No Filter

by Heather Day Gilbert

  "Thanks," I said, stepping into the cramped shed to get a better idea of where Coal had been kept. At least his abductor had put him in a crate big enough for him. Would it have been possible for a woman to drag such a huge crate out this far? Maybe someone had helped her. Katie looked thin, but she was likely muscular, given her masseuse job.

  The shed was stuffed with rusty yard maintenance tools and looked like it had sat untouched for years. I imagined most groundskeeping things had been moved closer to the newer golf course clubhouse for easy access.

  "The door wasn't locked, was it?"

  Katie shook her head. "Nope."

  I stroked Coal's head, because he had basically glued himself to the side of my leg. "That doesn't really make sense—someone just stashed a huge dog out here, assuming no one would find out?"

  Bo pulled the door shut and slid his phone from his jeans pocket. "I'm going to call Detective Hatcher and let him know we found Coal. They'll probably want to sweep this place for evidence, especially since it can't be a coincidence Gerard's dog was hidden at the same place he worked." He walked around the side of the building to talk.

  "I agree." I put on a smile and turned to Katie. "Thank you so much for letting me know about him. You can't imagine how worried I was."

  Katie still seemed genuinely happy about our reunion. "I'm sure! I hope you find whoever did this. I do need to get back for my next appointment, though." She gave Coal a smile and waved at me before jogging across the green. She had the nice, even strides of someone who jogged frequently.

  Bo returned from his brief call. "The police will be coming over soon. They said we don't have to wait up for them, since Coal probably needs some TLC at home." He gestured to the dog, who had thrust his face under my palm and wouldn't budge.

  "Yeah, let's go," I said. I didn't even have to pull on Coal's leash; he simply trailed along at my heels all the way to Bo's truck. I crawled into the extended cab seat and let Coal sit on the front floor. When we got back to my place, Coal got out and relieved himself before heading inside and curling into a ball under his blanket.

  "I guess he's not hungry," I said. "Maybe that means they took care of him—well, aside from the fact that they locked him in a crate in a dark shed."

  Bo patted my shoulder. "One thing's certain—he belongs here with you, sis. I can see he'd never try to escape from your house. Someone took him."

  "Do you think it was someone he knew, and that's why he went with them?" I asked.

  "Maybe, or they could've lured him out with a treat or something. Hard to say." Bo's phone buzzed with a text message and he glanced at it. "That's Charity asking if I can come over and verify a delivery. You going to be okay here?"

  "Sure. I have locks on my doors and my dog's back safe and sound. Everything's peachy." I walked over and started filling my teakettle.

  "So you'll lay off your Ivy Hill recon missions?" Bo asked.

  I turned the water off and stared. "What do you mean?"

  Bo grinned. "I know you went over there last night, too."

  I huffed. "What, are you stalking me now? Can't a girl do things on her own around here? If you must know, I talked to the Ivy Hill psychologist about Jake."

  Bo chuckled. "You don't have to explain. And no, I'm not stalking you, I just noticed you weren't home when I took my evening jog. I guessed you'd gone to Ivy Hill to search for Coal."

  "You took a jog last night? I thought you were pooped!"

  "I did, too, but I had a burst of stupid adrenaline." He placed a hand on the doorknob. "Tara texted when I got home."

  I slammed the kettle down on the burner and cranked the temperature to high. I didn't even have the words for Tara's hot and cold behavior toward Bo. Did she get her kicks out of running my brother through the emotional wringer?

  "And? What did she say?" I demanded.

  "She said Liv quit her job yesterday and walked out. Liv's the woman who accused me of seeing her while I was engaged."

  "In other words, the woman who set you up." I poured hot water over a chocolate mint tea bag. "Want one?" I offered.

  "No, thanks. I need to get back to work. Anyway, Tara started second-guessing everything about Liv when she quit so abruptly."

  Second-guessing? She shouldn't have believed that liar the first time. I bit my tongue, taking a scalding sip of tea instead.

  "I know," Bo said. "You think if she'd really loved me, she wouldn't have discounted what I said so quickly."

