Point of Attraction

by Margaret Van Der Wolf

  “Daisy, where did you go?” As she spoke, Georgie scooped up droppings from the day and night before.

  Daisy came around the corner of the house barking excitedly, then sniffed at the ground as she followed her nose to the left rear corner of the fenced yard. She barked into the trees, then sniffed her way back to the side of the house.

  “Okay, girl, get it done and let’s close out this chapter. I have a job to get to.”

  Finally, Georgie tossed the Daisy-poop-filled plastic bag into the trashcan. “What’s this?” It was the tip of an impression in the soft earth around the container. Tugging at the collar of her robe, she looked to the still locked side gate, up into the trees and brush, then back down at the indentation. She bent for a closer look. Was that a shoe print? Looked like one, she thought, then straightened to put the tip of her slipper down. The dirt was soft, and the print almost a fit. Of course. She must have stepped there when she put back the trashcan yesterday morning after the trash was picked up the day before. Her other footprint was lost in the grass.

  “Duh, Georgie,” she murmured to herself.

  The phone rang in the house and she rushed back in, Daisy beating her to the door.

  “Hey, Mom. Good morning.”

  “Steven. You’re up early.”

  “Yeah. Early class in autopsy.”

  “Okay.” She winced with a shudder. “That’s more than I wanted to hear this morning.”

  “Is this the same mother who wanted to witness my toenail extraction, then pouted when the doctor nixed the idea?”

  “No. She moved away, and left no forwarding address, smart woman.”

  “One day, I will be the winner in these morning calls,” he said, then laughed.

  “I have my dreams too, young grasshopper. What’s up?” His laughter both stabbed and warmed her. It was a gentle echo of his dad’s ever-present humor.

  “Just wanted to know if you were up to cutting my hair this weekend.”

  Georgie held her answer and looked down at Daisy.

  “Mom?”

  “Have I ever said no?”

  “No. But, Mom, you could have a date or something...”

  “What time were you thinking of coming out?” She didn’t want to let Steven get into his it’s time to get out more, mom, speech.

  “I thought I could be your last appointment on Saturday, and we could go out to dinner. Ask Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Darrow if they want to come too.”

  “Would you like it if Paula and Ryan called you Doctor Green?” she asked, referring to the character on the ER TV series.

  “They probably do call me that, but Green has no hair, where as I do, and it needs cutting.”

  “I’ll call Paula and Ryan. Let’s make it a stay-at-home dinner.”

  “Even better,” he said.

  She half sighed and yawned. Remembering him always being the last one to rise and fighting it all the way, she wondered where he suddenly got all this early morning vivacity, but thought it best not to ask. “I have to get in the shower and get to work.”

  “Mom?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject. You should get out more, I know a couple of doctors that think you’re a hottie...”

  “Have a good day poking around inside some poor soul,” she said, hung up, then looked down at Daisy with a smile. “You got’ta love him. Wonder what’s up with him? He sounded very energetic for so early in the morning.”

  She was blessed with two wonderful kids, but while Steven felt it was time for her to have someone in her life, he openly said he had neither the time nor room for a girl in his busy schedule. Now, Paula was a different book all together. Paula talked a good game, but Georgie wasn’t sure how Daddy’s little girl would feel if a man actually did enter her mother’s life. Paula’s lawyer face gave no clues. Ryan Sheldon was Paula’s Sam, and Georgie couldn’t ask for more in a son-in-law.

  When both Daisy and Max followed her down the hall, Georgie played her morning game with them and rushed to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and left them on the other side. “I’m taking a shower alone guys,” she called through the door.

  It was only seconds before Daisy’s whimpering started and Max began poking his paw beneath the door, Georgie laughed and called out, “Go lie down somewhere.”

  The pitiful noise stopped and the paw disappeared.

