Point of Attraction Read online

  PROLOGUE

  “All you have to do is get in that shop and take the stupid doll! Just how hard can that be?” he said, holding out the fat white envelope.

  He waited for an answer. None came; only that steady, polar cold, stare. He shivered, almost pocketed the envelope, and forgetting the whole thing, then decided to go on. He must hold firm; not turn back; the die was cast. “I want it clear. No one is to be hurt.”

  He pointed to the Dare To Care Salon. “I’m sure you can manage it. You should know all the ins and outs of such things. That’s why I chose you... a ... professional, so to speak.”

  Only a deep intake of air and just as long an exhale was the answer.

  “Do you want the job or not?” he snapped, then swallowed. He didn’t know anyone else, and he softened his tone. “That’s all you have to do. Just take the doll and bring it to me. Very simple.”

  He held out the money filled envelope; everyone needed money. It was the one thing he learned in life... everyone needed money. At the unmoved facial structure, he began to curl his hand, withdrawing the offering when it was wrenched out of his hand.

  “Done,” was the only word he heard before his car door opened and closed with a slam that rocked his car, leaving him alone in the dark.

  The swallow came hard to him.

  Margaret Van Der Wolf

  5915 N. DENVER AVE.

  PORTLAND, OR. 97217-4324

  COPYWRIGHT 2012

  POINT OF ATTRACTION

  By

  M. Van Der Wolf

  Perhaps no one would have died had Georgina Gainsworth not taken that last appointment for a hair cut before leaving her Dare To Care Salon. Maybe it all would have been different had she been out the door and on her way to her Wednesday night writing class before Jeffrey walked in.

  But Georgie did take the appointment and nothing that followed could be undone.

  ~~0~~

  Georgie barely heard all that Tonie, the last minute patron, was saying beyond, “This is the way I want my hair cut.”

  Immediately, Georgie’s focus went to the picture Tonie brought in with her.

  “I need it out of my way,” Tonie said. “You know, in and out of the shower and out the door I go.”

  “Got it. Let’s get you shampooed.”

  As she shampooed Tonie, Georgie’s nose twitched at the hint of cigarette odor in the young woman’s hair. Once she towel dried the clean hair, Georgie tunneled her focus on how much length was to come off and how to make the chosen style fit the face structure to make the cut Tonie’s and Tonie’s alone.

  Tonie was a referral, and no stylist had too many clients; not if she wanted to stay in business. Georgie had been a widow for three years and though Sam left her well cared for, to her, each patron entering Dare To Care Salon mattered. So fitting in Tonie had never been in question. The thing to do now was work fast, give the cut she knew she was capable of, and still be out of the shop with plenty of time to get to her writing class twelve miles away. From the outskirts of Portland, twelve miles could multiply in driving time during the evening commute.

  “This will do it,” Tonie said, looking in the mirror and pushing at her new cut with a smile. “Thanks for fitting me in on such short notice.”

  “Worked out well. Who can I thank for giving you my name?” Georgie asked.

  “Actually, I heard the checker at the market complimenting a customer on her hair cut and the woman mentioned Dare To Care Salon and your name. So, here I am and they were right. You are good and fast.”

  Georgie handed her a business card. “Nice meeting you, Tonie, and here’s my card. Hope to see you again.”

  “Oh, you will. Definitely.”

  The glass door swung open with the ping of the bell hanging from its frame, letting in the first cool hints of autumn air accentuated with the slight odor of burning wood from the fireplaces in the surrounding homes. It also let in Jeffrey Sanders and his shy smile.

  “Georgina, I thought I’d come in and make an appointment to get my hair cut.” His arm slipped around hers with a slight clandestine tug as he leaned into her.

  Georgie let herself be drawn away from the prying ears of her two hairstylists, Emmee and Brandy, and from Tonie, who was reaching for what appeared to be a dark gray suit inside a Best Dressed Dry-Cleaning plastic bag hanging on the salon coat rack by the dryers.

  “I thought we could go to dinner,” Jeffrey murmured.