  Yes, that was exactly what I was thinking. I poured myself a glass of cold water and took a drink to relieve the pain I'd inflicted on my tongue with the piping hot tea. I gave a stiff nod, since I didn't feel like vocalizing my rather strident opinions on Tara.

  Bo seemed to pick up on my black thoughts. "Okay, well, I'll head on over. Call me if you need anything." He pulled my door shut.

  I dumped more sugar in my tea before tiptoeing into the living room. When I pulled a blanket from the back of my couch, Coal snorted awake. He extracted his head from his blanket and gave me a mournful gaze before standing and lumbering over to the couch. I didn't even try to stop him as he situated himself on top of my cold feet.

  As I clenched the warm mug between my hands, I tried to fend off the chill that was settling into my soul—toward Tara, toward Jake, and toward whoever had stolen Coal from me. I didn't want to turn into someone who saw nothing but evil in the world, but sometimes it seemed there were precious few truly altruistic people out there.

  A text from Summer buzzed through. It said, "You doing okay?"

  I'd completely forgotten to update her on Coal. I grabbed my phone from the couch and called her direct line because I knew she'd want to hear the good news. Come to think of it, maybe there were still a few caring people left on earth.

  14

  After updating Summer on the turn of events with Coal, which produced happy whoops and whistling on her end, I somehow drifted off into a nap.

  My phone rang a couple of times, rousing me from a disjointed afternoon dream. I didn't like napping, mostly because it gave me just enough time to launch into a weird dream before I had to get up and do something else. I managed to extract my phone from under Coal's back, since he'd shifted positions and now sprawled along the end of the couch.

  "Hello? Yes?" I said groggily.

  "Hi, is this Macy?"

  The male voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.

  "Yes, this is."

  "It's Dylan Butler, from the art gallery in town." He paused. "This might seem a little awkward, but I felt we weren't able to finish our conversation the other night at the concert. I took the liberty of calling Bo, and he gave me your cell number. I hope you don't mind."

  Well, this was interesting. I recalled the letter from Dylan's gallery that had been tucked into Gerard's mailbox. This was my chance to figure out if there had been any significance in that mailing.

  I tried to show my enthusiasm. "Oh, sure. No problem. Glad to get caught up. What'd you want to talk about?"

  "Actually," Dylan continued, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. My friend owns a little restaurant that's really taking off. I'd love to spend some time with you."

  Wow. I hadn't planned to plunge back into the dating scene so soon, although it had been months since my divorce.

  "Sure, that'd be good." I stood to stretch and Coal shot me a baleful stare. It was clear he didn't want to be apart from me.

  "Great—how about tonight, if that works for you?"

  I stood stock-still, glancing around my living room as if it would give me a clue how to respond. Really, tonight?

  Dylan spoke into my silence. "Of course, if that doesn't work, it's fine. I just knew my friend had a table open tonight and it's kind of hard to get reservations—"

  I interrupted him before I could second-guess myself. "I'll do it." It came out sounding more like I was taking Dylan up on a dare than accepting a date with him.

  "Sure, okay. I'll be by to pick you up ar
ound seven. I'm looking forward to it."

  "Me, too," I said.

  I hung up, promptly launching into full-on panic mode. Did I have one outfit that would be appropriate for a date? I had my DMV work separates, but they were bland and boring. Maybe if I threw a scarf on...but did people even wear scarves anymore? Mine were at least fifteen years old.

  There was no time to go shopping, and I didn't know anyone I could borrow clothes from. Summer's style was a far cry from my own and besides, she was taller than I was. I looked up date night outfits on Pinterest, and all of them looked like something a "streetwalker" would wear (as Auntie A would say).

  I reasoned that Dylan must've been attracted to me based on my normal dress style since he'd only seen me at the concert. I charged upstairs and plundered my closet, finally discovering a pair of dark jeans and a white blouse that I could spruce up with my camel sweater, jewelry, and a pair of suede low-heeled boots that were surprisingly comfortable. Coal followed me into my room, sitting outside the bathroom door as I showered. He plodded into the bathroom as I put on my makeup, unwilling to give me any space at all.

