by D'Ann Lindun
Viola’s eyes sharpened. “What’s the problem, young lady?”
Summer knew there wasn’t anything Viola liked better than a piece of gossip to share with her ladies’ sewing circle. Her heart must be broken today because her fellow rumormonger wasn’t here to spread more stories. Summer busied herself moving combs around on her workstation. “Nothing, ma’am. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Your mama okay?” Viola barely kept the venom out of her voice. It wasn’t even concealed well, riding just under the surface.
“Yes, ma’am. Mama’s fine.” Summer kept her face averted so the woman couldn’t see her face. Mrs. Krebbs and her crowd didn’t care about Mama. All the busybody wanted was a juicy tidbit to dissect with her friends. Her bunch showed how much they cared about MiLann when they whispered a divorced Yankee who wore her skirts too short got what she had coming.
Viola smiled like a little yippy dog about to bite. “Give her my regards.”
“Will do.” Summer had no intention of doing any such thing.
“All’s not lost. Check the book. You have another appointment. Someone called and I gave him Mrs. Simpson’s spot.” Glory grinned. “It’s not a perm, but a client is a client, right?”
“Absolutely.” Summer didn’t care whose hair she cut just so they paid. “A man? Who is it?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t get his name.” Glory shrugged. “He hung up before I could ask for it. This fellow asked if you had any openings this morning and to put him with you.”
“Me? Why?” Summer figured her surprised expression matched Mrs. Krebbs’s. Although not unheard of, they didn’t get many men in the Curl Up and Dye. Most of Juliet’s middle-to-older male population hung out at Leroy Eaton’s place on Main whether they needed a haircut or not. And the younger kids went to one of the fancier salons down in Jackson.
“Couldn’t say,” Glory said around a mouthful of bobby pins.
Mrs. Krebbs dangled her hand at the wrist and gave it a few little shakes. “Must be a funny boy.”
Glory shoved another bobby pin in the meddler’s head and she gave a little yelp.
“Sorry,” Glory mumbled, promptly digging in another pin.
Before anyone could respond, the bell over the door chimed. All heads turned, Mrs. Krebbs rubbing hers. All mouths dropped as Trey Bouché walked in.
“I have a ten o’clock appointment,” he announced casually. Nothing in his demeanor suggested he didn’t walk into a women’s salon every day.
Summer’s stomach did a few rollovers. She didn’t know what to do. The vow she’d made to her mama ran through her head. She’d promised not to see Trey again, and here he stood not even twenty-four hours later. If she treated him coldly, she’d be in trouble with Glory. Worse, Viola would be watching like a hawk just waiting for any tiny tidbit to spread over town before her curls dried.
Summer forced a casual tone. “What would you like? A haircut?”
He grinned and ran a hand through his already short style. “Yeah, I’m getting a little long.”
What a liar. Although a bit longer than most military men wore, it was still short by most standards. She bet he’d cut his hair less than a week ago. “Do you want your head shaved?”
His smile faded. “No. Not that. Just take a little off the top.”
“That’ll take about a minute.” Summer motioned to her booth. “Sit here.”
He settled his big frame in the delicate chair. She tied a dark brown apron around his neck, taking great care not to touch him as she tied the strings. Her fingers stilled for a second as she remembered tasting his neck and the way he’d trembled. She jerked the knot tight and their eyes met in the mirror.
His dark and unreadable, hers angry.
She dropped her gaze to his gold-tipped locks. “A trim?”
“Yeah.” His voice grated on her nerves like a nail file dragging across a counter. She tried not to shiver.
Hesitantly, she ran her fingers through his hair, just as she did every client who came through the door. This was different, though, and they both knew it. A dark red burn crept across her face as she thought about the last time she’d touched his hair. His mouth had been at her naked breast, her fingers splayed at the back of his head inviting him closer.
She leaned across him and reached for a pair of scissors, her breast brushing his shoulder. Her hands seemed to grow ten thumbs and the lid from the disinfectant jar fell to the floor, rolling across it. In the silent room the lid ricocheted like a firecracker. Viola and Glory both turned their attention her way. Ignoring their curious glances, she dashed after the lid, caught it and returned it to its rightful place. She needed to get a grip before this got embarrassing.
Scissors safely in hand, she went to work, concentrating only on the task in front of her until out of the corner of her eye she saw Glory leading Mrs. Krebbs to the sink. As soon as the water came on she hissed, “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see if you were okay,” he answered in a low tone.
“I’m as fine as can be expected.” Oops. She snipped a bit too much. She’d have to smooth out the rough spot.
“Have you heard from Jace?”
“No.” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Another tiny thread of his woodsy-smelling hair fell to the floor. “And if I did, you’d be the last person I’d tell.”
“You’ll see him.” He sounded positive. Almost like he knew something she didn’t.
Startled by his so-sure tone she faced his reflection. “How do you know? And keep your voice down.”
“Because he’s got nowhere else to go.” His dark eyes bore into hers. She looked away first. “He’ll be changed, Summer. Not the same person you remember.