  But before Georgie could answer, the door swung open again. This time the little chime announced Cassandra Blanes, Georgie’s writing classmate, childhood friend and her ride for the evening.

  “Hey, Cassie,” Georgie said, grateful for the interruption yet doing her best to keep from showing it. “I am ready to go out the door. Just need my coat. Jeffrey, thank you for the invite, but you know this is Wednesday, my writing class night, and I’m late.” She looked to Emmee who was pulling at her blond spiky-do while keeping her clear brown eyes on the scene through the mirror. “Emmee, can you make Jeffrey an appointment for me please?”

  “Sure thing,” Emmee said, one eyebrow lifting with a minute hint of a smile on her shiny glossed lips.

  “Brandy, you working late tonight?” Georgie asked, ignoring Emmee’s look. Evidently her moment of distress was bringing a little joy into her employee’s life.

  “Kind’a, sort’a,” Brandy said, from her styling station. “I’m just finishing up this perm, then have a hair cut and blow-dry coming in.”

  “Emmee?” Georgie asked, without eye contact.

  “My color is just driving up,” Emmee said, pointing at headlights shooting brightly through the shop window. The car motor died and its lights slowly faded out.

  “Okay. Gotta go.” Georgie ran her fingers through her own short hair to get it out of her face yet keeping that little care-free flip-out look, then pushed her arms through her coat sleeves. “Remember, try not to go out alone to the car. Safety in numbers.”

  “Yes, Boss Lady,” both hairstylists said, Emmee tossing Georgie her hat.

  Georgie caught it, shoved the knitted headgear in her coat pocket and started out the door, then stopped. She turned sharply and scanned the reception area. “Damn!”

  “Now what?” Cassie asked.

  “Where are my chapters? I had them. I know I had them. Last week’s and this week’s. Where are they?”

  “God, Georgie,” Cassie sighed, “get it together, get it together.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Georgie said. “Don’t be a nag. They’re here somewhere.”

  “This them?” Tonie asked, picking up a file folder from one of the hair dryer chairs.

  “Yes! Thank you.” Georgie pressed the folder to her breast and smiled at Tonie. “Nice meeting you, Tonie. If you have any problems with the cut, you know where to find me. See you all. Come on, Cassie, out the door.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, you’re not the boss of me,” Cassie scolded without malice while holding up her car keys with a sharp shake. “I’m driving tonight, remember? I have the keys. I have the power.”

  “Spare me your delusions of omnipotence please. Oops.” Georgie gave a turn on her heel and went behind the reception desk. She placed a fingertip to her lips then planted the quick kiss on Raggs, her twenty-four inch Raggedy Ann doll sitting on the glass shelf next to the shop’s hair products display. “‘Nite, Raggs. Don’t let the girls get into trouble.”

  “Now can we go?”

  “Yes, Cassie. Now we can go. Bye all,” Georgie said, leaving Jeffrey staring at her then at Tonie, and the girls waving their traditional so go, already wave.

  ~~0~~

  “That chapter you submitted last week was good,” Cassie said, steering her deep blue Cherokee Jeep out o
f the Western Shopping Center onto the highway.

  “Thanks.”

  “That love scene should play havoc with the guys.”

  Cassie’s laughter was infectious and Georgie joined in.

  “So, who was the shy violet you left stranded needing a hair cut?” Cassie asked.

  “Jeffrey? Very sweet. His father’s accounting office did Sam’s and my taxes. Since Sam’s death, my taxes and shop books are still done by Jeffrey’s office; Sanders Accounting, four units down from the shop. But Jeffrey refuses to work on any of my bookkeeping.” Georgie didn’t wait for Cassie to ask, but leaned over to whisper, “Conflict of interest, he says.”

  “Oh, my God! Straight and narrow as an arrow. Is that boring or what?”

  Georgie laughed, but shook her head. “We went to dinner once; no, twice, two dinners about a week or so ago. Or was it two weeks? Oh well...”

  “You actually went out on a date and didn’t tell me?”

  “I’m telling you now, aren’t I. Besides, it wasn’t really a date, or dates. It was a business thing. We talked, but there was very little in common. He likes foreign films with subtitles. I like mysteries, Sci-fi, and fantasies. I’m a Trekkie. He thinks we Trekkies are dumb.”

