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

until they got their money from Nick Martin, right?”
    “I’m not sure,” Bill said, his voice muffled, his face pointed at the floor. “None of us on City Council are confident. Nick is hopeful, obviously, but the rest of us aren’t holding our breaths. That briefing this morning was depressing. Ransom call is today.”
    “Two calls?” Chuck said.
    “First call was yesterday, to let the mom know the girls were alive, though they didn’t let Glenda talk to the girls,” Bill said. “Next call is today. Supposed to get the ransom demands.”
    Frank nodded and went back to his magazine.
    “Don’t matter,” Willie said. “They still ain’t gonna find them girls.”
    “Nick is a mess,” Bill said. “It’ll ruin him. His marriage was already shaky enough, and now—”
    “What?” Willie interrupted. “I didn’t hear about anything.”
    Bill nodded his head. Willie was just finishing up with the razor on the neckline, so he paused the trimming until Bill’s head stopped moving.
    “They’ve been having a lot of money problems,” Bill said. “From what I hear. Before this. Now it’ll just be worse.”
    The others simply nodded. To Frank, it sounded like this Nick Martin person was having a tough month.
    Willie pulled the barber cloth from Bill and shook it out. Bill stood and regarded his hair in the mirror, touching it with his hands. The man then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of money, peeling off a crisp $20 bill.
    “That’s too much,” Willie said.
    Bill shook his head.
    “You’re worth it,” Bill said. “Always are. You take care, Willie.”
    “You take care, Mayor,” Willie said, repeating it back to him with a smile.
    Bill left, shaking hands with the other men in the waiting area, glad-handing and smiling at each of them, except for one young kid who had his head buried in his hands. The Mayor even stopped and shook Frank’s hand. The guy was clearly a glad-handing politician, perpetually running for office. Someone used to smiling and nodding and working behind the scenes to get his way. The little bell rang on his way out.
    Willie took a minute, beating at the barber chair with a towel and sweeping up the hair on the floor around it. When he was done cleaning, he turned and nodded at Frank.
    “Your turn, son.”
    Frank glanced at the others waiting, but they shook their heads.
    “Don’t worry ‘bout them,” Willie said to Frank. “They waiting for Chuck.”
    Chuck smiled. He was missing several teeth.
    “Yup,” Chuck said. “Gotta love those loyal customers, right?”
    Willie scowled and shot him a look as Frank settled into the empty barber chair. Willie tied the barber cloth around Frank’s neck.
    “What we doin’ today?” Willie asked.
    “Needs to be tidy,” Frank said curtly. “Short on top. Trim it above the ears and along the hairline in the back.”
    Willie nodded, clearly sensing there would be little or no small talk. He got to work trimming Frank’s hair, occasionally squirting with a spray bottle to get the hair to lie flat. After a few minutes, Willie settled into a quiet routine.
    “So, you from around here?” Willie asked Frank.
    “No,” Frank said.
    Again, Frank heard the silence hanging there and knew he was supposed to fill it. He practiced his patience, concentrating on the clicking scissors working to tidy him up.
    “Where you from?” Willie asked after a long, quiet minute.
    Frank sighed.
    “Just up from Birmingham for a couple days.”
    Willie nodded.
    “Oh, Alabama. Nice down there?”
    “Yeah, I guess,” Frank said. He didn’t volunteer anything, and after a long pause, Willie nodded again and set in to cutting. Frank guessed that maybe he’d given up trying to chit chat with Frank.
    “They’re not gonna find those girls,” Chuck said, starting the other conversation back up again. From this angle, Frank could see more tattoos on the back of Chuck’s neck, running up into the hair. Jail tattoos, roughly