No Filter

by Heather Day Gilbert

  The wealthy residents of Lewisburg seemed to have turned out en masse, which was likely the outcome Alice had been shooting for.

  All the employees I'd met were also in attendance, and I wondered which of them was my mystery texter. Katie looked tan and svelte in a pink sheath dress, although I imagined her exposed legs were going to get cold as the evening wore on. Jedi hung around the outskirts of the crowd, wearing suit pants that were too large on him and a wrinkled dress shirt. Doc Schneider was working his way through a heap of oysters. A pretty older woman sat by his side, and I assumed she was his wife.

  A younger man wearing cargo pants and a golf shirt made his way to the food table. Noting the headphones tucked around his collar, I realized this must be the new golf instructor, Austin. Given the way he ignored the guests, I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long in his job.

  Alice picked up a glass and dinged on it with her fork. "Your attention, please! Thank you so much for attending our first oyster roast at Ivy Hill. Thanks to generous donors like you, we are able to continue to provide programs and outlets for the Lewisburg community. Please take a moment to sign our guest book and share your email with us, if you want to stay up to date on upcoming opportunities." She gave an enigmatic smile. "We're very excited about some recent developments, and we can't wait to share our news with you via email, once we get the go-ahead. Thank you for your support!"

  The crowd began to dissipate after Alice's speech, with latecomers settling in at tables the early diners had started to abandon. I stood, found a trash can, and dumped my plate. I glanced around for Dylan, but didn't see him.

  Checking my phone clock, I realized it was already a quarter to eight. I was fairly certain guests were allowed to ramble around the grounds, so I confidently walked toward the main building. Sure enough, the battery candles and twinkle lights were on. Voices approached in the downstairs hallway, so I dodged upstairs and took a breather on the landing.

  Only one door in the wide hallway stood open—the door to Alice's office. A lamp on her desk was flipped on, and I stepped closer to peek inside. The decorations were strange, for sure, but I didn't see any rhino horn. Maybe Isabella simply made that story up to impress Mary Anne. The desk lamp was the only pretty thing that caught my eye. I'd always been a fan of dragonflies, and the green stained glass lampshade featured several large dragonflies, their wings overlapping. Why had Alice left her door open with so many strangers around?

  I had to admit that Alice could be my mystery informant, but if so, why would she give me information before sharing it with the police, when she was the director at Ivy Hill?

  Stepping away from her office, I fingered the knife in my pocket. Thanks to regular practice with it, I could pull it out and flip it open in one smooth movement. It seemed unlikely I'd need it for this covert meeting—after all, the informant had seemed anxious to tell me something. I doubted it was a setup, because I wasn't a threat to anyone. I had no more clue who had killed Gerard or stolen my dog than any of the townspeople around here.

  Riding on my temporary wave of confidence, I walked straight to the last hallway door and opened it. It gave a resounding squeak on its hinges. I cringed, knowing I'd lost any element of surprise. A set of stairs led, presumably, to an attic. I didn't bother to soften my footsteps as I pounded up to see who awaited me.

  I topped the landing and peered into the darkened room. I couldn't see anyone—maybe I'd arrived too early? I was fumbling for my phone to turn on my flashlight when I heard someone pull on a chain. A light bulb flickered on at the opposite end of the attic.

  A man sat in a rocking chair, waiting for me. And he was the last person I'd expected.

  Doctor Mark Schneider.

  17

  I stared at the doctor and he stared at me.

  Finally, I worked up the nerve to say something, although it was completely inane. "So, you sent me that text?"

  He nodded, motioning to a cracked leather seat across from him. "Please, have a seat, Macy."

  As I walked over, he continued to explain. "I apologize for all the subterfuge, but I didn't want anyone here knowing I was connected with you in any way. It's safer for you."

  I sat down, bits of dried-out leather sprinkling my pants. "Why? What do you mean? And what kind of information do you have on my dog?"

  The psychologist adjusted his glasses. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

  I nodded mutely, anxious to get to the reason for this clandestine meeting.

