No Filter

by Heather Day Gilbert

  Barks & Beans was a grand experiment for both of us, and it simply had to work. Not because of the monetary investment Bo had made—he'd assured me he didn't lack for money after selling his Coffee Mass shares. No, it needed to work because neither of us could return to the lives we'd had before. We needed to blaze a new trail and follow it without looking back.

  5

  Bo and I decided to walk home, since the evening air had shed its humidity and carried a chilly promise of fall.

  I shrugged into my sweater. "Dylan seems interesting."

  Bo turned to me, an unreadable expression on his face. "You like him." It wasn't a question.

  "I'm not sure. He just seemed eclectic somehow. And knowledgeable. Also nice."

  "He is knowledgeable, and he was very easy to work with. I didn't want to pay a lot for cafe artwork, but he caught my vision and steered me in the right direction."

  I nodded and fell silent. It was the magic hour in Lewisburg, that time when the birds were chirping, traffic was slowing, and a hazy yellow glow fell on everything. The cozy smells of burgers on the grill drifted from outdoor dining areas, making my stomach growl.

  Opening the gate to my back garden, I brushed into one of Auntie A's white rosebushes and got pricked. I took a closer look and realized one of the long stems had been broken since the time we left.

  "That's weird. The wind wasn't bad tonight," I said. "Did you break that stem earlier?"

  Bo shook his head. "Nope. I steer clear of those rosebushes. All those years of push mowing this yard taught me a thing or two."

  A strange misgiving seized me and I hurried up to the back door and unlocked it. Coal wasn't sitting on his pillow in the living room, so I gave a short whistle. Picking up on my unease, Bo walked down the hall to the wooden connecting door, unlocked it, and gave the cafe a once-over. I stood in the middle of my living room, waiting for Coal to come clattering over to me.

  Only he didn't.

  I scurried around, calling for Coal as I checked all the downstairs rooms. By the time Bo finished his perusal of the cafe, I had gone through my second story and was pounding back to the kitchen.

  "He's gone," I said, disbelieving.

  "Did he get out?" Bo glanced around. He walked into the living room, where I'd left a window open.

  My breath caught when I realized the screen had been shoved out.

  "He must've escaped this way," Bo said. "I'll go look for him."

  I trailed after my brother in a stunned daze, trying to understand why Coal, who had bonded with me so quickly, would've made a break for it. Had he been worried because I'd left him alone? Had he come looking for me? Or had he hoped to get back to Gerard's place?

  As I mechanically shouted for Coal and combed the back garden, another possibility jumped to mind. Although my back door had been locked, what if someone had climbed in through that window and taken Coal? It was a long shot, but Katie had seemed dead-set to get her hands on him. The screen was lying on the ground under the window, but it was in pristine condition. Wouldn't the frame have bent or the screen have been mangled if a Great Dane had thrown its weight into it?

  I explained my concern to Bo, so he slid the screen back onto the tracks to test my theory. I ran inside and shoved into it with all my might, and to my dismay, it did give in the middle and pop right out.

  "It's an old window, and the new screen doesn't fit entirely flush." Bo slid it into place once again and gave me an apologetic look. "It seems like Coal did make a break for it."

  Darkness had fallen by the time we had canvassed the whole neighborhood, and there was still no sign of Coal. While Bo fixed taco bowls for a hasty meal, I called Animal Control and reported Coal missing, just in case someone turned him in.

  After I'd reluctantly nibbled at my food, Bo gave me an apologetic hug and headed home, leaving me to wallow in my loneliness.

  I stayed up late, pulling the few pictures I had of Coal off my phone and designing missing dog flyers to distribute tomorrow. Coal had loved me instantly, so I refused to believe he'd run off. No, something else was going on.

  Kylie and Charity were equally distressed to learn my dog had gone missing. Kylie said she'd make sure to hand each customer a flyer, and Charity went outside and posted flyers at other businesses on our street.

