortment of
characters for writing.

Well, this is interesting, she thought,
and almost laughed at how such a little thing... pleased
her.

“What?” he asked.

“What what?” she countered, feeling as
though she’d been caught with a dirty comb in her hand or
plagiarizing a piece of literature.

“You looked as though you were about to
laugh or something.” He gave her a quick glance through the corner
of his eye, then focused straight ahead. “Did I say something
funny?”

“No,” she said, waving a hand in denial
then settled back in her seat. “It was just a thought that was so
out of context it would mean nothing to anyone else but me. But to
answer your question... yes, I’ve always scribbled. I even used to
go up on the roof of our house to write, much to the annoyance of
my dad, but he knew... if I disappeared? Look on the roof
first.”

“And you’ve never been
published?” He shook his head, making that little
“
tisk
” with his
tongue. “Doesn’t hold much hope for me. You’re good, and yet not
published in all this time?”

To this, Georgie did laugh. “You think
I’ve always been at this level? Oh, I take that back. My letters to
the editor have always been published. Got my butt into a lot of
trouble with those letters over public issues.” Then waved a
pointing finger. “Oh, turn left at the next light.”

“Published is published,” he said,
steering the Toyota into the left turn lane.

“It’s a lottery. Right
time, right place, right reader,
and
right frame of mind. Lot of
rights to happen. Pull into that Western Shopping Center there,”
she pointed. “Actually, I stopped writing while the kids were
growing. Once they were grown, Sam, my... husband, and the kids
stated flat out, they would no longer be used as excuses for me not
writing. One day, I came home, and there was a computer all set up
in a room with shelves filled with my old reference books. They
worked all day getting it all set up.” She pointed again. “That’s
my shop there.”

“Dare To Care Salon,” Mason
said.

The dash lights reflected in his eyes
as he looked over at her, and Georgie wondered if the flush of heat
showed in her cheeks.

“Do you cut guys’ hair?”

“Eighty percent of our clientele is
men.”

“Oh, I can believe that.”

“My car is over there, the red Subaru,”
she said, indicating the area furthest away from the stores facing
the street, and waited until he pulled up next to her car, leaving
an empty parking space between. “I have two stylists that are cuter
than hell and damn good at their job. They do draw in the young
guys.”

He put an elbow on the steering wheel
and rested his chin in his hand to look over at her. “And the more
mature men?”

Georgie ran her fingers through her
short flippy hair, shook her head with an elaborate toss, then
deliberately batted her lashes at him. “Why, they come to me, Badge
747, they come to me.”

He laughed, and she found it a nice
sound, pleasing, with a good smile, not showy and wide, just...
honest.

“
You do play the game
well,” he said.

“Yes, I do. I have over
twenty years behind that chair bantering with men
and
women.” She opened
the door, shivered in the cold breeze, and took out her hat. With
one tug, she put it on, pulling it over her ears, then gathered her
writing. “Thank you for bringing me to my car. You really don’t
need to follow me home.”

“And have the Mad OB/GYN after me? Not
on your life. I’m making sure you get home.”

“Really, it’s not...”

“Watch it!” Mason called out, just as
another car pulled into the empty spot.

Georgie’s heart took a leap before she
recognized the dark green Durango as the window whizzed down.
“Jeffrey?”

“Is everything okay?” he asked her, but
his focus was on Mason.

“Sure. Why not?” she told him, slightly
shifting her stance so he could get a good look at
Mason.

“I thought you said you were going to
your class, but I guess... I mean, I just thought...”

“I’m fine,” she said, and made a show
of the class work she held in her arms, “and yes, I did go to
class, but Cassie, being the ever-on-call OB/GYN, had to go deliver
a baby. Mason, here, was kind enough to bring me to my
car.”

Mason tipped his finger to the bill of
his cap.

Jeffrey pursed his lips, his eyes and
mouth twitching before smiling, but Georgie thought it looked
forced, stiff, and hardly shy.

“
Are you on your way home
now?” Jeffrey asked. “Would you like...”

“Yes, we are. Mason and I are going to
discuss our chapters over coffee. So I’m fine. It was kind of you
to think of me, though. By the way...”

“Good night then.”

Before Georgie could say anything more,
the window went up and the vehicle pulled out of the slot. She
watched as he drove out onto the street and heard the squeal of his
tires.

“
Wow,” she murmured, very
taken back at Jeffrey’s actions. And what was that with the
squealing of the tires? “I was going to ask him if he noticed
anything when he was at the shop, but...”

“How do you know he was
there?”

“What? Oh. He was making an appointment
as I went out the door to go to class.”

“Is he the type who might take
Raggs?”

“Jeffrey?” Georgie looked at Mason. She
felt the tug of her brow furrowing in disbelief while her breath
misted in the cool moist night.

“As a joke, maybe?”

“Again, Jeffrey?” She smiled as she
shook her head. “No.” She laughed. “No, no, no.”

“But you did look surprised at the
squealing tires.”

“That was... strange, to say the
least.” She pondered over the moment while reaching into her pocket
for her keys, and was unable to comprehend Jeffrey’s
actions.

“And can I ask... not that I mind now,
but can I ask what that was about? You telling him we were going to
have coffee and go over the writing?”

Her jaw muscles ached from
clenching her teeth, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Mason
she was blatantly using him to make Jeffrey see there was nothing
there for him to cling to as in “
them
” as a couple. But that felt
so... so self-absorbed, so utterly conceited. A deep sigh escaped
her. Her uneventful day had somehow become this... this evening
filled with unanswerable problems and complications. And her poor
Raggs. Georgie would rather the thief had just opened the shop till
and taken the money. But to take Raggs!

“Is he a boyfriend wannabe?”

Georgie shrugged and looked in the
direction Jeffrey had driven off. She’d hear about this tomorrow...
or the day after, whenever his haircut appointment had been
scheduled.

“Do you mind if I do see you
home?”

“What?” she asked, being jerked back to
the moment.

“Does your mind wander a lot like
this?” he asked.

“No,” she half snapped at him, then
waved a hand to erase to her mood. “I’ve just never had so much on
my mind like I have this evening. But honestly, you don’t have to
see me home.”

“Humor me on this, George. I won’t hold
you to your little lie to... what did you say his name
was?”

“Jeffrey Sanders.”

Mason nodded that he heard,
but made no comment.
Cassie, what have you
gotten me into
, Georgie thought with a
deep breath, but as she looked into Mason’s eyes, the concerned
face, there was a tug to a place she thought buried with
Sam.

“Okay,” she heard herself say, “Follow
me home, but keep up. I don’t want to keep looking in the rear view
mirror for you.”

“Oh, I think I can keep up,” he
smiled.

~~0~~

This is not wise, Georgie
told herself, turning the key in the Subaru ignition. First you
take a ride with a man who’s basically a stranger. Now you’re
guiding him to your doorstep. Yeah, so he’s tall, dark and
handsome. Great eyes. Ax murders don’t have
AX MURDERER
written on their
foreheads.

After several blocks, she steered her
car up the winding road into the foothills. It was a few minutes
before the beams of her headlights hit her mailbox and wide mouth
of her driveway. As always, she by-passed her mail box. Morning and
daylight was soon enough to get her junk mail. Her important
deliveries were dropped off at the shop. As soon as she was well
into the driveway, the motion detectors turned on the small lights
along the gentle sloping doublewide gravel path where it made a
small circle in front of her house.