  "Gerard talked to me more than I let on to you," he said. "Not as a psychologist, mind you. More like...someone he could trust. I wouldn't say we were close friends or anything like that. Yet he directly approached me the week before he died."

  I leaned forward. "And he told you something about his dog?"

  "Yes. He told me if something happened to him, I was to immediately take his dog to a shelter, and that I couldn't give the dog to anyone at Ivy Hill. It was clear he thought someone was out to harm him, and I asked him who he was afraid of. He wouldn't elaborate more than to say he feared for his life due to something he was transporting for someone else."

  "Someone at Ivy Hill?"

  He shrugged. "That's what I assumed. Of course, I tried to get to the root of his fear, but he wouldn't tell me anything. I got the impression his dog was valuable in some way, more so than a normal dog, but he never confirmed that idea."

  "So when Gerard was killed, you realized he had good reason to fear," I said.

  "Yes. The moment the news broke, I grabbed the house key Gerard had made for me and went to his place. I had to look around a little, but I found the dog registration papers he'd placed on his desk, just in case. Then I managed to load up his dog." He chuckled. "No easy task, that. I drive a coupe."

  I had to smile, envisioning Coal riding shotgun in a little two-seater.

  "Anyway," he continued, "I took him straight to the nearest shelter to unload him as fast as possible, just like Gerard wanted."

  I thought of what Katie had told me when she'd tried to buy Coal. "But I heard there was a staff email that went out, asking if anyone could take in Gerard's dog."

  "That was a ruse," the doctor said. "That's what I told Katie when she came asking for the dog—which of course, made me suspect she was involved in Gerard's death. I convinced her that her email must've gotten lost."

  "Did you tell this to the police?" I asked.

  "Showing interest in a coworker's dog is hardly proof of murderous intent," he said. "I figured if Katie was involved in whatever kind of transporting Gerard was doing, the police would turn that up."

  "So why did you just now decide to text me?" I asked.

  "Ah." He pushed off with his feet, setting his rocking chair going. "Because it was only when you and Katie were discussing how you'd adopted Gerard's dog and you said it had been stolen that I put two and two together. I didn't have time to talk with you that evening, so I asked you to meet me tonight."

  "So what, you just wanted to confirm that I'd adopted Gerard's dog, or you wanted to know if he'd been found yet?"

  "Oh, no, I knew you'd found him—I overheard Katie talking at lunch, and she said she'd stumbled across Gerard's Great Dane in the golf shed. She told me you had him back, so I thought I'd tell you he must be worth something, given the way Gerard wanted to protect him."

  I knew something the doc didn't seem to know—that the metal tag Gerard had hidden on Coal's collar was likely worth more than the Great Dane himself. But I wasn't about to play that hand. The doc may have told me Gerard found him trustworthy, but I was still suspicious of everyone who worked at Ivy Hill. Quite possibly, he was stealthily probing me for information.

  "I see." I brushed the leather flecks off my pants. "Yes, Coal—that's what I named Gerard's dog—is back, safe and sound, with me. Thank you for letting me know your concerns, Doctor, but I don't plan on ever selling Coal, no matter how much he's worth. However, I've already upped my vigilance with him and made sure my house
is completely secure. I'll keep my eyes open when it comes to Coal, I can assure you."

  The doctor stood, and I followed suit. He shook my hand. "Good. I won't keep you any longer. I just felt I should tell you in person, and seeing as how you hadn't booked another counseling session yet, I wanted to let you know sooner rather than later that your dog might be valuable. I wondered whether he was some rare strain of Great Dane—something worth a lot for stud fees, that kind of thing."

  Summer had said that Coal was fixed, so he wasn't going to be hired out as a stud, but I did need to follow up with a vet and get some more background on his overall health and make sure his shots were up to date. Summer had given me the names of the closest vets, but none had a record of Coal. I guessed I needed to widen my circle.