  Summer barged in, trying to maneuver four dogs on leashes. She gave me a smile, then sobered as she saw my face.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "Bo and I went to a concert at Carnegie Hall last night, and while we were gone, Coal escaped out my window—at least I think he did." I twisted at the dishrag I'd been using to wipe down the coffee bar, even though it hadn't needed it. "I'm a little worried that someone stole him. We looked everywhere and he didn't show up."

  "Oh, Macy!" She walked the hyper dogs into the petting area and unleashed them. They promptly set to work sniffing each other, as well as their new environment.

  For once, I didn't even feel like being around dogs. Although I'd only owned Coal a short time, I'd already bonded with him. I missed my dog, and I wanted him back.

  Summer grabbed a handful of flyers. "I'll definitely put these up at the shelter. And I'll post them everywhere I go, too. Why do you think someone stole him?"

  I put my hand on my hip, suddenly remembering what Katie said on my doorstep. "I meant to talk to you about that. Did you tell that masseuse from Ivy Hill where I lived? Katie something-or-other?"

  "Oh, yeah, you're talking about the blonde, right? Katie Givens? She came in and said she had something she needed to tell the dog's new owner. I gave her your phone, but she made it sound like something urgent Gerard had been really nitpicky about as far as Coal's care, and she insisted on getting your address. Sorry about that. I meant to tell you she might drop by, but things were busy that day."

  I wanted to ream her out, but she gave me such a penitent look, all my irritation was defused. "It's okay; I probably would've done the same," I admitted. "It's just that she showed up acting like Coal should rightfully go to her, but Coal was growling and obviously disliked her. She was trying to convince me how tight she'd been with Gerard and his dog, but I wasn't buying it. It just seemed really suspicious, you know?"

  Bo walked in the front door, and like me, he was sporting dark circles under his eyes. "No luck finding the dog?" he asked.

  I shook my head, choking up a little. I could mask my emotions with other people, but my brother could see straight into my heart.

  Summer patted my back in a motherly way. "We'll find him," she promised. "I'll get the word out."

  Bo gave me a brief hug before walking behind the coffee counter. "How about a mocha, sis?"

  I nodded. Kylie shimmied aside, giving Bo space to brew our early morning java.

  Summer's side-angled purple ponytail bobbed as she glanced at her phone, then shot a covert glance at Bo under her dark lashes. "Well, I'd better get going." She rolled the flyers up in her hand and turned toward the door.

  Surprisingly, Bo responded directly to Summer. "See you later. I'll bring the dogs back to the shelter tonight." He turned back to me. "That will free you up to look for Coal if he's not home yet."

  I wished I could go out immediately, but I was going to do my part to keep this business running. Taking the mocha Bo offered, I blinked back my tears and trudged toward the dog petting area. It was going to be a long day.

  Just as I was about to head out for lunch, Kylie motioned me over to the counter. She gestured to a lanky guy who was waiting for his order at the end of the coffee bar. He was unconventional, to say the least, as the lower half of his head was shaved and the top sported a short Mohawk. His light brown clothes resembled a loose fitting potato sack.

  "This dude was wondering if he could advertise here for a class he's teaching," Kylie said. "Up at Ivy Hill. Bo's already on break, so I told him to ask you."

  I walked over to the man as Kylie turned back to her coffee prep. "Hi, I'm Macy Hatfield. Kylie said you were interested in ad
vertising here?"

  Instead of shaking my hand, his eyes met mine and he stared at me like he was lasering into my brain.

  "Could I help you?" I didn't relish any more drama today. He needed to get this show on the road so I could get back to my place and decompress a little.

  He gave a slight jolt. "Sorry, I'm one of those people who takes a minute to get a read on new acquaintances. My name's Jedi Ward—and yes, that is the name my mom gave me." He gave a chuckle and I smelled cigarette smoke on his breath. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to drop some papers here inviting people to my new class. It's a healing drumming class." He gave me a long look. "Maybe you'd like to come?"

  I accepted the papers he offered and glanced over them. "Healing drumming? What's that?"

  "Releases energy," he explained, taking the green smoothie Kylie handed him. "And it can help you access the next spiritual plane."

