Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

The sound of yelling pierced the early morning stillness, and Brynlee Layne jerked from sleep. Dread curdled in her stomach as she launched from the bed and raced toward the front of the house, her heart pounding.

Throwing open the front door, Brynlee winced at the sight that greeted her. Next-door, her neighbor, Sawyer Reed, was waving his arms wildly, shouting at her cat, who had once again made himself at home on the roof of Sawyer's meticulously maintained car.

"Scooter, no!" Brynlee called for the cat as she raced outside barefoot, her feet slipping on the dewy grass. “Get off there!”

The cool morning air sent goosebumps sprouting over her arms and legs. She reached the car and snatched Scooter off the roof, cuddling him close despite his protests, his claws digging into her arm.

Sawyer turned to her, his face a mask of fury. “Goddamn it, Brynlee, this is the third time this week! As if I don’t have enough to deal with right now. Keep your cat off my damn car!”

"I'm so sorry, Sawyer," she replied, trying to keep her tone calm. She could see the paw prints on the car's roof, evidence of Scooter's repeated escapades. "I've been trying to keep an eye on him, but he keeps slipping out the animal door."

"Maybe try a little harder," Sawyer snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation.

Dark circles ringed his eyes as he glared at her. His neatly pressed suit and polished shoes contrasted sharply with the oversized tee shirt and shorts Brynlee had slept in, and she shifted slightly, clutching Scooter close to her chest.

Next to him, she felt like a little girl. He was always clean cut and professional, and he stared down his nose at her like she never quite measured up. He knew how he saw her: she was just some airhead hippie who worked in a salon. Not that she cared, but he put her on edge, and she didn’t like it.

She gritted her teeth together and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

His lips pressed into a firm line as he regarded her for a moment. Then, as if deciding she wasn’t worth the time or aggravation, he climbed into his car and slammed the door. The engine roared to life, and Brynlee fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him as he pulled away and disappeared down the street.

“Grumpy prick,” she murmured as she turned to go back inside.

Every time they took one step forward, they seemed to take two steps back. Sawyer was meticulous—almost obsessively so. He washed his car several times a week, and she truly did feel bad about the cat ruining his hard work.

She had tried everything to keep Scooter inside, even fixing the animal door multiple times, but the clever cat always found a way out. The scratches on the inside of the door and the tiny footprints all over Sawyer’s car were a testament to her routine battles with the feline escape artist.

Ironically, Scooter always bolted straight for Sawyer’s car, and never her own. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Bad kitty,” she murmured, rubbing his head as she carried him back inside. “You better behave from now on.”

She set him down gently, giving him a stern look that he completely ignored, his tail flicking dismissively. With a sigh, she headed to the bathroom to get ready for work.

Standing in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair and applied a touch of makeup, frustration from this morning's confrontation lingering in her mind. The man was going to be the death of her.

She could admit that she would be mildly annoyed if he had a cat that continually came over to her place and made a nuisance of himself, too. But Brynlee tried not to get too worked up over little things like that. Sawyer was far too rigid. It seemed like Brynlee could never do anything quite right in his book. No matter what she said or did, his gaze constantly followed her, silent judging her and finding her lacking.

Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and focused on the day ahead. Saturdays at the salon were always hectic, and she couldn't afford to be distracted. She checked her hair and makeup once more to make sure she looked okay, then dressed and she grabbed her purse. She paused next to the door, giving Scooter one last admonishing look.

"Stay inside today, okay?" she pleaded. The cat blinked at her, unimpressed, before turning to groom himself. Brynlee rolled her eyes with a smile despite herself and locked the door behind her.

As she walked to her car, the morning air cool against her skin, she couldn't help but glance over at Sawyer's empty driveway with a sigh. Maybe one day they could find some common ground. This constant friction was terrible for her mood. She would definitely need to meditate and take some time to rebalance herself once she got home.

The drive to the salon was uneventful, the familiar route offering her a chance to clear her mind. She parked in her usual spot at the back of the lot, leaving the best spots for the customers, then headed for the front door. Unlocking the door, she pushed it over, the bell overhead chiming softly as she entered. The familiar, welcoming scent of lavender mixed with hair products greeted her, and she smiled.