  Making my way down the attic stairs in front of Doc Schneider, I asked, "Who did Gerard leave his things to, do you know? I'd like to see if they got Coal's vet records, or if they could at least direct me to the right vet."

  "I don't think he had family to speak of," the doctor said. "In fact, I think Alice was the one who went through his house and got it ready for the market. I think she said she'd rented one of those storage buildings for his furniture? I could put a few feelers out with her, if you want."

  "I'd love that." I opened the attic door, only to hear several people running up from downstairs. I hurried out and when the doctor emerged, I closed the door behind him. To cover for our secret attic meet-up, I managed to feign a conversation with him by the time someone topped the stairs.

  I had my back to them, but the doctor gave an audible gasp and pointed.

  Detective Hatcher, who wore jeans and a polo shirt, rushed into Alice's office with two uniformed officers close behind. The doctor and I inched closer to her office door. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

  Alice sat at her desk, her head dropped at a strange angle. Her lifeless eyes were bloodshot and she had a bloody nose, as well. Police were gently tugging her blue scarf from her neck, and I realized it had been pulled tight.

  "Strangulation," the doctor breathed.

  I sat down on a nearby chair, stunned into silence. Detective Hatcher caught sight of me and stepped out of the office. "Miss Hatfield. Did you just come upstairs?"

  The doctor was backing into his own office, but I wasn't sure why. We basically were one another's alibis. I wasn't about to lie for him.

  "No, I've been up here for maybe..." I looked at my phone. "Maybe thirty minutes or so. In the attic. With Doctor Mark Schneider, there." I pointed to the psychologist and his face froze. Why was he suddenly a Nervous Nellie?

  Detective Hatcher glanced at Doc Schneider. "So you and your psychologist were meeting in private because...?"

  That was why Doc Schneider was nervous. Our meeting looked shady for reasons I hadn't thought of—reasons that might make his wife doubt his loyalty.

  "We were discussing my dog—you know, the one that got dognapped. Doctor Schneider wanted to talk about how he'd transferred the dog to the shelter, but there were a few details he wanted to keep private from the staff at Ivy Hill."

  The detective looked dubious, but he was obviously distracted by the flurry of activity in Alice's office. "Okay. Did you happen to notice anything unusual when you came upstairs? Someone lurking around Miss Stevenson's office, perhaps?"

  "Oh, no, there was no one upstairs when I got here, around a quarter to eight. Although I did notice Alice's office door was wide open and her light was on, which seemed strange with so many guests around." I took another quick glance into the office and realized something had changed. "Wait—she had a lamp on her desk when I came up, and I don't see it now. It was pretty and had dragonflies on it." I stepped a bit closer. "And those drink glasses on her desk weren't there before. Maybe she was talking to someone in her office?"

  Detective Hatcher nodded, making note of what I'd told him. "Did you have anything to add, Doctor Schneider?"

  The older man anxiously shook his head. "I didn't pay attention, but I think Alice's door was closed when I came upstairs. I went straight up to the attic. That was maybe five minutes before Macy arrived."

  "All right, thank you for answering my questions." The detective headed back toward Alice's office, then gave an abrupt turn and pointed at both of us. "Oh, and you know the drill—don't go out of town and all that. We might need to talk with you some more."

  Doctor Schneider paled and nodded. "You can reach me here at Ivy Hill," he said.

  When the detective disappeared into Alice's office, a shiver went up my spine. I turned to the doctor, who was shuffling into his office. "Hang on—is he saying that we're suspects?" I asked.

  "It would appear that way." The doctor gave me a rueful look. "Perhaps a secret meeting wasn't the best idea I've ever come up with. But I figured it would be more discreet than meeting in my office on the night of a community party." He nervously tugged at his tie. "You see, I had an...indiscretion early in my marriage, and I've worked hard to rectify things with my wife. It wouldn't have looked right if she came to my office and found me with you, since you're a pretty young woman and all."

  I froze up, although I managed to say, "I understand." While I could tell his compliment was well-intended, I felt myself grow cold toward the friendly psychologist. I had thought he was lending a sympathetic ear when I told him about Jake's affairs, but maybe he was just a selfish philanderer like my ex. My lips gave a little twist of disgust.

