Most of my clients are men who generally see me once every two weeks for a quick cleanup at their wife’s demand. The women in town mostly come in to share gossip and touch up their roots. Their biggest worry is looking their best on holidays. The rest of the time it’s barely enough most months to keep my doors open and food on the table.
I’ve sunk every penny of my savings into Just Off the Top, remodeling and restoring the building. I built a play area for Kaylie and her friends to play in when their moms come in for service. I repainted and added all new chrome chairs and new shampoo bowls. A new display case was built for all my products to be kept in. Even made a small break room in the back where Leslie, another stylist who rents a station in my salon, can go to have a bite or get a quiet moment alone.
When I found out about Mama’s passing, I made immediate changes to ensure I would show myself to be the perfectguardian for Kaylie. The thought of putting her in foster care and allowing someone else to raise her gutted me.
Thankfully, Mama had some repairs done on the house over the years, bringing it up in value. It made it easier when I went to the bank to get a loan. There were a few things left to be done on the house to childproof it, and then my car needed to be upgraded. My old beater was okay for me, but I traded in my old piece of shit Toyota for a used SUV with more room and a better safety rating.
The payment is atrocious, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Kaylie and prove she’ll be safe with me.
“Damn it.”
Kaylie giggles again, pointing at me in the rearview to let me know I owe two dollars now. “Sorry, baby. I’ll do better.”
“What was that, ma’am?” the deputy asks.
“N-nothing. Sorry. I was talking to my sister,” I explain. “I’m almost there. Is anyone from the security alarm company there who can help? Did they catch anything on camera?”
“No ma’am. We got a call from your neighbor with the little boutique. She was here to open her shop and called us to report the vandalism.”
“Oh my God. Was her shop hit too? Is she all right?” Mrs. Baker is a sweet, older widow who owns the shop next door. She doesn’t have many customers, but she’s always telling me about how her little shop is what keeps her getting up and moving in the morning. How, without her husband, the shop is the only thing she has to take care of anymore.
I take some small comfort in knowing there’s a chance the cameras caught the person or people responsible. “Mrs. Baker is fine. A little shaken up about seeing your shop a mess and worried about you, of course. But her shop seems to be in order. This appears to be an isolated incident. I have a call intoGarrison Security to get copies of their footage, and that of the neighboring shops, but we haven’t gotten anything yet.”
“Isolated? Someone did this to me on purpose.” It’s not a question. My stomach turns as pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place.
Could the stalker be real? I thought I was imagining someone watching us.Shit.
“Yes, ma’am. It appears that way,” Deputy Bowman says, clearing his throat.
“Why would anyone destroy my salon? There’s nothing of value in there except some hair products. I don’t keep the cash on site.”
“Let’s talk more when you get here, ma’am. Drive safe.” As soon as we hang up, I’m dialing Garrison Security. I’m only a block away from the salon now.
“Garrison Security. This is Wyatt.”
“Wyatt, this is Everly Greene. Did my alarm at the salon go off at some point in the middle of the night?” I ask, while pulling into a parking spot in front of my salon and cutting the engine. I open my door and get out, making quick work of Kaylie’s car seat, and closing the door. When I finally look up, my heart sinks to my stomach. I pick Kaylie up and set her on my hip as we walk toward the mess.
The sidewalk is covered with shattered glass. It’s not just one window that’s been broken, butallof them. They’re all shattered into a million pieces. More glass is strewn all over the floor of the salon where the display cases have been smashed and products spilled onto the floor. Even the door is nothing more than an empty metal frame.
“Oh my God.” I breathe. Sensing my fear, and now feeling her own, Kaylie squeezes her little arms tightly around my neck, tucking her head into my chest. “We’re okay, baby. It’s just a bigmess. Nothing to worry about.” She nods her head and whispers, “Sissy, I want Mason.”
Me too.
No. No I don’t.
Lie to yourself some more, girl.
“Miss Greene? Everly? What’s going on?” Wyatt’s voice rings out in my ear. “Are you alright?”
“Uh, yeah. Physically, we’re fine.” I rub Kaylie’s back, soothing her. “My salon, on the other hand, is a whole other story.”
“We’ve been alerted to the sheriff’s deputy being on scene. We have a couple of our guys in route now. They should arrive shortly to check the system and get it up and running again. I’ve been working to collect the video footage that the sheriff’s department asked for, but it appears your system was turned off last night. Is there a reason you may have turned it off? The recording stopped just after midnight,” Wyatt explains.
“I didn’t shut it off. I was at home in my bed asleep hours before that.” I scoff. “I’m certain I armed it when I left last night, and I didn’t come back until just now. How could it have been shut off if it wasn’t by me? Who else has access to the system?” I say a little too loudly, catching the deputy’s attention and startling Kaylie in my arms. “Aren’t you guys in charge of the system? Who shut it off? Whathappened,Wyatt?” I’m rambling, I know I am, but I’m pissed and confused and …fuck!
“We didn’t turn off your system, Miss Greene. I don’t have an answer as to how your system was shut off at the moment, other than it wasn’t done by us.” I hear the rapid tapping of what I assume are computer keys in the background, but I’m too consumed by the overwhelming mess in front of me to ask what he’s doing, or to even care. “Hawk and Sadie are on their way to take a look at everything.”
Sadie? Shit.