Walking in here—into this place she’d created—never failed to lift her spirits. She’d opened Blissful Beauty just over a year ago and so far things were going exceedingly well. For several years Brynlee had worked as a massage therapist for a spa in the next town over. When the spa closed, leaving Brynlee without a job, she’d begun to advertise around town and worked out of her home.

Soon, she seemed to have enough interest to open her own place. It was a stroke of luck that her friend, Melanie, was a certified stylist. Brynlee had run the idea of opening a small salon and spa by her friend, and Melanie had immediately jumped on board. At first it was just the two of them, but business had grown steadily over the past year, and Brynlee had hired an additional four stylists to round out their staff.

Brynlee moved to her office and set her bag down, then checked her schedule, a small smile forming as she saw a few familiar names.

In desperate need of coffee, she made her way to the small employee break room next door and brewed herself a cup of coffee. Just as she lifted the rim of the mug to her lips, the jingle of the front door echoed through the salon.

Suddenly alert, she popped her head out to see who had come in. A smile curled her lips when her gaze landed on her friend and employee, Melanie.

"Hey, Mel!" Brynlee greeted. "How's it going?"

Melanie smothered a yawn as she cut across the salon. “Tired. Didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. How about you?”

"Same old.” Brynlee rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the break room. “Had another run in with Sawyer this morning.”

Melanie’s face clouded over. “Oh, that reminds me—did you hear about the murder?"

Brynlee stopped mid-step, glancing over at Melanie with wide eyes. "No, I didn't. What happened?"

Melanie bit her lip and made a face. "They think it was Lindsey Gill. Poor thing. They found her body this morning—or late last night, technically.”

Brynlee's heart sank. She had held out hope that Lindsey would come home safely, that she was just missing and not... gone. "That's awful," she murmured, her voice heavy with sorrow. "I was really hoping she'd be found alive."

Melanie nodded, her eyes glistening. "Me too. It's just so tragic."

Brynlee's thoughts drifted back to Sawyer. He’d looked exhausted this morning, dark circles under his eyes and a severe frown etched on his face. He was extra grumpy—even for him. He must have been up all night working on the case, trying to find answers.

She felt a pang of guilt as she remembered Scooter's latest escapade. She made a mental note to make sure Scooter couldn't get out from now on. The last thing Sawyer needed was more stress, especially with a case like this weighing on him.

Steering the conversation to lighter topics, Brynlee and Mel chatted for a bit as they readied the salon for the day. The morning sun streamed through the large windows of Blissful Beauty, casting a warm glow over the gleaming floors as Brynlee flipped the sign to "Open."

The scent of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of hair products and essential oils. The stylists were all in place, bustling around their stations and preparing for their first clients—all except for Jessica.

Brynlee frowned, glancing at the clock. Jessica’s first appointment was due any minute, and there was no sign of her. Just then, Jessica's client, a regular named Mrs. Hughes, walked in. She chatted warmly with Brynlee as she checked in, then took a seat in the waiting area. Brynlee's stomach tightened with anxiety as the minutes ticked by, each one making Jessica’s absence more conspicuous.

After five minutes, Brynlee made an executive decision. She walked over to Jane, a talented stylist who always stepped up when needed. “Jane, could you do me a favor?” Brynlee asked quietly. “Would you mind taking Mrs. Hughes for Jessica? She’s not here yet, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Jane grinned and nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. I’ll take care of it.”

Relief washed over Brynlee as she watched Jane escort Mrs. Hughes to her station. Brynlee was at the reception desk when Jessica sauntered in, twenty minutes late, an iced coffee in one hand and her cell phone glued to her ear. She didn’t seem to notice—or care about—the disapproving look Brynlee shot her way.

Brynlee caught up with Jessica halfway across the salon. “Jessica, I need you to end your call and come with me to the office, please.”

Jessica rolled her eyes but ended the call and followed Brynlee to the small office at the back of the salon. Brynlee shut the door behind them, drawing in a deep breath before turning to face her wayward employee.