  ~~0~~

  After parking her car in the Western Shopping Center, Georgie waived her morning espresso from the Center’s Cup Java Espresso House and went directly to the shop. With a heavy heart, she turned the key at her Dare To Care Salon. The moment she entered, her eyes darted to where Raggs always sat waiting to greet her. The glass shelves filled with hair products looked empty without her Raggs sitting there. When did Raggs leave the house and come to be the salon mascot, she thought, and reached to touch a hand on the empty place, but stopped. Best not, she thought. What if the police decided to dust for fingerprints? Well, that’s foolish. Even if the police thought the theft worthy of dusting for prints, Emmee and Brandy must have touched the spot.

  She pulled out the reception desk barstool and looked underneath, between the desk and wall, then made her way to the back of the shop. When she reached the circuit breaker box, she flipped on the lights, upped the thermostat for the day, and continued looking around as she slowly made her way back to the front. The bright morning sun glaring off the polished linoleum floor made her squint.

  The flashing digital light on the answering machine indicated five new messages. Georgie listened, taking down the names and numbers for return calls until the fourth message came on. There was no voice.

  “Drive-by hang up. I should get a new machine with an ID indicator,” Georgie murmured, knowing she wouldn’t do it until this one went belly-up, and listened to the last message. If it wasn’t for Steven and Paula, she would still have her old answering machine at home. “It’s a safety factor, mom,” they said.

  “George, this is Mason. Just wanted to remind you to call in that theft. If you don’t, I’ll haunt you till you do. I can be a nag. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  A smile tugged at her lips while a rush of blood sent heat across her cheeks. That’s what she needed... hot flashes to start. Did menopause start at forty-two? The thought of growing old had never bothered her, but this time, the thought stung, yet she forced herself to admit, okay touching forty-three.

  “Oooh, who was that?”

  Georgie jumped, bolting back. “Emmee! Dammit! You scared me.” She had been so wrapped up in Raggs, she had completely forgotten to lock the door behind her when she came in. That was her normal procedure; come in, lock the door until one of the girl’s came in or her first customer arrived.

  “Oh, gee. I’m sorry. I thought you saw me and unlocked the door.” Emmee looked up at the door. “Oh, no. Our door chime. It’s gone.”

  My attention must have really been tunneled, Georgie thought. She hadn’t even noticed the chime was missing.

  “Guess what I found in the parking lot?” Brandy’s impish voice asked. She was standing there, door open, rolling a golden object between her fingers, then held it up. It was the shop’s little door chime.

  “How the heck did it get out there?” Emmee asked.

  How indeed Georgie wondered, holding out her hand. Brandy dropped the small chime into her palm. Funny how something so small could feel so heavy, she thought, curled her fingers around it, then looked up. The little thing had hung on the doorframe since the Western Shopping Center was built and Dare To Care Salon moved into the unit. Not in all that time had it ever dropped off, let alone rolled out into the parking lot.

  “That’s why we never heard a thing when they came in and took Raggs,” Emmee said.

  Georgie nodded. The reason she installed the little chime was they couldn’t see the door from the back bar shampoo bowls. Plumbing-wise, the bowls were in the best location, but other than their supply room, the
shampoo bowl area was the blind spot in the L shaped beauty salon.

  Georgie opened the door and placed herself between the metal frame and the glass. The top of the door was about three inches from tipping the chime holder that would normally send out the “customer-entering” alert.

  “Whoever it was could have taken off the chime, slipped in, grabbed Raggs, and out the door they went,” Georgie theorized, more to herself than the two girls.

  “That would mean.” Emmee swallowed hard, her brown eyes wide and darker in shade. “Whoever it was, must have been watching, waiting, until both Brandy and I were in the back.”

  “Had to have been someone tall,” Georgie said, standing on her toes to reach up. She came nowhere near being able to reach the chime holder.

  “Will you listen to yourselves,” Brandy said, hands waving at the absurdity of it. “Why would anyone go through so much trouble just to take a Raggedy Ann Doll? Why? I think the bell fell off and it landed outside. It got kicked around. That’s all.” Brandy slipped into her cobbler apron uniform top and flipped out her long luminous wine colored hair from under the apron so it fell loosely about her shoulders and down her back. “Someone came in afterwards,” she reasoned while snapping the side tabs, “saw Raggs sitting there, and took her. That’s all. She’s probably in the arms of a little girl right now.”