  “Oooh, and downhill from there?”

  “Sort of. I tried talking about my writing with him. You know, get feed back? Big mistake. You remember Laurie in Little Women? Same problem. Jeffrey thinks my writing is Oh, what a nice little hobby.” A deep sigh filled the quiet pause as Georgie waved a hand of surrender. “It’s just me, I tell you. Sam spoiled me.”

  “Sam was exceptional, I’ll grant you that. But Kiddo, it’s been three years, and I won’t tell you that I in any way know the pain in your heart, but... you’re my friend; the closest thing to a sis I can claim.”

  Georgie let a small laugh come out, knowing what was coming next.

  “Georgie, you’re going to have to let go one day. With Steven in med-school, Paula trying to balance law school, being married and pregnant; you need your life back.”

  “I know.”

  “You need to get out, date, maybe even get...”

  “Stop,” Georgie said, her voice a soft plea, her head pressed back into the seat headrest.

  “I’ll stop. But you do need to get out with the opposite sex.”

  A long sigh whispered its way out as Georgie said, “It’ll happen... maybe... Someday... but Sam’s a tough act to follow. Don’t know how or why, but he just put up with me and my... my... idiosyncrasies.”

  “Oh, is that what they are? Idiosyncrasies?”

  They laughed again, then let the pause lengthen into a quiet uneventful drive to the Community College. Cassie’s swearing over the crowded parking lot at the college was the silence breaker.

  “Hey, what about M&M?” Cassie asked, putting the car into a parking slot and pulling the emergency brake.

  “Who?”

  “M&M. Mason Montgomery?”

  It took Georgie a second, then pointed a finger at Cassie as they got out of the car. “Aah... BADGE 747, Detective Fletcher,” she said, referring to the novel and its main character that Mason Montgomery, AKA M&M, was working on. “Good story; a little gory, but very good writing. What about him?”

  “God, Georgie, you really, really do need to get out more,” Cassie sighed, her blue-green eyes pinching shut with a sad head shake, then snapped them open to give her a sharp look, “but not with Shyness, the accountant.”

  “Cassie, I’m fine with my life the way it is.” Georgie wanted to stop the conversation from going where she didn’t it want it to go.

  “Hey, George.”

  They both turned at the call.

  “Hey, BADGE 747,” Georgie greeted Mason Montgomery. He was the only one she knew that called her George. At his approach, she refused to look at Cassie.

  Mason adjusted his cap by the bill, almost in a salute greeting, then took his place beside them as they made their way up the long wide steps to the rows of classrooms. Georgie had to crane her neck to look up into his face. Mason had to be at least six foot three, which only emphasized her own five-foot one.

  “That was some love scene you submitted last week,” he said.

  “Guys,” Georgie defended against the typical attitude toward a scene involving sex. Sure, the jibes were all in good humor, but she still felt the need to fight for the whole of her work. “There was so much more to the chapter than the love scene. Is this what I’m going to hear from the rest of the class?”

  “I know it’s only three classes into September, but in case you hadn’t noticed,” Cassie said, “the guys outnumber us girls this term. So, yeah, I think you will hear more about the love scene than the rest of the chapter.”

  “Ouch. Testosterone takes a hit,” Mason said, his face scrunching up, then smiling. “The whole thing was good, George, couple of typos, but good. Hope when the time comes for Fletcher to hit the sack, I can write him a scene as worthy.”

  “Maybe you two can work on it,” Cassie slipped in with a subtle nudge at Georgie.

  Georgie felt molten lava cover her, and she hoped Mason hadn’t seen the nudge. Cassie was getting into her little matchmaker persona, and if Georgie didn’t bring it to a stop there would be no end to it. But right now, all she could do was stare straight ahead of her, very much aware of the satisfied grin on Cassie’s face. She was afraid to see what reaction Mason might have over the remark. Lord keep her from all the matchmakers in her life. Hadn’t Cassie noticed he was wearing a wedding ring? If ever there was a person who needed a good smack of reality, it was her dear friend.