“Jessica, this is unacceptable,” Brynlee began, her tone calm but firm. “You were twenty minutes late for your appointment, and this isn’t the first time. Your attitude and work ethic have been a problem for a while now. I’ve given you multiple warnings, but nothing has changed.”

Jessica had been with her since the beginning, one of the first stylists Brynlee had hired. At first, she was enthusiastic and dedicated. But over the past few months her attitude had changed. She talked back, made snide comments, and acted catty with both Brynlee and the other employees. Brynlee had corrected her behavior numerous times, but it only seemed to get worse.

She knew what she had to do, and the thought made her stomach churn. Firing Jessica was a risk. Several of her friends worked here, and Brynlee worried they might leave in solidarity. But she couldn’t let one person’s toxicity ruin what she had built.

Jessica crossed her arms, her expression defiant. “You’re overreacting. It’s just a few minutes. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that your clients depend on you, and so do your colleagues,” Brynlee said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “This isn’t just about today. It’s about the pattern of behavior you’ve established. I can’t keep covering for you. I have to think about what’s best for the salon and our clients. I’m sorry, Jessica, but I have to let you go.”

Jessica’s face flushed with anger. “You can’t do this to me! I’m the best stylist you have!”

Brynlee fought to remain calm. “Unfortunately, your lack of dedication outweighs your talent.”

Jessica gaped at her for a moment, her eyes darkening with fury. “My lack of dedication? Are you kidding me? My clients love me.”

“When you show up on time,” Brynlee agreed. “But this isn’t the first time I’ve had to have another stylist cover for you, and if I allow to you stay here, it won’t be the last. Your behavior is affecting everyone here, and I won’t allow it to continue.”

“You’ll regret this, you’ll see. You think you’re so high and mighty, but you’re nothing without me.” She stormed out of the office, her voice rising several octaves. “I don’t need this place anyway!”

Heads turned as Jessica made her way through the salon, her tirade drawing everyone’s attention. Brynlee followed, feeling the weight of her decision but knowing it was the right one.

Jessica paused in the middle of the room, her gaze sweeping over the dozen pairs of eyes that watched on. “Guess what, everyone? Brynlee just fired me!” she said loudly, her voice dripping with venom. “If you want a real stylist, I’ll be working out of my house for now.”

“Jessica—” Brynlee warned.

But that was all she got out before Jessica whirled her way. “Screw you, Brynlee!”

The iced coffee in the woman’s hand suddenly launched across the room, soaking Brynlee from head to toe and splattering the wall behind her. For a moment Brynlee was too shocked to move—then anger, hot and fierce swept through her. She sucked in a breath, ready to unleash several months’ worth of fury on the woman. At the last moment, she swallowed down the words, biting back the urge to snap at the woman.

Jessica was only making things worse for herself. Brynlee needed to remain professional; she didn’t want to say or do anything she would later regret. It took every ounce of restraint to stall the flow of angry words. “Please leave.”

“Whatever.” Jessica spun on a heel and flounced out the door, slamming it behind her.

The salon was silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Brynlee could feel the eyes of her other employees on her, the uncertainty swirling in the air. She knew she had taken a gamble, but she also knew it was the right thing to do.

She drew in a deep breath before turning toward her audience and forced a small smile to her face. “I’m sorry you all had to see that. I assure you that everything will be taken care of.”

She looked around, meeting the eyes of every staff member and client. “We’re here to provide the best service possible, and I promise that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

Jane shifted closer and tipped her head next to Brynlee. “I have a spare shirt in my locker.”

Brynlee shot her a grateful smile and nodded, then inched her chin up as she glanced around the salon. As she turned to leave, Mrs. Hughes broke the silence.

“Brynlee dear, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?”

She smiled at the older woman, grateful for her easy acceptance. “Absolutely.”

Just like that, the salon gradually buzzed back to life. As Brynlee headed toward the break room, a mixture of relief and lingering unease roiled in her stomach, but she knew she had made the right choice.