Page 9 of Falling Stars

“Yes, sir.”

“Alzheimer’s a damn tough thing to deal with.”

It’s the reason my mom’s afraid to moveAbuelohere. Changes in his surroundings upset him, which is why I’ve taken over the salon.

Leaning over, Sheriff Reynolds crouches into the backcorner of the salon and holds up a softball-sized rock. “I think this was the culprit.”

It’s white and has the word ‘WHORE’ written on it with red paint.

My eye twitches, and I press my palm into my socket. “Sheriff, I don’t really date much, but I would totally own up to it if I was banging all the bros in town.”

“You’ve always had a way with words, Baylee.” With a quirk of his mustache, he pats my shoulder. “Have you had any other trouble?”

Aside from getting my tires slashed this spring? I blow out a breath. “Someone kicked over my trash cans last week, but that could’ve been a raccoon.”

Rubbing his scruffy chin, he sighs. “What about the ladies at Darling Divas? Have y’all had any more words?”

That’s our rival hair salon. At the thought of those bitches, I growl. “Estelle Dutton called my mom an old hag and said she was glad she finally retired.”

He shakes his head. “That woman has no class.”

“Agreed, but as much as I dislike her, I can’t imagine she’d resort to throwing rocks in my window.”

“Unless this is all tied to the Walker and McAllister beef.”

I hear what he’s saying. Even though I rarely speak to Maverick anymore, everyone assumes we’re still best friends. Plus, Paige married his older brother Rhett last summer, and I’m her ride-or-die. And people in this town know which establishments are loyal to the Walkers and which are loyal to the McAllisters. I’m squarely in the Walker camp.

I wince. “I did start cutting Honey McAllister’s hair.”

“You done stole a customer, you little thief,” he teases before his tone grows serious again. “I was hoping that whole thing would die out.”

I lift a disbelieving brow. “Do any beefs in this town ever die out?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Maverick’s family has been at odds with the McAllisters for, what, over a century? It’s going to take more than a few quiet years where they don’t try to drive each other off the road to bury the hatchet.” Those two families have hated each other since the town was founded. Our town is split in the middle, and many a bar brawl has its origins in that feud. “And as much as I’m sure Estelle has a bee in her britches because of Honey, I don’t think she’d resort to vandalism. Nasty gossip, sure. Pettiness? Absolutely. But this?” I look at my shattered window. “This feels more personal.”

“You may be right.”

Vera stops in the doorway. “What the hell? Are you serious?”

I wave her in. “I think Rory got all the glass on the floor, but I should probably mop.”

Sheriff Reynolds tips his hat at me again. “I’ll be in touch if I have any news.”

I nod, but I’m not holding my breath. I love the man like a grandfather, but his “law enforcement” seems to consist of warming the seat at our local coffee shops.

Vera rushes to my side. “Shouldn’t you be halfway done with Miss Rosie’s hair by now? What time do you and Rory need to leave for Dallas?”

My stomach pitches at the thought of what I have to do this afternoon.Don’t hurl, Baylee. You don’t have time.I’m styling a bridal party this weekend, but I’m also hoping to stop by and surprise my boyfriend.

Sean and I have a lot to talk about.

“Could you do me a favor and wipe down the counters and chairs? I’d hate for someone to get glass in their ass.”

“I’m on it.”

Fortunately, a neighboring shop is doing some construction, and they let me buy a large piece of plywood. I drag it down the alley, take it through the store, and lean it against the front of my salon. Then I lug a chair to the sidewalk. With a roll of duct tape on my arm, I clamber on top of the chair. It wobbles, and I gasp, grabbing hold of the brick wall and barely avoiding the jagged edge of the window.

---