“What about…”
He interrupted before I could get the question out of my mouth. “Yeah, I checked ‘er business line, and yours too. No calls from Dad. But, if it’ll make ya’ feel better, I can call and have a unit go by to check.”
“No…” I said after a moment. “Probably not. Not yet, anyway. If I’m wrong then that will just stir up a big mess all over again.”
“I agree… and yeah, you’re wrong.”
“I just don’t get it, Ben. Why would she leave? After everything that’s happened. After what showed up here. She knows it isn’t safe.”
“We’re talkin’ about Firehair here. You wanna ask that question again or think about it first?”
“I guess you’re right,” I mumbled then looked back toward the storm door. The condensation had obscured the view once again. “I suppose we’re going to look like idiots when she rolls back into the driveway with groceries or something.”
“Yes and no,” my friend replied with a sideways bob of his head. “When it turns out ta’ be nothin’, yeah, it might look like an overreaction on the surface; but, under the circumstances, this is all warranted. Besides, ain’t a copper I know of who wouldn’t rather have a call turn out ta’ be nothin’, rather than somethin’. Believe me, we live for that shit.”
Ben’s cell began trilling in his pocket, so he dug it out and answered it.
“Yeah, Storm… Uh-huh… Yeah… Where? North or south? Okay, any sign of ‘er? Okay. How’s it look? Yeah. That’s good. Okay. Thanks.”
I was talking before he had even managed to switch the device off. “What? What is it?”
“Firehair’s Jeep is sittin’ on the north lot at the Galleria. Call just came in.”
“That’s less than a mile from here.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Is she…”
“All they found is the Jeep, Row, but it’s parked and locked. No sign of any foul play. Like I said earlier, she’s probably inside shoppin’. They’re gonna page ‘er. C’mon, grab your coat and we’ll go over there.”
The drive was short; still, with traffic it took us a handful of minutes before we pulled off the main drag into the entrance of the large indoor mall. Ben turned early and aimed his van across the less crowded portion of the front parking lot before cutting over toward the far side of the shopping center.
As we rounded the corner and entered the north lot, I spotted Felicity’s Jeep parked at the far end of the first row. Angled in behind it were a Briarwood Police cruiser and a mall security vehicle. As we continued up the aisle, I could see two uniformed officers standing next to the Jeep chatting with a petite woman who was gesturing toward the side entrance.
My heart skipped a beat before starting to race yet again because, other than her small stature, she looked nothing like my wife.
“Why did you do this?” I asked, confusion in my voice.
“I already told you,” my wife replied.
“Tell me again.”
“Because, I don’t want to look like her.”
I simply stared at her across the kitchen, unsure of what else to say. As it turned out, I had been mistaken. The woman talking with the two officers on the mall parking lot was, in fact, Felicity. In my defense, however, I had a valid reason for not recognizing her at a distance. The truth is, I even had a reasonable excuse for doing a double take when I got out of the van less that twenty feet away from her.
“I still can’t believe you had the police looking for me,” she countered.
“Why not?” I asked. “After what happened today? Not to mention that you told me you were going to lock the door and finish packing, but then I come home and you’re gone. What kind of reaction did you expect?”
“Aye, you have a point. I suppose I should have left you a note.”
“You shouldn’t have gone out to begin with.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Maybe I am, but I think maybe you’re under reacting.”
She simply shrugged and continued to look at me with her head cocked to the side, a mildly curious look in her eyes. I don’t suppose I could blame her. I was still staring at her, just as I had been for several minutes. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had blinked.
“It will grow back, Rowan,” Felicity announced after a moment then leaned back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. “Really, it will.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “But… I don’t know…”
Her cascading tresses, which once reached down to her waist, now came to a blunt end just below her shoulders. While there was still a good bit of body to them in the form of a rippling wave, the loosely spiraling curls were all but gone as well. However, radical as those changes were, even they paled in comparison to the fact that her color had gone from fiery red to inky black.
As she looked back at me now, her ivory complexion appeared ghostly white beneath the stark contrast of the straight-banged, retro hairstyle. I knew I didn’t have a say in the matter. It was her hair, not mine. But, I’d never seen her with short hair before, much less any color other than her natural red, so I was more than just a little taken aback.
“But what?” she asked, prompting me for the rest of my aborted sentence.
“You just look… Well… Different.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted.”
“Really different,” I repeated with added emphasis.
“You don’t like it?” she asked.
“It’s not that… It’s just… I mean… I just think it’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Gonna be kinda hard ta’ call ya’ Firehair now,” Ben announced from his seat at the table.
“Aye, the color is temporary,” Felicity replied, twisting a lock of her new coif around her finger and pulling it up where she could glance at it from the corner of her eye. “It will wash out over the next couple of weeks. Of course, if I decide I like it I can get a more permanent dye job.”
“Could we maybe just take things one step at a time?” I appealed.
“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I was only kidding. I like my natural color.”
I tried not to be obvious about my relieved sigh but failed miserably. Fortunately, she took it in stride and merely grinned.
“Well, I’ll say this much,” I offered. “You definitely seem to be in a better mood than you were when we left earlier.”
“Aye, it’s amazing what getting your hair done will do for your attitude,” she replied with a smile. “Now, what are we going to have for dinner? I’m starving.”
“Well, after you two finish gettin’ packed, we can pick up somethin’ on the way to my place,” Ben offered. “I’ll buy.”
“Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you,” Felicity replied. “I changed my mind. We’re staying here.”
“You’re what?” he asked, a healthy note of surprise in his tone.
“Don’t worry,” my wife replied, her demeanor remaining entirely nonchalant. “I’ll still let you buy.”
CHAPTER 33:
“Are you going to need to run home for some fresh clothes or anything?” I asked.
“No,” Ben replied with a shake of his head. “Got an overnight bag in the van for emergencies.”
“Emergencies?”
“Yeah, emergencies,” he repeated, shooting me an obvious you know what I mean kind of look.