“No thanks to you.” With quick, sure movements she moussed his hair with her palms, her thoughts focused on her brother. Jace might not be the same innocent boy he’d been, but he was still her brother. Blood ran thicker than water. “Jace wouldn’t hurt me or Mama.”
“Jace is a convicted murderer because he stabbed a man to death. Not because of anything I did. You know that.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not worried about him hurting you physically. Emotionally is another story.”
He sounded so protective, she weakened for a moment. Then she stiffened her spine. “You don’t need to worry about anything to do with me. Especially if it concerns my brother, who you helped frame.”
His features froze. “I’m just trying to lend a hand.”
“Don’t.” Summer hardened her heart. “Stay out of my life. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Are you ever going to face the truth?” His tone matched hers. “Or continue to live in denial forever?”
“Are you going to admit you’re wrong about Jace?” She glared at him, glad her scissors were out of reach. Stubborn, pig-headed ox. Why couldn’t he just admit there might be a perfectly logical reason Jace had blood on his hands? Like maybe he tried to save Soloman’s life, not end it.
He stood and pulled a twenty out of his pocket. “This ought to cover it. I don’t care if you want me around or not; I’m sticking close until Jace is found. There’s nothing I can do about the past, but I can make sure another tragedy doesn’t happen.”
She wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Leaving the bill on the counter, he left.
The minute Trey went out the door, Summer hurried in the back room and called home. On the third ring, Mama picked up. “Hello? Jace? Is that you?”
“No, Mama. It’s me.” Summer relaxed a fraction. Jace hadn’t returned.
“Hi, darlin’. I keep looking outside every few minutes, but I haven’t seen anyone. I thought this might be Jace calling.” Apparently picking up on her anxiety, Mama’s voice rose. “Is somet
hing wrong? Have those people done something bad to him?”
Summer closed her eyes. She could see her mother, fingers plucking at the collar of her floral dress, gaze darting about looking for monsters in the air. “No, Mama. Everything’s fine. I’m just checking to see if you need anything from the Piggly-Wiggly.”
“You scared me there for a minute. No, I don’t think so. Well maybe a pint of cream. I could make some whipped cream to go on the cake … ”
Tuning her out, Summer breathed a sigh of relief. This conversation was similar to the one she had with her mother every day. She finally said, “Okay, Mama. I’ve got to go. Just cream? Anything else?”
“No, darlin’. I’ll see you tonight. Hurry home, please. We’ve got to make certain your brother’s first night home is a special one.”
Instead of arguing, Summer hung up hoping Trey was wrong. Maybe Jace would run the other direction; maybe he’d go to the Gulf of Mexico and disappear on one of the many unnamed islands out there. The more distance he put between him and this town, the better.
As soon as Glory finished Viola’s perm, took her money, and ushered her out the front door, she settled onto a stool. “Spill it. What’s going on?”
Summer evaded Glory’s sharp gaze. She went in the back room and poured two glasses of sweet tea. Faking nonchalance, she came back out. “What makes you think something’s going on?”
Glory shrugged and took her tea. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because when that tall drink of water came strolling in here, you tensed up like a bird with one foot on a hot wire. I got a strong feeling he meant a bit more to you than just a customer looking for a cut and style.”
Knowing Glory wouldn’t give up until she knew what made her so nervous, Summer sipped her tea trying to decide how much to divulge. “That was Trey Bouché.”
For a moment, Glory didn’t react. Then her mouth formed a perfect O. Snapping it shut she said, “Oh my gosh. No wonder you froze up like a cherry popsicle.”
“Yeah.” Glory moved here after the scandal and Summer hadn’t talked about it much, but Juliet was a small town. Gossip traveled faster than trash on a windy day. Summer preferred not to discuss her involvement with Trey. She’d been dumb enough to sleep with him once. She didn’t want to share her humiliation with anyone. Not even one of her best friends.
“Why on earth would he come here?” Glory studied her over the rim of her glass, her emerald-green gaze sharp as cut glass. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was looking for you.”
Before Summer could reply, the doorbell chimed. Both women looked toward the new arrival. Lilah Desmarteau, the third stylist at the shop, came bursting in. Her coffee-with-cream skin, almond shaped eyes, and ample curves often caused men to fight for her affection, but Jody Marvell held her heart.
“Summer. My goodness gracious, honey. Are you all right?”
Summer sighed. She should’ve known Jody couldn’t resist Lilah’s charms. “What’d Jody tell you?”
“Not a thing. I heard some news on his little ole police scanner.” She wiggled her raven’s wing eyebrows a few times. “Baby doesn’t know I listen sometimes just for fun. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”
“What are you going on about?” Glory demanded. “You’re not making a lick of sense.”
“Well, really.” Lilah wiggled over to her empty booth and settled into her chair. She picked up a comb and studied it as if she’d never seen one before. “I guess you don’t want me to catch you up on all the newest developments. I don’t know all that much anyway. Summer’s got the big scoop.”
“What! What!” Glory looked ready to explode with curiosity.
Trapped, Summer reluctantly shared her secret. “My brother escaped from a bus wreck near Angola yesterday. Chief Bouché believes Jace is headed home with revenge on his mind. Jody came out last night to warn me.”
