For My Brother by John C. Dalglish

the hair dryers.”
    “Of course, dear.”
    Suzanne carried the bunched-up smock around the elderly woman, as they made their way to the dryer chair. When Mrs. Harkin was settled into place, Suzanne lowered the helmet over her head, and set the timer for fifteen minutes. “I’ll be back to get you in a bit.”
    Mrs. Harkin smiled at her and opened a People magazine.
    As Suzanne walked back to her chair, she saw a young man get out of a gray Subaru, come in, and stop at the desk. She didn’t recognize him. “Can I help you?”
    He was average height and build, with black hair that didn’t look like it needed to be cut.
    “Yes, I need a haircut. Do you have an opening?”
    “Let me see who’s not busy.”
    “No. I want you to cut my hair.”
    “Oh. Well, I have about fifteen minutes. I guess I can squeeze you in.”
    “Great!”
    He smiled at her, and Suzanne felt there was something vaguely familiar about him. He came around the desk, and she wrapped a smock around him as he settled into her chair. “Do I know you?”
    “No. A friend of mine, Chelsea Morris, said you were the best.”
    Suzanne couldn’t place the name, but she had people walk in and get haircuts all the time.
    “I guess I don’t remember the name. You don’t look like you need much of a haircut. What did you want done?”
    “Oh, just thin it some, trim the sideburns, and tidy up the neckline. I hate when things aren’t tidy.”
    Suzanne couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay…tidy up, it is. What’s your name?”
    “Donnie.”
    “Nice to meet you, Donnie.”
    Within ten minutes she was done, and he examined himself in the mirror.
    “Do you have a straight razor?”
    “I don’t, but Silvia does. Why?”
    “I like to get the thin hair below the sideburns.”
    “Okay. Sit tight. I’ll borrow hers.”
    She went two stations down and returned with the blade. She ran it below his sideburns, brushed off the clippings, and removed the smock as he stood up.
    “How much?”
    “Twelve dollars.”
    He gave her two twenties.
    “Keep it.”
    “Thanks! That’s very generous.”
    “It’s my pleasure. After all, you squeezed me in.”
    He smiled, turned, and left.
    Suzanne just stared after him.
    That was odd. I need to look in my address book for a Chelsea Morris.
    The timer went off, and she went to get Mrs. Harkin, putting the stranger out of her thoughts.
     
    *******
     
    The detectives parked out front of Daylight Donuts, and a waitress with Trudi on her nametag met them at the door.
    “Two?”
    Jason smiled at the small redhead. She had green eyes and a bright smile.
    “Are you Trudi Fulton?”
    Her smile disappeared.
    “Yes.”
    “My name is Detective Strong and this is my partner, Detective Jefferson.”
    He showed her his ID.
    “Is this about Chelsea?”
    “Yes. Do you have time for a few questions?”
    “Sure. Let me tell Gloria.”
    She crossed to the back of the restaurant, spoke to the other waitress, and returned. Guiding them to a table near the door, she sat across from the two detectives.
    Jason looked into her eyes. He sensed fear lingering, and knew it would probably be there for a while.
    “You doing okay, Trudi?”
    “I’m making it. Work both helps and hurts. I’m glad to be busy, but then it’s hard when someone like Mr. Perkins comes in.”
    “Mr. Perkins?”
    “He’s an elderly widower who doesn’t like anyone but Chelsea to wait on him. He’s taking it hard.”
    “Is there anyone else who seemed overly interested in Chelsea? Maybe pestered her or she mentioned she was afraid of?”
    “Nobody. She seemed happy and worry free.”
    “The last time you saw her was when she clocked out the other day?”
    “Yeah. We worked opposite shifts, and I was just coming in.”
    Nina, who was taking notes, looked up.
    “Where do you park?”
    “In back. There’s a gravel lot for employees.”
    “And you didn’t notice anything unusual that day?”
    “No. Well, now that I think about it, there was one