  “You know, that’s an excellent idea,” Mason said, seeming to have missed the innuendo. “I know police work. But I need the rough edges of old Fletch rounded out a bit when the time comes.”

  Something in Mason’s voice caught Georgie’s attention, then she realized what it was. Excitement. That surge brought on by the need to be able to talk to someone about his work. Didn’t his wife read his writing? Comment on it? Sam always did that for her. Cassie had April. It was sad to think Mason’s wife couldn’t appreciate the talent in the man or want to be part of it.

  She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of what to say, then decided saying nothing was the best route. This was an area scattered with fragile, yet sharp, glass that could cut deeply, painfully.

  Her cell phone went off, and she dug under her hat in her coat pocket to fish it out. “This is Georgina.”

  “Georgie, she’s gone!” Emmee’s voice shook into Georgie’s ear, the words running into each other. “We looked and looked. We can’t find her.”

  “Emmee, slow down. Take a breath.”

  There was a long deep gasp.

  “Who’s gone?” Georgie asked.

  “Raggs! She’s gone. Someone took her.”

  Chapter two

  Georgie turned slightly to get better reception on her cell phone. “Emmee, slow down. Are you and Brandy okay?”

  “What’s going on?” Cassie asked.

  Georgie shook her head, motioned Cassie off, and stepped away while trying to keep out of the path of other students rushing to their classes. “Emmee, slowly. Take another breath. Are you and Brandy okay?”

  “Yeah, but...”

  “Okay. Was it a robbery? Did someone come in? What?”

  “No. Brandy was making change for a walk-in haircut when she realized Raggs was gone.”

  “Is there money missing?” Georgie asked.

  “No. We looked all over for her. She’s gone. It must have happened when we were both in the back at the shampoo bowls.”

  “Was Nick in? You know how he likes to move her around.”

  “No. Should we call the police?” Emmee asked.

  “You’re certain there’s nothing else missing?”

  “Not that we can see. The drawer hasn’t been tampered with. All the money’s accounted for. Just Raggs is missing.”

  “Don’t call the police then,” Georgie said
, and even as she began to form the words they choked her, “Raggs would probably not be on their priority list.”

  “Georgie. I’m so sorry. We should have been more alert...”

  “How could you have known. You guys be careful when you go to your cars. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  When Georgie flip-shut her phone, she struggled to hold back her tears, but they burned hot in the cold night. Her first thought was to go search for Raggs. There would be other classes, but she only had one Raggs.

  “What happened?” Cassie asked.

  “Raggs is missing.”

  “What?”

  “Who’s Raggs?” Mason asked. “And why not call the police?”

  Georgie let out a deep sigh and said, “Missing: one very old Raggedy Ann doll called Raggs. Somehow I can’t see the police putting out an Amber Alert or APB.” It hurt to keep her voice level and it was an effort to stay calm.

  “Oh, Georgie,” Cassie said. “Raggs’s been with you since... since...”

  “For a long time,” was all Georgie could say.

  “Where did this happen?” Mason asked. “In your home? That’s breakin’ and entry.”

  Georgie tried to answer, but held back.

  “No,” Cassie said, patting and smoothing Georgie’s shoulder. “She keeps... kept... Raggs at her shop.”

  “Still breakin’ and entry.”

  “They uh... didn’t break in,” Georgie said. When her voice shook, she paused, cleared her throat, and added, “The shop was open.”

  “It’s still a crime,” he stressed.

  “She’s just a doll, I know...” Georgie reflected on her words, found them so disloyal to her Raggs she had to stop. How could she explain? Being an only child, Raggs became that missing sibling on countless occasions when she was alone in her room. Even though she lived between Nick and Cassie, there were times when neither of them were around, but there was always Raggs.

  “George, listen,” Mason said. “You know I’m a cop. So I know what I’m talking about. This Raggs might be just a doll, but it’s a theft. Even if your place of business was open, it’s still a theft. Someone walked into your shop and walked out with something they shouldn’t. While it may not be an emergency, it is a crime. Call the police first thing in the morning and make a report.”