  “Brandy, will you please shut up,” Emmee snapped, putting her long, neatly manicured, fingertips at her temples while closing her eyes in a plea. “Just zip it.”

  “Stop, stop,” Georgie said. “The both of you. Stop.”

  “Oh, Georgie, I’m sorry,” Brandy said, reaching for her, but Georgie waved at her that it was fine and she understood. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I know how much you love the little thing.”

  “It’s fine.” Georgie knew that to most Raggs was just a rag doll.

  “God, Brandy, can you just stuff a towel in it!” Emmee hissed under her breath while handing Georgie an apron top then shook out her own to put it on. “But I do think that Mason fellow on the answering machine has a point. You should call the police on this.”

  “It can’t hurt,” Brandy added, then shot Emmee a puzzled raised eyebrow. “What fellow?”

  Emmee shook her head and Georgie sighed deeply. Perhaps they were right, she thought and said, “One Amber Alert coming up for a Raggedy Ann doll.” She shivered in the still cool shop and flipped on the neon OPEN sign. It took another deep breath before she could pick up the phone.

  After being switched from this department to that department, being put on hold, then transferred from this officer to another officer, Georgie finally said, “Actually, the doll was a collector’s item. Yes, a classic, personally signed by the maker, and worth more than a few thousand dollars.” There was a pause. “You will? Thank you.” And with a smile to the girls, she hung up. “They’re sending out an officer to get all the details.”

  “A collector’s item?” Brandy asked. “Your Raggs was a collector’s item?”

  Georgie raised her chin and narrowed her focus. “I have a few Raggedy Ann Dolls. So that would make me a collector, right?” It wasn’t a question, but a dare for Brandy to deny the remark.

  “I would say so,” Emmee agreed, pulling at her spiky blonde hair while spritzing it as she looked in the mirror.

  “Personally signed by the maker?” Brandy countered.

  Georgie pointed at Brandy. “My mother made Raggs for me and embroidered her name on it in case I lost her at the hospital. They’d know who she belonged to.”

  “There you go,” Emmee said with her traditional flip of her hands.

  “Okay, okay,” Brandy relented, then asked, “But what about it being worth thousands? Huh?”

  Georgie arched an eyebrow and stared hard at the younger of her two stylists as she handed Brandy the slip of paper with the names and phone numbers of the persons wanting an appointment with her. “Are you saying you don’t think Raggs is worth thousands to me?”

  The young stylist’s blue eyes dilated to the size of silver dollars, and faded almost to that shade, as she looked to Emmee then back. She took a deep breath and smiled wide with beautiful teeth.

  “Millions, Boss Lady, millions.” She back-stepped her way to her styling station. “Yes, ma’am, worth millions.”

  Emmee grinned, but held back a snicker as she shook her head, fear gone from her eyes, and took her messages from Georgie. She pushed the ON button to the shop radio. “Oh, oh. Here comes Jeffrey. I forgot to tell you. He’s your first appointment.”

  “Oh, my God,” Georgie said, “you’re kidding. I’m surprised he came. I thought he’d be mad.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story,” Georgie said, and let her lips pull back into a big smile and turned at the opening door. “Good morning, Jeffrey.”

  “Hi,” Jeffrey murmured, eyes casting to the ceiling, the girls, then settling on the floor; everywhere but directly at Georgie.

  Georgie leaned down just a little, seeking her normal face to face interaction with a client. “Come on back.”

  “I was afraid Emmee made the appointment too early for you,” he finally said, sitting in her hydraulic chair at the back end of the shop. “You know, so early after your class last night.”

  Georgie wrapped a neck strip around Jeffrey’s neck and unfolded her haircutting cape with a quick flap before draping it around him. “Is that going to be too tight?”

  “Just a little,” he said, putting his finger at the neck giving it a tug.

