The Leftovers

Crime Fiction

Source: https://www.concepthairmag.co.uk/five-barbers-winning-at-instagram-this-week/

Eric Barnes hardly recognized the man staring back at him. The reflection depicted a scruffy individual who’d worked long hours and completely forgotten about self-care. This made it easy to decide what to do with the remainder of his day— he was going to the barber shop.

Harry’s Cuts was a short walk away. So, knowing he could use the exercise, Eric took to the sidewalk.

A few minutes later he was stepping through a door that chimed his arrival. The shop was bustling with evening activity; busy hands working scissors, the buzzing of clippers, and the chaos of conversation.

A pretty brunette equipped with large hoop earrings and a bubbly personality added Eric’s name to a check-in sheet.

Five minutes later he was watching long strands of his hair fall to the floor as the clippers rounded his head into a nice buzz cut.

He tipped the gentleman $5 for a haircut he could have done at home, if only he owned a pair of clippers.

Tyson Dunn was excited when the middle-aged man with long hair and a scruffy face sat in his chair. He always loved a project.

That excitement quickly faded when the gentleman asked for a buzz cut. Where was the fun in that? Who pays someone for a haircut they could perform themselves?

At least the man tipped well, handing over an extra $5 for him to pocket.

At home, staring into a foggy mirror — long overdue for a clean — Eric shaved away his facial hair. That was one thing he felt comfortable doing himself.

Then he washed away the residual hair in a hot shower, finished, threw on a half-decent outfit and was about to head back out — to eat a late dinner at the steakhouse on the corner — when his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

He answered without hesitation, “Hello, Detective Barnes speaking.”

Harry’s Cuts died down as the day did. Tyson was finishing up with the last customer when he told Harry he’d close up for him, “Go ahead boss. Go home to your wife and kids. I got this.”

Harry thanked Tyson and left without another thought about his shop. Tyson finished up with his customer and locked the door. He pulled out a broom from the backroom and swept up small piles of hair on the floor.

He threw most of it away, but not all of it.

The employees had lockers in the back. Tyson twisted the combination lock until he heard a click. He swung open the door to his locker and pulled out a large mason jar. The jar was filled with a variety of hair — all different size strands and colors. A collection, yet so much more.

With a devilish smile Tyson dropped the new hairs into the jar.

Without time for a midnight steak, Detective Eric Barnes drove to the crime scene on an empty stomach. Which, after arriving, he realized was probably for the best.

The victim, a twenty-four year old female named Natasha Hughes, was naked and laying on the bed in a contorted manner. Her body was freshly bruised and she had dark ligature marks on her neck.

Eric gloved up and approached the body for a closer examination. The first thing he noticed was the lamp on the nightstand. It had been unplugged and the cord hung on the opposite side of the nightstand, away from the outlet.

He picked up the lamp and held the long cord next to Natasha’s neck. The width of the cord matched up perfectly with the dark ligature marks. He’d found the murder weapon.

He was about to set the lamp back down when he noticed something else.

A long, light brown hair sticking out from the small crease in the cord. A light brown hair. Natasha’s hair was a solid black.

With a steady hand he slipped the hair into a small evidence bag.

The woman stared up at Tyson with empty eyes. Lifeless eyes. He couldn’t believe how trusting these women were.

A simple conversation at the bar after work and an hour later he was being invited up for a nightcap. Nine times out of ten, this is how it played out. It was his routine. Different bar each night, but nearly always the same scenario.

With the deed done, Tyson pulled out his mason jar filled with hair. He fingered through the collection with a gloved hand until he found the perfect strand. Delicately, he placed it in a spot the police would be sure to find.

He wasn’t sure when the idea came to him, but this had been his method for years. His way of throwing the police off his scent.

It was early morning when the eagerly awaited call arrived.

Detective Barnes was dead asleep when the loud buzzing on his nightstand woke him. Immediately his brain fired up and he knew who was calling.

It was the lab with the DNA results.

Without a formal greeting, Detective Barnes blurted, “What did you find? Who’s DNA did we pull from the hair?!?”

There was a moment of silence before the voice on the other end of the line answered, “Yours Detective. It was your hair found at the crime scene.”

The bag weighed heavy on Tyson’s shoulder as he made his way through airport security.

He didn’t know why, but a gut feeling told him it was time to go. He never stayed in one location for very long. His diversion method with the hairs was good, but being mobile was a necessary precaution.

Plus, he could find a new job doing hair anywhere in the world. It was always fun finding a new place to start a hair collection.

Detective Barnes's head felt foggy, none of it made sense… How could his hair be at the crime scene? He’d just buzzed it and that strand was long… Hell, he was the one who found the hair and he’d sent it in himself.

Something was there in his thoughts, some sort of explanation, floating around like two boats at sea trying to connect but being intercepted by large waves. He just couldn’t make sense of it.

Two loud knocks brought him out of his thoughts. Someone was at his door. He peeked through the peephole and saw his boss, the chief of police and his partner—Detective Flores.

Immediately he knew why they were there. The lab must have called them first. He was being arrested for the murder of Natasha Hughes.