prayed each day that Nurse Feeney had not called in sick, never fully sure that the substitute would know what to do in the event of an emergency.
“I’m not a baby, Mom. You don’t have to walk me into school every morning,” Raisin told her.
She didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t worry. I know what to do if something happens,” he added. “I have all my Skittles, gummy bears, and juice packs.”
“You might not be in the right state of mind, honey.”
“But that’s why we have Scout. He lets me know way ahead of time if something’s wrong.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not going to be a little kid forever. One of these days you’re going to have to learn to trust me.”
“I know.”
“Go home and take care of Katie.”
“Gramma Eaves is watching her today.”
“Why can’t you stay with her?”
“I have to return to work, remember? We have bills to pay.”
Raisin nodded and walked toward the school with Scout by his side. Isla stood numb for a few seconds, thinking about what her son had just said. He was growing up fast and would soon need to take more responsibility for his health. It was true; she wouldn’t be around forever. And if, God forbid, something happened to her, she couldn’t be 100 percent sure that Ray would keep Raisin safe.
She drove to the salon, knowing it would be a busy day. After canceling her appointments last week, she’d rescheduled them all for this week and next. With her clientele base still growing, she hoped that in the near future she could maybe hire out another chair. Staying busy would bring in much-needed revenue and would keep her mind off the fact that her daughter had been assaulted and her daughter’s best friend was still missing.
Willow had to be out there, and yet Isla felt guilty that she couldn’t continue to help search for her. With the bills piling up, she couldn’t afford to take more time off and potentially lose clientele, clientele that she had built, with a lot of help from Samantha McCallister, over a long period of time. Not only had Samantha been a valued customer, and an overly generous tipper, but she had touted Isla’s talents to all her upper-crust friends and acquaintances.
Isla turned into the center of town and parked in the back lot reserved for tenants, next to the big green Dumpster where she emptied the bags of hair at the end of each day. She unlocked the door to the salon and flicked on the lights, happy to be inside her cheerful little shop. In many ways it felt like a sanctuary, welcoming and warm. Working here gave her a respite from all the craziness in her life. Interesting and friendly customers conversed with her, soothing music played over the speakers, and there was plenty of coffee. More importantly, she was finally earning some decent money.
She hadn’t planned on cutting hair for a living, but it had turned out to be a good fit. She excelled at it and had discovered she had a talent for dealing with different and diverse people. All those ambitious college plans she’d had as a young woman had given way to the reality of family and financial matters. All in all, she couldn’t complain.
She put on her blue smock and glanced in the mirror. She thought she looked more tired and wrinkled than usual. Considering the circumstances, she could have looked worse. Then she powered up the barber pole: red for blood, blue for veins, and white for the towels used to clean up after the bloodletting, from back in the day when barbers did more than cut hair.
Because of Katie’s and Willow’s disappearance, she expected to receive an avalanche of questions today regarding her daughter’s well-being. She decided that when asked, it would be best to address the situation head-on. It would no doubt be the hot topic all week and for weeks to come.
She turned on the television and then unlocked the door. On the screen, a reporter stood in a field, interviewing Gil Briggs and his wife. Gil could barely speak, he was so emotional. He had to look away at one point, he was so overtaken with grief. Isla focused on Felicia, who stood perfectly still next to him, an ice queen, her eyes hidden beneath those patented dark sunglasses. The bell over the door jingled, jarring her out of her trance. Her first customer of the day and she hadn’t even checked her appointment book yet.