“This gets stranger by the minute,” Glory commented to Lilah. “Guess who was here, looking for a haircut? Trey Bouché himself.”
Lilah opened and closed her mouth a few times. “No way. Jody told me Trey was back in town, but I haven’t seen him yet. He showed up here? Why?”
“Trey came to see me,” Summer said. “Last night, he was with Jody. Today, he said he was checking up on us. He said he’s going to keep anything bad from happening to Mama or me.”
Lilah recovered her power of speech first. “Well, there’s worse things in life than being protected by a big ole hunk of man like that.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Glory jumped up, placing her hands on her hips, ready to argue. In her opinion, a woman didn’t need a man for much more than recreation. Certainly not for protection. Lilah’s helpless act around Jody made Glory nuts.
Summer held up her hand. “Please, you two, not the man, no-man argument again.”
Glory, puffed up, slowly pulled in her feathers. “Fine.”
“Okay.” Lilah leaned forward. “How does Trey look? What did he say? Is he still one fine piece of man cake? Tell, girlfriend, tell.”
“He looked good.” Glory licked her bright red lips. “Real good.”
“I don’t want him anywhere around me.” Summer refused to admit exactly how great Trey looked. Time hadn’t hurt him any. “If Mama finds out he was here today, she might go off the deep end for good. I had to tell her he showed up last night and it took forever to calm her down. I didn’t even get around to telling her about Jace because she was so upset about Trey. I finally got the chance this morning. She took the news okay. Better than I thought she would.”
Both women stared at her waiting for more details.
“She completely lost it last night,” Summer said, “and she made me promise not to have anything to do with Trey ever again. Of course I agreed.”
“That was a bad move.” Glory sipped her tea.
“What?” Summer spun her styling chair around and stared at her friend. “Why?”
“Because if the heat sizzling between you two today is any indication of how you feel, then steering clear isn’t going to be easy.” She fished a piece of ice out of her glass and held it toward Summer. “Here, hon, you’ll need this.”
“Heat? Are you kidding? I loathe him,” Summer sputtered. Trey Bouché and his father are the reason my brother has been rotting in jail and my mama won’t leave her own front porch. The only heat you thought you saw was my suppressed rage. I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to talk to him, and I don’t feel anything for him but hatred.”
“You keep telling yourself that. You might eventually believe it.” Glory reached over and touched Summer’s knee with the ice cube. “But I judge differently. Me thinks thee protests too much.”
“Oh, for crying gypsies!” Summer jumped up, and without a backward look, stomped into the laundry room. Fuming, she threw a stack of dirty towels in the washing machine and turned it on. For a moment, she stared into the washer. Glory didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Of course she had been tense when Trey strolled into the shop like he had every right to be there. He betrayed her brother. She held absolutely nothing in her heart for him now. There wasn’t room for the risk.
• • •
As he left the shop, Trey noticed the hood of Summer’s car up and someone bent over, head hidden underneath. Curious, he walked over to see who it was. As he approached, the man looked up with an expression of pure terror. Galen Franks. Trey wondered about his fear. He never harmed any of the Franks, although he knew they took a lot of abuse. Maybe this one had a run-in with the Chief.
“Hey. What’s up?” He kept his voice soft, using a tone one would use with a frightened hunting dog.
The big man cocked his head. “Nothin’.” Almost reluctantly, the other man held out his hand. “My name is Galen W. Franks.”
Trey shook hands. “I’m Trey. Good to
know you.” He indicated Summer’s car with a tip of his head. “What’s wrong with the car? I’m pretty good with engines. Maybe I can help.”
The obese man wiped his hands on his ample rear. “It don’t run good. Miss Summer needs it fixed.”
“Do you have any idea what’s wrong?” Trey bent over the engine. The whole car needed to be junked. But obviously Summer couldn’t afford something better.
The man gestured toward the spark plugs. “Needs new ones.”
“I see. Do you have some?” He lifted one corroded battery wire and snorted. The battery needed to be replaced too.
“Yeah.” Galen nodded toward his truck. “In the back.”
“Get them, and I’ll help you put them in.” Trey didn’t know what made him decide to help, but he didn’t want to leave until he made sure Summer’s car was running. He glanced at his cherry red mustang, and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. Restoring the old car with Jace and Jody had been some of the best times of his life.
Galen came back with the new plugs and they changed the parts in a matter of minutes.
“That’ll make Summer happy.” Trey slammed the hood shut. “I’m going to buy her a battery and cables. She needs them. She’s going to find herself stranded somewhere.”
Wiping his greasy hands on his filthy overalls, Galen said, “Miss Summer don’t like you no more.”
“Not much.” Trey wondered how the big guy knew this.
“She used to like you a bunch.” Galen giggled, high-pitched, almost girlish. “You were boyfriend-girlfriend. Sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“How do you know? Did she say something to you?” Trey couldn’t imagine Summer sharing anything intimate with this strange man. Had he spied on them five years ago? The guy was mentally challenged; no need worrying about him.
Galen shrugged.
Seeing he wasn’t going to get any more information out of him, Trey let it go. “I guess that’s it. See you around.”