“Yes?”I asked in a tight voice.
“Uh, I have a call in with Ray to see if maybe he gave Craig permission to use one of the community boats.He wasn’t in.He’s getting a haircut.”
“Okay, thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem, boss.”She glanced at my phone and smirked.“Were you sexting the new woman you’re seeing?”
“No,” I said indignantly.
It wasn’t a lie.
She nodded, looking like she didn’t believe me.“Okay, boss, whatever you say.”
Once she was gone, I reread my text exchange with Spencer, smiling.Spencer was fun.Playful.I really liked that about him.I hadn’t had enough of that in my life since moving to Coral Cove.I’d been fully focused on the new job.And while that was important and I wanted to excel here as Police Chief, I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I’d made in the past.I’d need to find a balance between my job and my private life.
I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but neither was Spencer.He’d be the perfect distraction from a stressful job.I looked forward to more sexy sleepovers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Spencer
The bell over the North Jetty Barbershop door gave a tired jingle when I stepped inside.The place smelled like aftershave and a particular damp, musty smell all the places had in this seaside town.The shop was nothing fancy, with three hair-cutting chairs in the middle of the room, gray walls, and a rack of old magazines no one read against the wall.A TV in the corner played a muted news channel with closed captions running.
Ray was sitting in the middle chair with a cape draped around him while the barber, Mike, worked clippers up the back of his neck.
“Afternoon, Spencer,” Mike said, not looking away from his task.“Give me a few minutes.”Mike was in his late fifties, with thinning gray hair and a pair of reading glasses perched low on his nose.
“No rush.”
“Hey,” Ray said when he saw me in the mirror.“Didn’t know reporters needed haircuts.”
I smiled.“Oh, we don’t.Our hair is always naturally perfect.This is a recon mission.”My tone was sardonic.“I’m thinking of doing a piece on small-town grooming habits.”
Mike snorted.“You’re gonna run out of material real quick.”
Laughing, I dropped into the chair by the window and picked up a magazine out of habit more than interest.It was a fishing magazine, three months out of date, with half the pages dog-eared.
“How’s things?”Ray asked.
I looked up from the magazine.“Great.How about you?”
“Can’t complain.”
Mike finished up and snapped the clippers off.“You’re good,” he said to Ray, taking the cape off him.“See you next month?”
“Yeah.”Ray stood, brushing hair from his pants.He handed Mike some cash and then wandered over and settled into the chair beside me instead of heading out.
That wasn’t unusual behavior for Coral Cove.It had taken me a minute to get used to the way people were around here.Very sociable.People often lingered in the barbershop after their hair was cut.The North Jetty Barbershop was half barbershop and half unofficial community center.
“Be ready for you in a minute, Spencer.”Mike busied himself cleaning combs and his clippers, then he began sweeping up the hair on the floor.
Ray glanced over.“You hear anything more about Eddie?”
“Not much has been released,” I said, tossing the magazine onto the little table to the side of me.“As far as I know, it’s still up in the air, officially.”
He grunted, not quite satisfied with that answer.“What’s taking so long?”he grumbled.“I’d have thought the police would have figured out what happened by now.”
I myself had wondered the same thing.“I’m not sure why it’s taking so long.Something must be keeping the chief from labeling Eddie’s death.”