  That sounded like the last thing I wanted to do—I had enough problems to deal with in this plane. "Uh, sure. We can put these out." We needed to establish rapport with other local businesses, and maybe Ivy Hill would let us put up flyers at their place sometime.

  Jedi took a long sip of his green drink and nodded. "Great. The class starts at seven tonight, and the first one is free, if you decide you want to drop by." He peered at me closely. "If you don't mind my saying, I think it would help you relax. I can see the tension in your forehead."

  I did mind him saying—after all, who was to say he wasn't mistaking my first forehead wrinkles for tension?

  "Sure, I'll think about it," I lied. "Thanks for dropping in." I wheeled around and headed out the front door, since I didn't care to open the connecting door between my part of the house and the cafe. I liked keeping the curtain drawn on my own personal side of things.

  The first thing I saw as I pushed open my back door was Coal's pillow, sitting unused in its corner near the couch. I turned away and went into the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of Ramen, something quick and easy so I could look for my dog again. Had my new dog really left me? Or was he out there somewhere, scared and wondering why I hadn't come to get him?

  I hastily finished my noodles and walked outside. Examining the flowers closely, it seemed the only one that had been damaged was the rosebush, which was right next to the gate. The gate would've been easy enough for Coal to jump, but it seemed he would've crashed into more flowers on the way over.

  My eyes traveled to the dirt next to the gravel pathway. It was dry, but there were obvious marks where something had dug in and ripped into the flat surface. I was fairly certain we hadn't torn up the dirt when we moved the furniture in.

  The picture was becoming clearer for me. I was becoming more and more certain that someone had taken Coal—either by pulling him out the window or by enticing him with treats. They'd left the screen on the ground so I'd think the dog had escaped. Then they'd leashed him and walked him toward the back gate—where I was betting he'd dug in his heels and balked. They'd likely pulled on him, which caused him to dodge into the rosebush and snap a twig.

  Was it time to call the cops and not just Animal Control? Did cops actually intervene in dognappings, or did they just expect the owner to put up the missing flyers and try to find the dog on their own? Of course, they'd search local shelters, but Summer would tell me immediately if she heard Coal showed up. He wasn't an easy dog to miss.

  No, I needed to follow the trail myself, and I had a feeling I knew where it would lead. An opportunity had presented itself, and although healing drumming wasn't something I would have ever chosen to do, if it got me closer to Ivy Hill and to Katie, the possibly thieving masseuse, I'd do it.

  6

  I drove by several store windows and telephone poles plastered with my missing dog flyers on the way to Ivy Hill. There hadn't been a single call with a sighting of Coal. I'd even scoured Great Danes for sale on the internet to see if someone had posted him, but I'd come up empty there, too.

  I could've asked Bo to come along with me as backup, but he didn't really seem to buy my theory that Coal was dognapped. Maybe if I got some kind of proof that Coal was at Ivy Hill, Bo would come with me to my next class.

  As I pulled onto the grounds of the spiritual center, my attention veered to a small pond where abandoned police tape was flapping in the breeze. It had to mark the spot where Gerard was killed. I shuddered to think of someone committing such a bloody crime, but I could easily visualize it. Someone had likely come over to talk to Gerard about golf, maybe casually leaning on their golf club. Then perhaps they had picked up the club and toyed with it, then wham, brought it down full force on poor Gerard's head.

  After I rounded a wide curve, the spiritual center came into view. Both sides of the Tudor style house had been added onto, and now it seemed to sprawl like a dark bear crouching on the hilltop. The house appeared to have elbowed out all the trees, and the yard was bare except for the meticulous landscaping out front, which surrounded a gurgling fountain.

  I walked toward the oak front door, taking a final glance over my workout gear. I'd chosen my nicest pair of yoga pants and a shirt that boasted an expensive logo, hoping I looked like I belonged at the place.

  No overhead lights blazed inside the entryway—instead, battery-operated candles and twinkle lights cast a peaceful glow over the space. I felt my shoulders relax. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

  A teenager manned the front desk, so I asked her about joining the healing drumming class. She signed me up and pointed me down the long hallway.

