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First thing in the morning—just five minutes after opening, two Juvey-cops come into the salon, and Risa’s heart nearly stops. Audrey’s already there, but none of her stylists are. Risa, knowing that turning and running will not go over well, hangs her hair in her face and turns her back to them, pretending to stock one of the stylist’s stations.
“You open for business?” one of them asks.
“That depends,” says Audrey. “What can I do for you, Officer?”
“It’s my partner’s birthday. I’m giving her a makeover.”
Now Risa dares to look. One of the Juvies is a woman. Neither of them takes much notice of her.
“Perhaps you could come back when my stylists arrive.”
He shakes his head. “Shift starts in an hour. Gotta do it now.”
“Well, I guess we’ll have to work with that, then.” Audrey comes over to Risa, speaking sotto voce. “Here’s some money; go get us doughnuts. Go out the back way and don’t come back until they’re gone.”
“No,” Risa says, not realizing she would say it until she does. “I want to do her shampoo.”
The Juvie doesn’t have a dog on her lap, but she does have a chip on her shoulder. “I don’t go for nothing foo-foo,” she says. “Just keep it simple.”
“I intend to.” Risa drapes her with a smock and leans her back toward the sink. She turns on the water, making sure it’s nice and hot.
“I’d like to personally thank you,” Risa says. “For keeping the streets safe from all those bad boys and girls.”
“Safe and clean,” says the Juvey-cop. “Safe and clean.”
Risa glances out to the waiting area, where her partner obliviously reads a magazine. Audrey peers in at Risa nervously, wondering what she’s up to. With this woman leaning her head back, totally at Risa’s mercy, Risa feels like the Demon Barber of Omaha, ready to slit her throat and bake her into pies. But instead she just dribbles shampoo into the corners of her closed eyes.
“Ah! That stings.”
“Sorry. Just keep your eyes closed. You’ll be fine.”
Risa then proceeds to wash her hair with water so hot she can barely stand it herself, but the woman doesn’t complain.
“Catch any AWOLs yesterday?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Usually we just patrol the detention facility, but a kid slated for unwinding went AWOL on our watch. We brought him down, though. Tranq’d him from fifty feet.”
“My, that must have been . . . thrilling.” It’s all Risa can do not to strangle her. Instead she opts for concentrated bleaching solution, rubbing it unevenly into her dark hair after rinsing out the shampoo. That’s when Audrey intercedes, a moment too late to stop her.
“Darlene! What are you doing?” Darlene is Risa’s salon pseudonym. Not her choice, but it works.
“Nothing,” she says innocently. “I just put in some conditioner.”
“That wasn’t conditioner.”
“Oops.”
The Juvie tries to open her eyes, but they still sting too much. “Oops? What kind of Oops?”
“It’s nothing,” Audrey says. “Why don’t I take over from here?”
Risa snaps off her gloves and drops them in the trash. “Guess I’ll go get those doughnuts now.” And she’s gone just as the woman begins to complain about her scalp burning.
• • •
“What were you thinking?”
Risa doesn’t try to explain herself to Audrey, and she knows Audrey really doesn’t expect her to. It’s a motherly question though, and Risa actually appreciates it.
