Page 16 of Her Magic Light

The customer’s voice rose an octave. “Has she been doing something to the hair? Has she been hurting customers? I need to call my granddaughter. She had her hair colored just last week.” The woman stopped speaking and started scrabbling in the purse she held in an iron grip on her lap. “Now where’s my phone?”

My stomach tightened into a hard, knotted ball, but Bess spoke before I could say anything.

“Adelaide Mackenzie Lang, listen to yourself, really.” Her voice was a sharp rebuke.

Adelaide sniffed.

Bess glared at the woman. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with the work Meira has done. Do you think I would employ a criminal to work in my salon? To color the hair of those I consider my friends?”

Adelaide clucked her tongue and drew her cell phone from her bulky purse anyway. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” she muttered as she moved her fingers across the screen.

The moment word of this got out, when people started questioning me, Bess’s business could be ruined. Instead of helping her build, I could be her ruin.

Kate had only left the salon about thirty minutes ago, but already all of the things that I’d been imagining as I spoke to her—the idea that I could stay here and put down roots, maybe even take over Bess’s salon in the future—had evaporated into nothing.

“But what’s going on?” I nearly shouted the words. No one had explained anything. “Why do I need to come with you? What are the charges?” I scowled. “Who are you anyway?”

The helicopter did another sweep overhead, and no one replied. The expressions on their faces didn’t change. Helen…or whatever the hell her name was…maintained her hard, rigid stare, the grumpy man glowered, and Locke—the only one I could name—almost seemed to offer me a small smile of reassurance.

Then even that glimmer of hope was gone, and the grumpy one stepped forward. He held oversized dark shades in his hand. They weren’t small and sexy like the ones they all wore. These had been made to be more like a plastic blindfold.

“Your glasses.” He muttered the words as an instruction, and Locke walked slowly toward me, his pace almost hesitant like he might spook me. But hell, I was several miles pastspookedand hovering on sheer terror, but I battled against the tremors that would give me away, stiffening my knees so they didn’t shake.

“Easy now. Easy.” He kept his voice low and level like I was a horse or a dog that might kick or bite him. “I just want you to put these on.” He held out the hand holding the sunglasses.

“What? Why?” I wanted to back away, but I bumped against Bess behind me.

“Just put them on.” The grumpy man issued his words in a growl and waved his gun in a small gesture.

I took the glasses, and Bess gasped. But I needed to make her salon safe for her again. It wasn’t fair for her to be surrounded by an armed group when all they seemed to want was me.

Bolstered by my resolve to keep Bess as safe as I could, I put the glasses on, and my whole world grew darker.

seven

Itook a small step forward, and Bess’s fingers relaxed, her grip slipping from me. I probed the floor in front of me with the tips of my shoes, hoping the secret-whatever agents wouldn’t let me trip and fall on my face.

“I have to go,” I whispered over my shoulder. “I need to keep you safe.”

I thought she nodded, but the lenses were darker than any other pair I’d ever worn.

Locke was closer now, the cinnamon-spiced scent of his cologne washed over me. “Arms out, wrists together. If you touch your glasses, I’ll cuff your hands behind you.” His instruction was kind but didn’t allow for me not to obey, so I did what he commanded.

Cold metal encircled my wrists, and I shivered as Locke clicked the handcuffs closed.

“Is it done?” Helen spoke from her position by the door.

“Yes. As you instructed,” Locke answered gruffly like this part wasn’t wholly his idea.

“We need to get her into the car.” The man with no name spoke this time, his voice unhurried and all-business.

Locke gripped my upper arm and led me forward. Bess made a strangled sound, but I didn’t look behind me again. That would be too hard. I needed to get through this, go through the due process or whatever, and correct a misunderstanding.

“I’ll be back soon,” I called over my shoulder, trying to infuse the words with confidence and true belief, even as Helen scoffed somewhere ahead of me. I grimaced at the sound. Why did Helen have it out for me? It didn’t make any sense. Nobody hated hair colorthatmuch.

Locke led me out. “Watch your step,” he muttered as we moved over the threshold, more out of habit than concern, I suspected.

The soles of my shoes grated against the sidewalk. A little more light permeated the glasses, but still not enough to improve my mood or instill me with any idea that this situation would disappear. The sun kissed warmth over my skin, though, and for a moment I relished the heat, finding some strength there.

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