  When I came across the door with a paper marked "Drums" in barely visible pink highlighter ink, I opened it and stepped inside. The atmosphere in the room was thick with incense and candle smoke, and a small circle of people sat on the floor, each holding drums. Jedi, who was barefoot and had combed his Mohawk down, padded across the thick carpet to me and handed me a drum as attendees created space for me.

  "You're welcome to remove your shoes." His voice was barely above a whisper. "We shall begin momentarily. I'm so glad you came, Macy."

  I pulled off my shoes while glancing at the people situated around me. They looked mostly middle aged, like me, although there was a white-haired couple who sat with their legs crossed, like they were pros at this gig. Maybe they'd already accessed a higher plane, because they seemed quite mellow with their eyes closed and their faces tilted upward.

  Jedi gently cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles, which made me cringe. Auntie A had always scolded us thoroughly when we cracked ours, swearing it would give us arthritis someday.

  He tapped lightly on the drum as he launched into a full-blown explanation of brainwaves. At his signal, we joined him in a synchronized drumming effort. Jedi worked his way up to a pounding beat intended to guide us on a journey to the imagined center of the earth, from which we were to emerge in a different dimension. But with all the reverberating thumping, the migraine that had been threatening since supper time decided to engage full-force.

  I placed my drum on the floor and backed out of the circle. Jedi had his eyes closed, so I slipped out of the room with no fuss.

  Since I always kept an extra migraine pill in my pocket, I popped one. My headache had given me an opportunity to explore the center. I edged further down the hallway and peeped out at the front desk. As I'd suspected, the teen had gone home, since we were probably the only class of the evening.

  The drums were still pulsing, but as I crept up the stairway, I stopped short when a dog bark sounded from upstairs. It was muffled, but it was decidedly deep, so it could easily be Coal. Since he hadn't really barked in earnest at my house, I wasn't sure if it was him, but it could be, and that was enough to propel me up the steps with lightning stealth.

  I went from door to door, but all was silent until I got to a door marked Doctor Mark Schneider, where voices were murmuring inside. I turned in a circle, listening, but the hallway was otherwise silent. Had I simply imagined the dog bark?

  The doctor's room door burst
open, so I hastily moved toward the stairs. Turning back for a quick glance at who was behind me, I caught sight of a woman with an impeccably made-up face, fitted dress, and heels. I realized it was Isabella, the woman who'd been discussing Gerard's golf instructing skills at our cafe.

  I slowed at the top step and faced her. "Hello."

  Isabella hesitated, then looked at me closely. "Oh, you're the woman from the doggie cafe, aren't you?"

  I nodded. "Macy Hatfield. My brother and I run the place."

  She gave a wobbly smile. Her eyes and nose were a bit reddened under the makeup, as if she'd been crying. "It's delightful. I keep trying to talk my husband into visiting with me, but he's not a dog person." She gave a slight giggle. "Or a cafe person, for that matter." She extended a hand. "I'm Isabella Rhodes. It's nice to meet you, Macy. Are you a regular at Ivy Hill?"

  I shook my head, perhaps a bit too vociferously. "I'm just visiting—I wanted to try the drumming class, but I got a headache, so I was looking for a water fountain or something."

  She gave me a knowing nod. "I tried that class—not for me, either. But there are water bottles in the mini fridge downstairs. Just go to the end of the hallway."

  "Thanks," I said.

  "Sure." She fingered the chain strap on her purse. "Don't let that class throw you. Jedi's kind of a wannabe, and not the most gifted teacher. But there are plenty of qualified people working here, like Doc Schneider." She jerked a thumb toward the door she'd just come from. "He's a fantastic psychologist."

  Like a teakettle about to whistle, Isabella seemed ready to burst with her insider information. Even as I heard the drumming class dispersing downstairs, she touched my arm and lowered her voice.

  "My golf instructor Gerard died suddenly, you see. You probably heard about it in the news. I needed to talk with someone about it. Unpack the grief, you know?"