Point of Attraction (2 page)

Mason adjusted his cap by the bill,
almost in a salute greeting, then took his place beside them as
they made their way up the long wide steps to the rows of
classrooms. Georgie had to crane her neck to look up into his face.
Mason had to be at least six foot three, which only emphasized her
own five-foot one.

“That was some love scene you submitted
last week,” he said.

“Guys,” Georgie defended against the
typical attitude toward a scene involving sex. Sure, the jibes were
all in good humor, but she still felt the need to fight for the
whole of her work. “There was so much more to the chapter than the
love scene. Is this what I’m going to hear from the rest of the
class?”

“I know it’s only three classes into
September, but in case you hadn’t noticed,” Cassie said, “the guys
outnumber us girls this term. So, yeah, I think you will hear more
about the love scene than the rest of the chapter.”

“Ouch. Testosterone takes a hit,” Mason
said, his face scrunching up, then smiling. “The whole thing was
good, George, couple of typos, but good. Hope when the time comes
for Fletcher to hit the sack, I can write him a scene as
worthy.”

“Maybe you two can work on it,” Cassie
slipped in with a subtle nudge at Georgie.

Georgie felt molten lava
cover her, and she hoped Mason hadn’t seen the nudge. Cassie was
getting into her little matchmaker persona, and if Georgie didn’t
bring it to a stop there would be no end to it. But right now, all
she could do was stare straight ahead of her, very much aware of
the satisfied grin on Cassie’s face. She was afraid to see what
reaction Mason might have over the remark. Lord keep her from all
the matchmakers in her life. Hadn’t Cassie noticed he was wearing a
wedding ring? If ever there was a person who needed a good smack of
reality, it was her
dear
friend.

“You know, that’s an excellent idea,”
Mason said, seeming to have missed the innuendo. “I know police
work. But I need the rough edges of old Fletch rounded out a bit
when the time comes.”

Something in Mason’s voice caught
Georgie’s attention, then she realized what it was. Excitement.
That surge brought on by the need to be able to talk to someone
about his work. Didn’t his wife read his writing? Comment on it?
Sam always did that for her. Cassie had April. It was sad to think
Mason’s wife couldn’t appreciate the talent in the man or want to
be part of it.

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t
think of what to say, then decided saying nothing was the best
route. This was an area scattered with fragile, yet sharp, glass
that could cut deeply, painfully.

Her cell phone went off, and she dug
under her hat in her coat pocket to fish it out. “This is
Georgina.”

“Georgie, she’s gone!” Emmee’s voice
shook into Georgie’s ear, the words running into each other. “We
looked and looked. We can’t find her.”

“Emmee, slow down. Take a
breath.”

There was a long deep gasp.

“Who’s gone?” Georgie asked.

“Raggs! She’s gone. Someone took
her.”

Chapter two

Georgie turned slightly to get better
reception on her cell phone. “Emmee, slow down. Are you and Brandy
okay?”

“What’s going on?” Cassie
asked.

Georgie shook her head, motioned Cassie
off, and stepped away while trying to keep out of the path of other
students rushing to their classes. “Emmee, slowly. Take another
breath. Are you and Brandy okay?”

“Yeah, but...”

“Okay. Was it a robbery? Did someone
come in? What?”

“No. Brandy was making change for a
walk-in haircut when she realized Raggs was gone.”

“Is there money missing?” Georgie
asked.

“No. We looked all over for her. She’s
gone. It must have happened when we were both in the back at the
shampoo bowls.”

“Was Nick in? You know how he likes to
move her around.”

“No. Should we call the police?” Emmee
asked.

“You’re certain there’s nothing else
missing?”

“Not that we can see. The drawer hasn’t
been tampered with. All the money’s accounted for. Just Raggs is
missing.”

“Don’t call the police then,” Georgie
said, and even as she began to form the words they choked her,
“Raggs would probably not be on their priority list.”

“Georgie. I’m so sorry. We should have
been more alert...”

“How could you have known. You guys be
careful when you go to your cars. I’ll see you in the
morning.”

When Georgie flip-shut her phone, she
struggled to hold back her tears, but they burned hot in the cold
night. Her first thought was to go search for Raggs. There would be
other classes, but she only had one Raggs.

“What happened?” Cassie
asked.

“Raggs is missing.”

“What?”

“Who’s Raggs?” Mason asked. “And why
not call the police?”

Georgie let out a deep sigh and said,
“Missing: one very old Raggedy Ann doll called Raggs. Somehow I
can’t see the police putting out an Amber Alert or APB.” It hurt to
keep her voice level and it was an effort to stay calm.

“Oh, Georgie,” Cassie said. “Raggs’s
been with you since... since...”

“For a long time,” was all Georgie
could say.

“Where did this happen?” Mason asked.
“In your home? That’s breakin’ and entry.”

Georgie tried to answer, but held
back.

“No,” Cassie said, patting and
smoothing Georgie’s shoulder. “She keeps... kept... Raggs at her
shop.”

“Still breakin’ and entry.”

“They uh... didn’t break in,” Georgie
said. When her voice shook, she paused, cleared her throat, and
added, “The shop was open.”

“It’s still a crime,” he
stressed.

“She’s just a doll, I know...” Georgie
reflected on her words, found them so disloyal to her Raggs she had
to stop. How could she explain? Being an only child, Raggs became
that missing sibling on countless occasions when she was alone in
her room. Even though she lived between Nick and Cassie, there were
times when neither of them were around, but there was always
Raggs.

