Jennifer Greene - Irresistible Stranger

It wasn’t a day to be fussy, but the manikins were decked out in bows and prints and polka dots. She almost headed straight back out, but the thirtyish brunette behind the cash register spotted her and immediately approached with a smile. “You have to be Lily Campbell. I see those hurt hands, you poor thing. The whole town’s buzzing with how you helped saved Louella’s house and Louella…come in, come in. I’ll help you. I can see you can’t do much with those hands. I’ll bet they hurt like the devil?”

They did. Everything seemed to hurt like the devil-but it did help, coming in town today, being greeted everywhere, so far, with smiles instead of suspicion. Jane didn’t do much talking, but behind her pretty eyes was a shrewd saleswoman. Packages on the counter added up. No bows, no doodads. A white lace bra, a navy satin one. Matching underwear. A sundress in pale blues. A breezy skirt and cami that could go to dinner, or just about anywhere else. A coral top, cream shorts-those she decided to wear, with Jane’s help.

The shop had earrings, bangles, shoes, bags, all the “stuff” to put it altogether. Lily didn’t intend to buy so much-if she was flying home, she just didn’t need that much from here. But Jane seemed to sort through the fussy stuff and come through with exactly what Lily liked, and it all added up. When she headed back out, her arms were heaped with packages, and naturally, by then it was pouring. She only had minutes to stash the clothes in her rental car and dash through the rain to the hair salon.

To her surprise, the only body in Mary Belle’s was Mary Belle-who appeared to be pacing in front of the storefront windows when Lily ran in. “I told everyone to take a two-hour lunch break,” she greeted her with. “Give us some time to chat. And I didn’t want anyone handling you but me.”

It was a kindly thing to say-but somehow Lily felt a sudden shiver. Of course, she was damp at the edges from her run through the rain, and the salon was more than cool. The shop looked like its owner. No soothing décor for Mary Belle; she’d opted for bright slashes of orange and yellow, seats in shiny purple.

“I don’t need much. Just a trim,” Lily said immediately.

“You need way more than a trim, honey. That fire sure singed you on one side, didn’t it? But don’t you worry. You’ll look like a new woman before I’m through with you.”

Again, Lily felt a frisson of unease. It was stupid. The mix of air-conditioning and intense humidity were creating the chill, nothing else.

She followed the other woman to the back, where Mary Belle wrapped her in a wild polka-dot cape and motioned her to the hair washing chair.

“You’re going to love this,” she informed Lily. Which was the truth. It was impossible not to love the scalp rub, the massage of warm water and fragrant shampoo products.

“I love this place,” Mary Belle said conversationally, yet there was the oddest tone in her voice. Regret? Sadness? “I built the shop from scratch, all on my own. Was never much of a student in high school. Not one of those college-bound types of girls. I always attracted the boys, of course, with my looks. But all they ever did was break my heart, and leave me pregnant with the bills for divorce. This place…this was all mine. I never let a man’s name get on it. If it were my choice, I’d never let a man through the door.”

Lily’s eyes were closed as Mary Belle rinsed out the shampoo, then massaged in conditioner with expert hands.

“It’s a wonderful place,” Lily said, for lack of anything better to comment.

“It’ll kill me to lose it.”

Lily assumed she’d misheard her. The comment made no sense-but the water was running, the conditioner being rinsed out, then a towel plopped on her head and the seat raised.

“Now for the trim,” Mary Belle said. “And I do promise. You’re going to get the trim of your life.”

Fear dried Lily’s throat. It was the stress, she told herself. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Even if somehow she found out the arsonist from all those years ago, even if that same female arsonist was the one who caused her parents’ fire, it wasn’t going to be someone who’d openly talked to her from the day she arrived in Pecan Valley. It wasn’t going to be the sheriff’s daughter. How crazy was that?

Mary Belle pumped the chair higher, then tied the long plastic cape tighter around Lily’s neck. The scissors suddenly gleamed inches from her eyes.

“I saw your picture in the yearbook,” Lily blurted out.

“Yeah? I was quite a looker, wasn’t I?”

“You still are,” Lily assured her.

“There’s no point trying to be nice now, honey. It’s too late. I knew when you got into town that it could all come crashing down if I wasn’t absolutely careful. But I swear, you are the dumbest woman. You could have left after the first fire. After the second. But no, you had to keep digging and digging and digging.”

Snip, snip, snip. Lily saw the snips of hair fall. Then hanks of it. About the same second she froze up with panic, she realized that Mary Belle hadn’t just tied the cape around her-but around the chair as well. She could move her legs. She could move her bandaged hands under the cape. But she couldn’t get out of the chair.

“Don’t be squirming around now. I don’t want these scissors to slip accidentally. Don’t worry. I’ll make you look good. You’re going to be last customer, and I want your hair cut to look just right.”

“Mary Belle-”

“The place will go up fast. Losing this place is going to kill me, like I said. But by the time the firemen get here, I’ll be out in the street, screaming for help, and you’ll be the only one inside. They’ll think you set yet another fire, Lily. And that this one finally got you, too. I never wanted it to be this way, I swear,” she said sadly. “But something I want you to know…”

“What?” Lily had stopped breathing. Her gaze tracked the movement of the scissors, her mind racing, trying to find a way out. Trying to think of a way out.

“Your parents, they were never supposed to die. I felt terrible about that. No one was ever supposed to get hurt, not physically-whoa there, bless your heart. That was silly, your trying to move. You’re not going anywhere.”

The tip of the scissors nicked Lily’s neck, right at the throat. A thin crimson line shone in the mirror.

“We’re not done with this haircut,” Mary Belle told her. “And believe me, you don’t want me to rush.” She turned the chair, so Lily had a view of the products on the counter. “See there?”

Mutely, Lily looked. The counter of products hadn’t caught her attention before, but there was nothing she wouldn’t expect to see in a hair salon. But now she realized that Mary Belle had set up an altar. The hair sprays and potions, the nail polishes and nail polish removers, all had their tops opened, and were arranged prettily with a candle in the center.

Only one other item was included in the display. A hairdryer. A plain old, standard salon hairdryer-except that the back had been removed, revealing the naked heating coils.

Mary Belle smoothly plugged in the hairdryer, at the same time she spun around and competently, swiftly, wrapped adhesive tape round and round Lily, the cape trapping her arms and upper torso. “It’ll be a little while before those coils heat up. We’re not done with the haircut. And I need a few more minutes to brace myself before losing my shop. This is the one thing I valued in the world besides my daughters and my daddy. So don’t be feeling sorry for yourself, because I’m gonna lose a lot here, too. If you’d just never come back, this never would have happened. It’s your fault. Everything’s your fault.”