by saying he would be staying in Summer Harbor for a while and wanted to know if they cut men’s hair.
“For you, honey, you bet,” the matronly blond woman wearing a black plastic apron said with a wink so broad he couldn’t keep from grinning back at her. “I’d love to get my hands into that hair. I’m Esther.”
“Hi, Esther. I’m Rand. I’m renting a room at the Crawford’s.”
The woman’s smile became even broader. “Oh, that’s good. I know they were looking to do that. They’re good people, they’ll take care of you.”
He hesitated, aware of several women in the place, in various stages of what looked like strange and exotic treatments, then plunged ahead. “I like them. I don’t think their granddaughter likes me, though.”
“Kate? Now that’s odd, she likes most people. She’s the sweetest girl. Glad she’s back here where she belongs, especially after what she’s been through. Whatever made you think she didn’t like you?”
He decided on the concerned approach this time. “She’s not in any trouble, is she? Is that why she’s a bit edgy?”
“Kate, in trouble? Not likely,” the woman replied, complete certainty in her tone. “If she’s edgy, it’s because she’s worried. Her grandparents have had some money trouble, and they’re not getting any younger, so their health is on her mind.”
“Well,” Rand amended, “maybe it wasn’t just me, but the whole idea of me renting a room from her grandparents.”
“Well, that could be. She’s very protective of them. But I’d think she’d be glad to see a handsome, eligible young man around.” The woman waggled an eyebrow at him. “You are eligible, aren’t you?”
“For several things,” Rand said.
She laughed. “Oh, Kate’ll like you, all right. She’s got a weakness for wit.”
He smiled and thanked the woman, then turned to escape from the chemical smell and the interested gazes of the other women. He wondered if he’d be a topic at several dinner tables in Summer Harbor tonight. This small-town stuff was going to take some getting used to. He’d dealt with it in villages around the world, but somehow he’d never come up against it here at home.
Is anyone that perfect? he wondered as he got back in the small SUV he’d rented for the duration. Did everybody in this town think Kate Crawford walked on water?
It wasn’t until he got to the single gas station to fill up that he got his answer to that.
“Oh, you mean Miss-too-good-for-the-likes-of-us?” The man in the grease-stained overalls, with the patch reading Scott, wiped his hands across his chest, depositing even more grease.
Rand’s radar flipped into search mode. The man had wandered out from the garage when he’d pulled up to the pumps, as if he’d been waiting for someone to come in. After listening to him gripe about the weather and the people who complained about the price of gas, Rand had steered the man to the topic he wanted. And had gotten the first negative comment in town about Kate Crawford.
“Came back from the east a little snooty, did she?” he asked casually, keeping his eyes on the pump nozzle but also watching Scott out of the corner of his eye.
The man snickered. “It’s those Redstone people, they think they own the world.”
Whoa, Rand thought. Where’d that come from?
Scott sniffed audibly. “What’s that? Smells like ammonia or something.”
“It’s probably me,” Rand said, ruefully amazed it was still discernable over the gasoline fumes. “I stuck my nose in the Curl and Cut for directions.”
Scott picked at a greasy fingernail as he laughed. “That’ll teach you. You can smell that Esther coming for miles. Good thing, since she insists on butting into everybody else’s business. Old hen.”
A small Japanese sedan went by, stereo booming out bass so loud it shook the metal price sign out at the curb.
“Damn kids,” Scott snarled. “Think everybody wants to listen to their crap.”
“It was loud,” Rand agreed mildly.
“Call that music, too. Stupid idiots. They’re as bad as those high-falutin’ classical snobs, with all that music by dead guys.”
Ah, Rand thought. I get it now. It wasn’t Kate or Redstone in particular, this guy just hates the world. Guess there’s one in every town, even one this small.
He paid for his gas and pulled out of the station. Tank now full, he decided to explore a little, get the lay of the land, particularly around Redstone. As he drove, he thought about something Esther of the Curl and Cut—or was it Cut and Curl?—had said.
Glad she’s back here where she belongs…
That seemed to be the consensus around here. Kate Crawford may have left Summer Harbor, but they’d clearly never forgotten her. And when she’d returned they had welcomed her with open arms.
The rest of what Esther had said came back to him then.
…especially after what she’s been through.
He knew, from the file he’d read at Redstone headquarters before he’d come here, that Kate had been married once, and had lost a child to illness. Maybe that, he thought now, was the reason for that circle the wagons feeling he was getting. But that had been years ago. And she’d left Summer Harbor long before that, and only come back in the wake of that tragic loss.
Or maybe it was simply the dynamic of a small town.
Rand shook his head in wonder. He’d been around the world, been in cities, villages and places even smaller than Summer Harbor, where the nearest civilization was hundreds of miles away, but he’d never spent a lot of time in small-town America. And while he couldn’t deny the sheer beauty of this part of the world, this kind of tightly knit community already had him completely bemused.
He thought about what he’d learned about Kate Crawford this morning. That for the most part, Summer Harbor loved her. And that she had been, at most, a bit edgy of late. Hardly enough to convict someone for theft.
But added to the fact that she had motive—apparent financial problems—and opportunity, it was enough to keep her way up on the suspect list.
And if he didn’t care for the idea, it was only because he already liked her grandparents. He didn’t like thinking about what it would do to them to find out their granddaughter was a thief.
He checked once more on the gun lockbox under the seat. His two-inch .38 was inside to avoid discovery, and he hoped fervently he wouldn’t have to use it.
Chapter 4
“No, not that one, silly boy! Don’t you know a weed when you see it?”
“Apparently not,” Rand said with a grin as he released the threatened plant.
He’d been working in the backyard with Dorothy