“George, listen,” Mason
said. “You know I’m a cop. So I know what I’m talking about. This
Raggs might be just a doll, but it’s a theft. Even if your place of
business was open, it’s still a theft. Someone walked into your
shop and walked out with something they shouldn’t. While it may not
be an emergency, it
is
a crime. Call the police first thing in the morning and make
a report.”

Georgie knew she should be listening,
but she was confused by the puzzle of it. Why take Raggs? As usual,
she had taken the cash receipts to the bank before it became too
tempting an amount. So there was just enough in the till to run the
shop for the evening; enough to satisfy a thief so he would,
hopefully, not harm whoever was working at the time. Yet only Raggs
had been taken.

“George, tell me you will call this in.
George?”

Mason’s voice finally broke through
Georgie’s jumbled reflections, and she nodded, not trusting herself
to speak. She knew her long self-imposed routine: hold back your
grief, keep it inside, at least until you were alone in your room
and your head lay on your pillow. She did it through her mom’s
illness and death, her dad’s heart attack and death, and then her
beloved husband Sam. Now Raggs. Keep it inside, Georgie.

“All right, guys. Class is on,” someone
called out from the door.

The three of them looked up at the
summons, but said nothing nor moved. Georgie felt Mason and
Cassie’s eyes, the question left unspoken, until Cassie’s arm
draped her shoulders to pull her in, as she always did, with a
tight and quick hug.

“Are you up to it?” Cassie asked,
giving her another squeeze. “We could go home. No
biggie.”

It was all Georgie could do to swallow
and say, “What could I do if I were home?”

“Point taken. Come on then. Class it
is.”

~~0~~

During class break, the group split up
into their smaller clusters among the other students of the
Community College; those sitting on the courtyard benches smoking,
others choosing the indoor tables. They all snacked on the
cafeteria’s offerings while the writers discussed the evening’s
chapters already critiqued and those yet to be gone
over.

At an inside table, Georgie tried to
focus on the remarks given on her chapter and the inserted notes on
the pages, but couldn’t. When she sipped on her coffee to moisten
the dry cookie in her mouth, there was no taste. Should she tell
Steven and Paula about Raggs, she wondered? Then thought how silly
that would be. Paula had her law books to hit while carrying the
first grandchild in the family, and Steven had his schoolwork.
Med-school was no easy thing.

“Is it okay if I sit?” Mason
asked.

“Sure,” Cassie answered, also arriving
with her own cup of coffee.

“George?”

“What?” She looked up at them. It took
a second for her to grasp what Mason was asking. “Oh. Yeah.
Sure.”

Taking off his cap and setting it on
the table, he then sat next to her. “Have you heard anything more?”
He ran a hand over his hair that Georgie noticed was an attractive
one-level color up from black.

Georgie shook her head. “I told the
girls to go home. We’ll look for her in the morning.”

“I gather Raggs has been with you a
while,” he said.

Cassie reached over and Georgie smiled,
squeezed her friend’s comforting hand with a deep breath and
sigh.

“A very long while,” Georgie said,
avoiding Mason’s inquiring gaze, and shrugged, but the weight of
loss would not be shed so easily. Two students walked in from the
courtyard. A gust of chilled evening wind swept the room, carrying
with it traces of their nicotine habit.

Cassie’s cell phone went off and she
excused herself. Georgie kept her focus on her cuticles, but her
thoughts would not abandon her Raggs.

Mason lowered his head slightly and
finally managed eye contact. And just as Georgie feared, the soft
gray hue of those eyes did a number on her. If she had killed
someone, she would have confessed on the spot, and she began her
tale.

“When my mom found out she
had ovarian cancer she made this doll for me; to take care of me,
she said.” Georgie struggled with the rising sadness causing her
voice to quiver and tears to well.
Keep it
inside, Georgie
. And she forced them back.
“She... uh... she knew she was going to die, and said if ever I
needed her or wanted to talk to her, I could just talk to Raggs,
and she would hear me. Raggs would be our connection. I was...” The
lump in her throat choked her and her voice broke, forcing her to
clear her throat before going on. “I was eight. She died a year
later.”

Mason’s fingers moved and Georgie
thought he was about to reach for her hand, but Cassie came back to
the table. She was tying up her shoulder length deep carrot-red
hair, then picked up her notebook. “Well, that was one of my
patients. She’s in labor... no messing around this time. I have to
go to the hospital. Georgie, can you drive me? Then you can take
the car, leave it at the shop. April will come get me when I finish
with the delivery. We can pick it up then.”

Georgie nodded. “Sure thing.” And she
too began to gather her class work.

“You know, I could take you home,”
Mason offered, his large hand draping over hers.

Georgie froze.

It had been three years since the touch
of a man gave her the comfort of strength and promise of
protection. It was a struggle not to draw back her hand for no
better reason than just how much she liked the warmth of his touch.
“No. I’m fine, really. Cassie and I have done this
before.”

“Oh, yeah. OB/GYNs have no lives. But
you know, that’s not a bad idea, M&M taking you
home.”

“M&M? Is that what you two call
me?” Mason asked.

They laughed.

“No. I call you BADGE 747,” Georgie
admitted.

“At least you’re smiling,” he said,
giving her hand a squeeze, and Georgie could swear the gray of his
eyes deepened in color. “But seriously, I can take you home. Not a
problem.”

The glint off his wedding ring stabbed
Georgie and she bit her lip in punishment for enjoying the little
flip her heart took at his offer. She slowly slipped her hand clear
of his, and a shadow passed over his face as his smile lost its
light. The wife, she thought, of course. An awkward pause hovered
like stale cigarette smoke.

“Okay,” Cassie said, dropping her keys
on the table. “This silence is more pregnant than my patient in
labor.”