  How was I going to leave my clingy dog alone in the house tonight? He was obviously feeling anxious, probably remembering that someone came in and snatched him the last time I left.

  I called Bo to see if he could sit with Coal, and he was happy to help out. "You okay to go out with Dylan?" he asked. "I wasn't sure if you'd want me to give him your number."

  "I'm fine with it. I mean, you worked with him a lot when you designed the cafe, right?"

  "Yeah, he seems solid enough." He chuckled. "And I don't think he'd do anything questionable, since he knows I'm your brother."

  That was probably an understatement. But then again, Jake had dared to cheat on me, brother or no brother. Granted, Jake knew Bo was across the country at the time.

  I shoved thoughts of my ex behind me. "Okay, see you soon."

  Bo came over early, as I'd expected, and I told him to help himself to whatever was in my fridge. He'd make a much better meal of it than I could.

  Coal nuzzled against my hand a little, but I led him back to his pillow and told him to stay. I went ahead and walked out into the garden, hoping to clear my head before Dylan showed up.

  I needed to stay focused, no matter how alluring Dylan smelled and looked. If he had any connection with Gerard Fontaine, I wanted to know what it was. It seemed like something the police might like to know, as well.

  A polished black BMW pulled into an open spot on the street. Dylan stepped out, shoving his stylish sunglasses up on his head. He walked over to my garden gate and opened it for me.

  "Thanks for going out so last-minute." His dark blue eyes played over my face. They stopped on my peach-glossed lips, like he was looking at some rare delicacy.

  Was Dylan Butler a bit taken with me? It sure looked like it.

  "No problem." I eased into the comfy passenger seat as he held the door open for me.

  We didn't have to go far to get to the eclectic restaurant, which sat on top of a slight hill. As we walked in, a beautiful Indian mosaic and water feature added ambiance to the entryway, and the interior followed the Indian color theme with peacock blue, hot pink, and curry yellow shades throughout. Colorful glass lanterns hung from the fabric-draped ceiling and a fake fire glowed in an open fireplace, giving the booths an intimate feel.

  "This is wonderful," I said. "So they serve Indian food? I do love a good curry."

  "Yes, but my friend is also a deft hand with Asian cuisine," Dylan said. "And he just decided to add some French favorites to the menu, so it's really a fusion restaurant."

  "Sounds amazing," I said. We situated ourselves and looked over the impressive menu. I decided on the coconut chicken curry.

  Dylan sipped at his chai tea. "So...we left off when you were telling me you'd gotten a broadcast journalism degree in college. How'd you get from there to running a dog cafe?"

  His tone wasn't condescending—it was clear he was genuinely curious. I felt relaxed with him, like I could be myself. "I don't want to get into all the gloomy details, but I sort of burned out after college, at least emotionally. I didn't have the heart to hunt down a news reporting job back then."

  "And what about the art history minor? Did you ever consider using that?"

  I could see that Dylan was not only into the way I looked, but also into my art history mind. It was flattering that he was attracted to me, but I couldn't let that distract me from my objective tonight.

  "I did. I actually worked at one of the art colony shops at the Greenbrier for a couple of summers, but then I felt the need to spread my wings and move to South Carolina." Which was where I'd met Jake the Snake.

  "Ah! Was Julie the gallery director then? I'm good friends with her—she's the one who encouraged me to open my shop."

  "No, it was a man named Gabe at that time." I bit into my curry and savored the explosion of flavor in my mouth. "But enough about me—what about your career? You say Julie helped you with your shop? I love the clever name of it, by the way."

  "She did, and she helped me brainstorm the name. My parents also pitched in. They live in Fairlea."

  There was my opening. "Fairlea—I think that's where Gerard Fontaine lived. You know, he was that golf instructor who was murdered recently. Can you believe that? A murder so close to home?"

  I watched Dylan for any indication that he knew Gerard, but his face stayed neutral. "Oh, yes, I saw that—how awful. I wonder if the police figured out who killed him yet."

  "I haven't seen anything in the news," I said. "Have you ever been to that Ivy Hill spiritual place where he worked?"

  He took a sip of water. "A few times. I've talked with Alice, the center director, about paintings for the building." He grinned. "I can't say Alice has the best taste, but she's trying to learn."