  The observant doctor rushed to reassure me. "As I said, it happened when I was very young, and I've definitely owned up to my own stupidity. I've never lapsed again, and I don't intend to. Thus my precautions tonight."

  I murmured again that I understood and said an awkward goodnight. As I headed downstairs, I wondered how the doctor's wife had forgiven him...and if she would ever truly forget.

  18

  I walked outside the building and into a frantic hubbub. Police officers were taking guests' names and numbers before requesting they clear out. The oyster fire had died down, and guests were clustered in groups, murmuring about the murder. News had spread quickly.

  In the largest group of people, I spotted Isabella, who was talking animatedly with Katie. Moving closer, I caught the tail end of their conversation.

  "You were the one who found Alice?" Isabella asked Katie. "What did she look like?"

  Katie grimaced and seemed to blink back tears. The masseuse sure had a way of turning up at crime scenes, I'd give her that. First, she'd discovered Coal barking in a remote golf shed, and now she'd stumbled onto Alice's body in her office? She was the one the cops needed to haul in for questioning.

  Mary Anne clasped Isabella's arm, as if to steady herself. "Oh, don't let's talk about such gruesome things, Izzy."

  Isabella glanced at her distressed friend, giving her hand a comforting pat. "Of course, darling." Smoothing her sleek blonde hair, her gaze flickered over the group. "Now, where did that man of mine get to?" She looked at Mary Anne's husband. "Peter, have you seen Glen?"

  Mary Anne's husband shook his head. "Not since he finished his oysters. He said he was going to sit by the fire and enjoy the night air. That was maybe half an hour ago?"

  Isabella gave a delicate huff and stalked off in her high heeled leather boots, which were a bit over the top for an outdoor event like this.

  Katie's eyes were still widened with apparent shock, and she glanced from side to side as if unsure how to escape the failed oyster party. She could have a guilty conscience...or she could have genuinely been close with Alice, which seemed the more likely conclusion given her obvious distress. She probably wouldn't recover quickly from stumbling onto her strangled boss. I had only seen Alice from a distance, but for Katie to see her staring, reddened eyes up close and realize she was dead would've been horrifying.

  Just when I was about to take mercy on her and lead her from the crowd, Jedi moseyed over to her and pressed a bottle of sparkling water into her hand. He murmured something in her ear and wrapped an arm a
round her, leading her toward the main building. In that moment, Jedi actually seemed human, instead of a kind of caricature.

  The crowd had thinned considerably, and I decided to get out before the roving police officers asked me more questions. I was halfway to my car when Dylan came jogging up to my side.

  I'd been so distracted, I had actually forgotten he was at the party.

  "Macy, what happened? I saw you come out of the building, then the cops were asking questions about Alice...what's going on?"

  "Alice was murdered." The words came out colder than I'd intended, since I was still mentally kicking myself for meeting up with Doc Schneider one-on-one.

  He slowed. "Murdered? How? Why?"

  "I don't know. The whole thing seems weird. I mean, the glasses, the lamp—"

  "What do you mean?"

  I hit the button to unlock my car door. "It's just that when I went upstairs—I had to do something up there—I noticed this pretty dragonfly lamp on her desk. Then later, when her body was found, the lamp was missing and there were these two drink glasses sitting on the desk where they hadn't been before." I knew I was rambling, but Dylan gave an encouraging nod for me to continue. "I mean, the lamp hadn't been used to bash her on the head or anything, even though the base would've been heavy enough to do that. She was strangled, Dylan. It was awful."

  He took a moment to process what I was saying. "So the lamp was missing after she was killed, but it wasn't used to kill her."

  I nodded, sitting down in my driver's seat because I was weary of standing. I left my car door open.

  Dylan leaned against the car frame and peered in at me. "That lamp—you said it had dragonflies and a heavy base? How close did you get to it? Can you describe it for me?"