Read Online A Field of Red by Greg Enslen - Free Book Online

started up again mid-stream.
    “But that’s what I’m saying, Willie,” the customer in the left chair said to the older barber. “It’s just not right.”
    Willie nodded, continuing to trim. He didn’t answer for a moment. The only sound was the scissors chopping at the customer’s thinning hair.
    “I know, Bill. I know,” Willie said finally. “Whoever is doing this, they must hate the Martins, or want something out of ‘em. But we got good cops in this town. They’ll figure it out.”
    The man in the chair, Bill, laughed, a short squeaky bark that sounded almost like a seal.
    “Not likely,” Bill said. “I’ve been in all the meetings. Chief King came before the City Council and updated us Friday night at that emergency meeting. These cops are in over their head. He sat right there and said ‘Mayor, we’ve never had a kidnapping,’ like that explains everything.”
    The other barber spoke up. His nametag read “Chuck.” He was a younger man, white, both of his arms and the back of his neck heavily tattooed. Frank knew immediately that Chuck was an ex-con. But working here, working under Willie, it looked like the guy was trying to go straight.
    “I don’t know about that—these cops can dog you,” Chuck said. “I should know. They don’t ever stop watching. And didn’t Chief King help on a kidnapping case ‘couple years back down in Dayton?”
    Willie shook his head. “Don’t remember that.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” Bill said. “He did help out, but he wasn’t the lead. No one knows what they’re doing. That’s why they called in that idiot from the Cincinnati FBI. But he’s just a kid, and he’s just made things worse. Anyway, they ain’t gonna find those girls. Been too long.”
    “Six days?” Willie asked?
    “Seven, counting today,” Bill answered, nodding at a calendar on the wall from some place called Maple Hill Nurseries. “Girls went missing last week, Monday. Like I said, Chief King is optimistic. But I can read people. And I heard somewhere they almost never find them when they’re gone that long.”
    It got quiet in the barber shop. Frank guessed that, along with him, everyone in the shop was listening to the conversation. It was a conversation Frank had heard, and been involved in, a hundred times before. He tried to block it out—it wasn’t any of his business.
    Chuck, the younger barber, finished up his customer, and the young man stood up out of the chair, thanking him and paying. The ex-con nodded and waived over one of the other men sitting next to Frank. The new customer sat down in the empty chair, using his hands and quietly describing what kind of cut he wanted. Chuck nodded and got started, then looked up at the others.
    “So the FBI, they’re not going to be any help?”
    “Doesn’t look like it,” Bill said, shaking his head. With the movement of Bill’s head, Willie pulled the scissors away and waited for his customer to stop moving before starting again. “The kid is wet behind the ears—that tells me Cincinnati doesn’t think there’s much that can be done. Or else they would have sent somebody who knew what the hell they were doing, not some fool who’s only been on five or six cases,” Bill said. Frank could see the man was angry. “Anyway, sounds like they’re working on the phone call. The kidnappers finally called yesterday to set up another call.”
    Frank looked up, intrigued. It was odd to have the kidnappers wait that long before making initial contact. Usually, you heard from them in the first 48 hours. Or there were no kidnappers. Or the victims were already dead.
    Willie shook his head.
    “Ain’t gonna matter now,” Willie said, grimacing. He had Bill leaning his head forward, trimming the short hairs on the back of his neck. “I hate to say it, but it’s gotta be true. Been too long.”
    “I don’t know—why would the kidnappers call?” Chuck asked. “They want money, so they’d keep the girls around, at least