  "Bless her heart." I took a wild stab. "Are you the one who recommended she buy that rhinoceros horn?"

  "Rhino horn? I've never seen that." He looked stymied. "Those horns would be way out of the price range she gave me for artwork. Maybe she got a knockoff?"

  I supposed that was possible, although I wondered who in the world would spend time making knockoff rhino horns. Rolling on with my questions, I asked, "Did you ever golf there?"

  "I have, just once. My dad has a membership, and one day last month his golf partner was sick, so I stepped in. Did a horrible job of it, I'm afraid. I met Gerard, actually, and he was none too kind about my rusty golf swing."

  "I've heard he could be rude," I said.

  "You knew him?" Dylan slouched back in the booth, but he couldn't conceal his tone of keen curiosity.

  If I were feeling really candid, I might tell Dylan that I was now the owner of Gerard's Great Dane, but I didn't want to bring Coal to anyone's attention. "Not personally, but I've visited the place occasionally and I've overheard a few things."

  Dylan leaned in toward me, unable to conceal his interest. "What things?"

  "Oh, you know, that he was seeing the masseuse or that he was getting too close with clients, that kind of thing." My eyes flickered from my curry to Dylan's face. "All lies, I figure."

  Dylan looked pensive. "Yeah, but sometimes, where there's smoke, there's fire."

  "Very true."

  We moved on from the subject of Gerard, passing the rest of the date trying to figure out if we had any of the same interests, aside from art and music. It seemed we couldn't be more different. He liked cats; I liked dogs. He was an entrepreneur and a leader; I was most comfortable being a follower. He enjoyed staying inside; I loved puttering in the flowerbeds.

  But by the end of our date, I had to admit I'd enjoyed spending time with Dylan. When he asked me to a showing at his gallery in a couple of weeks, I hesitated, knowing I was still in a vulnerable place emotionally.

  "I think it'll be okay, but I'll call and let you know for sure before then," I said as he walked me to my door.

  He smiled as we stood on the doo
rstep, but didn't attempt to lean in for a kiss, which I appreciated. At my knock, Bo unlocked the door from inside and flipped on the porch light. I heard Coal's gigantic paws pounding toward the door.

  After thanking Dylan again for the lovely meal, I went inside, where Coal sat directly in my way until I caved and gave him a thorough petting. My cheeks felt a little flushed, but Bo was watching his favorite show, so he didn't notice.

  "Have a good time?" He didn't turn around.

  "I did. There's a great new restaurant in town you need to visit. I brought you some of my leftover chicken curry." I spotted his keyring on the counter and set the takeout box beside it so he wouldn't forget.

  "Thanks." He paused his show and glanced at me, but thankfully my blush had toned down. "I'll head on home. Coal did okay without you, although he did steal my spot on the couch and I literally couldn't budge him for half an hour."

  As if sensing he was being ill spoken of, Coal leaned against my leg so hard he almost knocked me over. "Come on, you couch-stealing doggie," I said, rubbing behind his always-alert ears. "I'll take him up and change to my PJs. Thanks for coming over, bro."

  Bo jumped to his feet, flipping the TV off. "I'm glad your dog is recovering from his ordeal. Oh—Detective Hatcher called and said they checked out the shed at Ivy Hill, but didn't find any trace of who could've taken Coal." He grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch, shrugged into it, then scooped up his keys and the box of leftover curry.

  I sighed. "Of course they didn't." The person who'd stolen Coal had been smart and careful—the exact kind of person who'd also make an effective murderer.

  Later, I snuggled under the quilts on my bed with a mug of hot chocolate and a psychological thriller. After reading over the same paragraph four times, I had to admit I couldn't focus. Something was niggling at the back of my mind.

  Dylan had quipped that where there was smoke, there was often fire. What kind of fire—or fires—had Gerard been involved in? Doctor Schneider had categorically denied that Gerard was seeing Katie, even though Katie had made it sound like they were close. I was fairly sure that Isabella and Gerard had some kind of romantic involvement, but I wasn't a hundred percent certain.