Angels Fall

shortening that hair—it draws down her face. Does she belong to you?"
    "In a way. Maybe I could show it around, even leave a copy of it here? Someone might recognize her." 
    "Absolutely. Nan!"
    The ever-efficient Nan zipped by, took the sketch. Reece refocused on herself long enough to blink.
    '"Wow. That's, ah, that's a lot of hair falling off my head."
    "Not to worry. Look at you! Gorgeous!" He stopped again to turn and admire the newly redheaded Linda-gail.
    "I  love  it!" She spun a circle, showing off the bold red in her sassy new cut. "I'm reinvented. What do you think? What do you think?" she demanded of Reece.
    "It's wonderful. It's really fabulous." The bold red turned her from pretty little blonde to hot, hip and happening. "Linda-gail, you look seriously amazing."
    "I hit up the makeup samplers." She peered around Reece to admire herself in the mirror. "And I do look amazing. When we get back, I'm going to track down Lo and make him suffer." She turned, angled her head. "I love the highlights, subtle but effective. And I think I see where Serge is going here. Your eyes look bigger—as it they needed to—and your face is more out there. Kudos on the bangs, Serge. Sexy."
    "Damn right, frame those gorgeous eyes. All that weight's off your shoulders, your neck. Still, nice, long layers. You'll find it easy to style yourself, I think."
    Reece stared at the picture emerging in the mirror.  I almost recognize that woman  , she thought.  I   almost see  me  again  .
    When her eyes filled, Serge lowered the scissors, glanced at Linda-gail with alarm. "She doesn't like it. You're upset. You don't like it."
    "No, no, I do like it. I do. It's been a long time since I looked in the mirror and saw something I did like."
    Linda-gail sniffled. "You need makeup samples."
    Serge patted Reece's shoulder. '"You're going to make me cry in a minute. At least let me blow it out first."

    SHE WANTED TO show off. She'd had the most fantastic day, and looked the part. Of course she shouldn't have let Linda-gail talk her into buying that shirt, even if it was the most delicious shade of yellow. Still, she'd given the salesclerk a copy of the sketch—as she had done in every store Linda-gail had dragged her into.
    And she'd been right, the leather jacket looked better on Reece. Though it wasn't quite a zillion dollars, it might as well have been. It was just as far out of her reach.
    A great haircut and a great new shirt were enough reward.
    She intended to go straight home, admire herself, put the new shirt on, spruce up. Then she'd call Brody and see if he was interested in coming over for dinner.

    She'd found some lovely field greens in a market in Jackson, and some nice diver-harvested scallops. And saffron, which she couldn't re-ally afford either, but it would be nice to make a saffron and basil puree for the scallops. Then the Brie and porcini for wild rice.
    While Linda-gail might have drooled over the boutiques, Reece had quivered with pleasure in the markets.
    She all but danced up the steps as she carted the bags to her apartment. Humming, she unlocked the door, and was so carefree she told herself she could wait until she'd put the bags on the counter to lock it again.
    "Gee, Reece, you're going to be a real girl again before you know it." She waltzed to the door, locked it. Then decided everything else could just wait until she'd taken another look at her happy self. She did pirouettes toward the bathroom just for the pleasure of feeling her shorter, lighter hair swing. And all the blood in her face drained, all the muscles in her body went saggy with shock as she stared at the mirror.
    The sketch was taped to it so that she stared at the face of a dead woman instead of her own. On the walls, the floor, the little vanity, written over and over again with red marker, bright as blood, was the single question.
    IS THIS ME?
    Shivering, she sank down in the doorway and curled into a ball.

    HAD TO BE home by now. Brody thought as he drove around the lake. How long did it take to have somebody whack at her hair anyway? She didn't answer the phone, and he felt ridiculous as he'd called four times in the last hour.
    Goddamn it, he'd missed her. And that was even more ridiculous. He never missed anyone. Besides that, she'd only been gone a few hours. Right and a half hours. Plenty of days went by without him seeing her for longer than that.
    But on those days, he knew she was right across the lake, that he could