Kiss walk by. It was true. She’d gone out with him twice and the guy played air guitar to everything. Nirvana. Metal Head. Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Steve played it all, and it was
Except Nick. But he wasn’t available. Not to her anyway. Delaney leaned forward to look down the street and saw her Miata turn the corner. Steve steered the sports car with one hand, his hair dyed and cut short in a spiky crewcut. Two teenage girls sat like beauty queens directly behind him while one more girl waved from the passenger seat. Their hair was cut and styled to make them look as if they’d just stepped out of a teen magazine. Smooth and free-flowing and trendy. Delaney had scoured the high school, purposely searching for girls who weren’t cheerleaders or pep club officers. She’d wanted average girls she could make over to look fantastic.
She’d found them last week. After receiving their mothers’ approval, she’d gone to work on each of them earlier that morning. All three looked wonderful and were living, breathing advertisements for her salon. And if the girls weren’t enough, Delaney had taped a sign on the sides of her car that read: The Cutting Edge fixes ten-dollar haircuts.
“That’s going to drive Helen nuts,” Lisa muttered.
“I hope so.”
A collection of grim reapers, werewolves, and corpses passed, then a fifty-seven Chevy turned the corner with Louie at the wheel. Delaney took one look at his dark hair greased into a jelly roll and burst out laughing. He wore a tight white T-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve. In the seat next to him sat Sophie with her hair in a high pony tail, bright red lipstick, and cat’s-eye sunglasses. She smacked bubble gum and snuggled inside Nick’s big leather jacket.
“Uncle Nick,” she called out and threw him a kiss.
Delaney heard his deep chuckle just before Louie revved the big engine for the crowd. The antique car shook and rumbled, then for a grand finale, backfired.
Startled, Delaney jumped back and collided with the immovable wall of Nick’s chest. His big hands grabbed her upper arms, and when she looked up at him, her hair brushed his throat. “Sorry,” she muttered.
His grasp on her tightened, and through her coat she felt his long fingers curl into the wool sleeve. His gaze swept across her cheeks, then lowered to her mouth. “Don’t be,” he said, and she felt the brush of his thumbs on the backs of her arms.
His gaze lifted to hers once again, and there was something hot and intense in the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to give her one of those kisses that devoured her resistance. Like they were lovers and the most natural thing in the world would be for her to put one hand on the back of his head and lower his face to hers. But they weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. And in the end he stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides.
She turned around and sucked air deep into her lungs. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, feel the air between them charged with tension. The pull was so strong she was sure everyone around them could feel it, too. But when she glanced at Lisa, her friend was waving like a mad woman to Louie. Lisa hadn’t noticed.
Nick said something to Lisa and Delaney felt rather than heard him leave. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She glanced over her shoulder one last time and watched him disappear into the building behind them.
“Isn’t he cute?”
Delaney looked at her friend and shook her head. By no stretch of the imagination was Nick Allegrezza
“I helped him do his hair this morning.”
“Nick?”
“Louie.”
The light dawned. “Oh.”
“Why would I do Nick’s hair?”
“Forget it. Are you going to party at the Grange tonight?”
“Probably.”
Delaney checked her watch. She only had a few minutes before her one o’clock appointment. She bid Lisa good-bye and spent the rest of the afternoon on a three-color weave and two walk-ins.
When she was finished for the day, she quickly swept up hair from the last girl, then grabbed her coat and climbed up the back stairs to her apartment. She had plans to meet Steve at the costume party being held out in the old Grange hall. Steve had found a police uniform somewhere, and since he planned to impersonate a law enforcement officer, it seemed a given that she should impersonate a hooker. She already had the skirt and fishnet stockings, and she’d found a fluffy pink boa with matching handcuffs in the gag gift aisle at Howdy’s Trading Post.
Delaney stuck her key into the lock and noticed a white envelope on the step next to the toe of her black boot. She had a bad feeling she knew what it was even before she bent to pick it up. She opened it and pulled out a white piece of paper with four typewritten words: GET OUT OF TOWN, it said this time. She crushed the paper in her fist and glanced over her shoulder. The parking lot was empty of course. Whoever had left the envelope had done it while Delaney had been busy cutting hair. It would have been so easy.
Delaney retraced her steps to the parking lot and knocked on the back door of Allegrezza Construction. Nick’s Jeep wasn’t in the back lot.
The door swung open and Nick’s secretary, Ann Marie, appeared.
“Hi,” Delaney began. “I was wondering if you might have seen anyone back here today.”
“The garbage men emptied the Dumpster this afternoon.”
Delaney doubted she’d pissed off the garbage men. “How about Helen Markham?”
Ann Marie shook her head. “I didn’t see her today.”
Which didn’t mean Helen hadn’t left the note. After Delaney’s entry into the parade, Helen was probably livid. “Okay, thanks. If you see anyone hanging around that shouldn’t be here, will you let me know?”
“Sure. Did something happen?”
Delaney shoved the note into her coat pocket. “No, not really.”
The old Grange hall had been decorated with bales of hay, orange and black crepe paper, and cauldrons filled with dried ice. A bartender from Mort’s poured beer or cola at one end, and a country and western band played at the other. The ages of those gathered at the Halloween party ranged from teens who were too old to trick-or-treat to Wannetta Van Damme, who was tying one on with the two remaining World War vets.
By the time Delaney arrived, the band was well into its first set. She’d dressed in a black satin skirt, matching bustier, and black lace garters. The matching satin blazer she left at home. Her black stilettos had five-inch heels, and she’d spent twenty minutes making sure the lines on her stockings ran straight up the backs of her legs. Her boa was draped around her neck and the handcuffs were tucked in the waistband of her skirt. Except for her teased hair and thick mascara, most of her efforts were concealed by her wool coat.
She wanted nothing more than to go back home and fall head first into a coma. She’d thought of not coming at all. She was sure the note had come from Helen and was bugged by it more than she liked to admit. Sure, she’d stalked Helen a little bit. She’d hidden in her Dumpster and scoured her garbage, but that was different. She hadn’t left psychotic notes. If Delaney hadn’t told Steve she’d meet him, she’d be curled up right now in her favorite flannel nightgown, after a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles.
Delaney reached for the buttons on her coat as her gaze scanned the crowd dressed in a wide variety of interesting costumes. She spied Steve dancing with a hippie chick who looked to be about twenty. They looked good together. She knew Steve saw women besides her and wasn’t bothered by it. He was a nice diversion sometimes when she needed to get out of her apartment. He was a nice guy, too.
She decided to keep her coat on as she made her way into the crowd. She squeezed by two cone-heads and a mermaid and almost ran smack into a
“Hey, Delaney,” he said above the sound of county music. “I heard you moved back.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar and he obviously knew her. She hadn’t a clue. His hair was slicked back with black spray-in color, and he wore a red and black uniform with a symbol that looked like an A on his chest. She’d never watched