  “Sorry.” She unsnapped and redid the snaps on the cape. Jeffrey not being very tall, she gave the hydraulic two pumps. “I didn’t want to get hair down your neck.”

  Running her fingers through his fine sand colored hair, she wondered what he would do if she accidentally gave him a high and tight hair cut? Military short. Wicked, wicked thoughts are not good, Georgie, she scolded herself, and water-spritzed his hair before picking up her scissors and comb. For the last twenty years, styles coming and going, Jeffrey always took a two and half finger’s width length cut on the sides and back, and longer on top. She could do it blind folded.

  “Was your class good last night?” Jeffrey asked.

  And the scissors took their bite out of Georgie. She quickly grabbed a neck strip and put it tightly around her finger. “Band aid needed here,” she called out, holding her hand up to minimize the bleeding. “The finger’s still attached, but I do need that band aid.”

  Jeffrey turned pale and Georgie remembered his fear of blood. “I’m joking, Jeffrey. See? It’s already stopped bleeding.” The thin line of blood began to show and knowing the cut was deep enough to give a good bleed, Georgie quickly spun away and went into the supply room. Emmee was quick. They washed out the cut and Georgie braced herself before soaking the finger in antiseptic. After a quick dry while holding the finger high, they wrapped the band aid around it.

  “Don’t you laugh,” she warned Emmee in a low whisper. “Not one snicker. You hear?”

  “Only if you promise to tell me what happened last night.”

  “Nothing happened!” she hissed.

  Emmee gave a sharp turn and laughed outright as she went to the front of the shop where her appointment waited.

  “Good morning, Ben,” Emmee greeted him with a voice bubbling with innocence. “I’m ready for you. Just had to do a medical repair on the Boss Lady.”

  One day I’m going to fire her, Georgie swore, and let a smile mask her face before turning to her own distressed client. “Okay, Jeffrey. See? All better.”

  Georgie never had a hair cut take this long, even with a band aid on, but she was grateful Jeffrey dropped the questions about her writing class. His next subject, no doubt, would have been Mason. After doing a quick sweep around the chair to keep hair from sticking to Jeffrey’s shoes, they went to the shampoo bowl to wash out any loose clippings from his hair. She then towel dried his hair, followed with a quick use of the blow-dryer.

  “There you go,�
� she said, after smoothing in the hair gel and pulling off the drape. “All set for the day.”

  “About my actions last night...” he started to say, his green eyes still avoiding hers.

  “Georgie,” Brandy called from the front desk.

  Georgie looked up and squinted at the sun-glare off the linoleum floor surface.

  At first, with the morning sun coming in through the windows behind him, all Georgie could see was a man’s tall silhouette. It wasn’t until he turned slightly and she saw the outline of all the paraphernalia on his belt that she realized what she was looking at.

  It was a police officer.

  Chapter Six

  “Georgina?”

  “What?” Georgie answered Jeffrey, but her attention was on the officer now moving in their direction. There was something familiar about the tall form, that long easy stride.

  Whispers spread through the waiting clientele, and those already being worked on, as they turned to get a good look at the rare happening... a police officer in Dare To Care Salon. There had never been an occasion warranting the services of a police officer on duty.

  “I’ll see you later,” Jeffrey said, handing her a twenty and a five instead of writing his usual check, but Jeffrey’s words were far away murmurs as the officer came closer, past the glare of the morning sun behind him.

  It was Mason.

  If she thought he looked good in a blue turtleneck sweater and leather jacket last night, seeing him in full dress black uniform complete with weaponry... she bit her lower lip to keep her mouth from dropping open. No one had the right to look that good.

  “Is that...”

  “Yes, it is,” Georgie told Jeffrey.

  “Miss Georgina Gainsworth?” Mason said, opening his little notebook. “I’m Officer Montgomery. I understand you had a theft last night.”

  “What?” Jeffrey stared at her. “Georgina!”

  “Jeffrey, calm down,” she said, somewhat taken back by Mason’s formality, yet respecting it. As he said, he was a police officer on duty, not M&M, nor BADGE 747 from her writing class.