Free A Minute on the Lips by Cheryl Harper Page B

rang over the door to the Hair Port, that conversation started as it always did.
    “Morning, Sheriff. It’s good to see you.”
    Andi nodded.
    “Are we gonna make any changes this time?” Lynn asked.
    Andi could understand Lynn’s total lack of hope when she asked that question. Today, Andi glanced around the shop to assess the crowd. It was a pretty light day so far, but things changed quickly at the Hair Port. As the only shop on the courthouse square, Lynn and the other three stylists got a lot of walk-in traffic. Normally that made Andi happy. Good business meant that Lynn would stay here and keep notes on her color mix. Now Andi wanted the smallest crowd she could get as she said, “Let’s do something different today, Lynn.”
    Crickets aren’t a normal sound in the middle of town, but if there’d been any around, they would have had a nice little concert. There was absolute silence in the Hair Port, as though all the humans in the room were collectively holding their breath and the air-conditioning was waiting for the okay to run. Andi glanced around self-consciously.
    The Hair Port went for a minimalistic style. Everything was white. White walls, white floors, white furniture, white uniforms and white drapes on the customers might make a person wonder if this was what beauty shops in heaven look like.
    Lynn shot a quick look at the other stylists and held out her hand. “Well, now. That I did not expect.” She patted her chair. “Just what did you have in mind, Sheriff?”
    Andi cleared her throat and slunk across the floor to hunker down in the seat. Her shoulders rose protectively to hover around her ears, but she’d already started this. “Well, I don’t want to change the color.”
    Lynn nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. It’s a pretty good color for you, maybe just a bit redder than your normal brown but not enough so people think you’re channeling Lucille Ball.” She pulled the rubber band out of Andi’s hair, and the heavy weight spread across her shoulders and down the middle of her back.
    Lynn turned Andi to look into the mirror as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Lots of curl. We could go short and get some really pretty ringlets going, Sheriff.”
    Andi shook her head slightly. “I don’t want to lose the ability to pull it back. I can imagine the trouble I’d have with the old codgers on the square if I looked like a fluffy girl.”
    She looked at the curls balanced precariously and beautifully on Lynn’s head and wondered what it would be like to have that much control over her hair. Lynn smiled and said, “Sometimes it’s good to be a fluffy girl, Sheriff.”
    Any sign of softness would be seen as weakness by Ray Evans. And even in Atlanta, far from this town and before elections, Andi had difficulty with softness. She’d spent a lot of time pretending she was in control. She had kept most relationships perfectly cordial and businesslike and performed every task she was given well enough to leave no room for criticism. Both really helped her in the FBI, an organization that appreciated no-nonsense hair. Andi sighed. “Yeah, I think I might like it, too, but let’s go somewhere in the middle. Can you do that?”
    Lynn nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I can do that. We’ll cut some of the length off, maybe put in some long layers so that when you want it to curl, it has nice body, and...what do you think about bangs this time around?”
    It was only hair, right? Lynn had asked about bangs every two months since they’d started working together. Maybe it was time to embrace the bangs. “All right. Let’s go for bangs.”
    Lynn and her stylists whooped as if she’d said, Remember the Alamo . Andi started to worry right then and there.
    A drape floated across her lap, and Lynn snapped it shut. She patted Andi on the shoulder as she said, “I’m going to go mix up your color. Want something to drink?”
    “Do you have tequila?” Andi muttered under her breath, but it