No Filter

by Heather Day Gilbert

  Sounded like group therapy to me, and I wasn't too keen on the idea. I had no desire to rip into my personal wounds, especially in public.

  "Let's begin with several deep breaths," Alice said.

  Bo and I obediently breathed in and out on command, although I noticed the quarreling couple didn't make any effort to join in, since they were too busy shooting glares at each other. Had a marriage counselor referred them to this class? It seemed the only explanation given their apathetic attitudes.

  There was only one other couple in the class, and the rest were singles. Most were older than us. I caught one woman watching my brother, probably wondering if we were an item, although our hair color was similar enough it was a dead giveaway that we were siblings.

  "And now, let us close our eyes and contemplate for five minutes," Alice said, playing meditative music through a speaker connected to her phone.

  As the bamboo flutes played, I nudged Bo. This would be the perfect time for him to escape. Without a noise, he got up, slipped between our chairs, and crept from the room.

  Satisfied my brother had made his getaway, I relaxed into the tuneless music. My mind drifted to my South Carolina life, trudging to work with cliquish people who couldn't care less about me, renting a house I'd never truly liked, working through the fallout of an out-of-nowhere divorce...

  Alice clapped and I jumped. "Miss Hatfield, did your brother leave us?"

  I glanced at Bo's seat as if I'd just noticed his disappearance. "I guess so. He probably had to go to the bathroom," I said.

  She gave me a doubtful look, like she expected me to elaborate.

  It was time for a diversion. I scrambled to come up with something. "Uh...I was thinking, you said this class helps you cope with your deepest wounds?"

  Alice gave a slow nod.

  I sat forward in my seat and spoke clearly, so everyone could hear. "How would you suggest coping with wounds from a divorce?"

  And thus I launched my alliance with over half the class. People shot me looks of solidarity and began raising their hands, offering up their own unsavory tales of their breakups. Alice was completely thwarted in her original plans for the session, inundated with wounds as deep as the Grand Canyon. I didn't know if she was a trained counselor, but she did make a decent effort to field questions.

  Bo was all but forgotten by the time class wound to an end. Alice prescribed journaling homework for us and said she'd look forward to seeing everyone in a couple of nights. I wasn't sure I'd have any reason to show up—I was hoping Bo had located Coal and somehow whisked him into his truck.

  Bo walked back into the room and started stacking chairs for Alice. She asked him where he'd been, and he said he'd gotten sick in the bathroom from what he thought was food poisoning. Bo had a natural gift for spinning the facts to his advantage. That's why it struck me as odd that he couldn't convince Tara he hadn't been unfaithful.

  Alice seemed to believe his tall tale and told him he didn't need to continue helping her. He thanked her and walked back to me, so we left with no further ado.

  I picked up my pace as we neared the now-vacated entryway. "So?" I asked.

  He glanced around as we walked out the front door, then shook his head. The security guard or someone else must be lurking nearby.

  Bo opened my truck door, which was an endearing habit of his and one Auntie A had worked very hard to instill. I climbed in, feeling chilly in my thin yoga pants. My heart deflated when I realized there was no Coal sitting in the extended cab seat, which is where Bo would've hidden him.

  Tonight's mission had been a failure, then.

  Bo got in and turned on the heat. "Sorry, sis. I guess you saw that I didn't have any luck. I didn't even hear a dog bark while I was in there."

  I was glad it was dark, because a few tears slipped down my cheeks.

  "But I did find something weird," he continued. "It had rolled over behind a statue in the upstairs hallway." He handed me something wrapped in a paper towel. "Isn't that a dog treat?"

  I turned on the overhead light and gave the round pellet a sniff. "It surely is."

  "So Alice says she doesn't like dogs—and dogs aren't allowed in Ivy Hill, are they?—yet there's a dog treat on the floor?"

  It was nice to see my brother coming on board with my dognapping theory. "You're right. It seems suspicious."

  "Also, I checked out Alice's office—don't give me that look. I didn't break in or anything. She'd left the door open while she taught her class."

  "Did you find anything in there?"

  He sighed. "Not really. I didn't even see that rhino horn you heard Isabella talking about. Alice seemed to have a lot of random knickknacks in her office. It wasn't like she'd invested a lot of money in her office decor."

  "Yeah, Ivy Hill isn't exactly hopping. Maybe the golf course is more lucrative?"

  Bo turned the heater fan down. "It's possible. Do you think Gerard was somehow embezzling from Ivy Hill, or even taking money on the side from lonely ladies?"

  I cracked my window since the cab had warmed up too much. "Could be. Maybe that's why he got into it with Alice—she figured out what he'd been doing and called him on it." Rapping my nails on the door, I blurted, "I don't care so much about what Gerard was up to as I do about where Coal is. Do you think they're feeding him enough?"

  "They'd be fools not to," Bo said quickly. "Like I said, he's worth a lot if they do decide to sell him."

  I fell silent, hoping they didn't sell Coal before I could track him. It was a desperate situation, but I had no clue where to check next. It seemed like the only option left was to contact the police, but I couldn't prove Coal had been dognapped, much less by someone at Ivy Hill. I couldn't send the cops on a wild goose chase.

  Bo pulled up to the sidewalk next to my place and led the way through the back garden. I was glad I had solar lights along the pathway, because I'd forgotten to leave the porch light on.

  Bo had his house key ready and reached for the door. A split-second later, he shoved me off the porch and I nearly tumbled into a boxwood hedge. "Stay back," he commanded.

  I hunkered down next to a solar light, wishing I could see what was going on.

  "Someone must've broken in," Bo whispered, pushing the door open with a loud creak. "Your door was cracked open and they've messed with the lock."

  I shuddered to think of some stranger going through all my things. "Do you think they're still in there? We need to call the cops!"

  Bo flicked on the interior light, illuminating the gun in his hands. "I'll clear the place," he said. I considered protesting, but if anyone could handle an intruder, Bo could.

  I backed into the dark shadows in the corner of the garden. It seemed to take forever, but Bo finally came to retrieve me.

  "No one's in there," he said. "But sis, you need to be prepared, because they went through a lot of stuff and it's messy. We're going to have to call the cops and have them dust the place before we clean up."

  I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. Someone had been looking for Coal's metal tag, I was sure of it. They'd stolen him to find it, and when that effort returned void, they'd come back to my place.

  I rushed into the house and headed straight for the hall closet, trying to block out the upside-down mess they'd left in my living room and kitchen. I pushed at the wall, shifted the panel, and retrieved my safe box, which appeared to be intact. I opened it, breathing a sigh of relief when I discovered the tag still safely tucked inside.

  "So that's the tag that was on Coal?" Bo asked, peering over my shoulder. "Great hiding place. I'm so glad Auntie A had that specially designed all those years ago. You think that's what they were looking for?"

  "I'm sure of it," I said. "I don't have many other valuables...just Auntie A's diamond ring, but that's in this box, too. Hang on and I'll check upstairs." I jogged up and checked my jewelry box and the spare closet. Although my drawers had been rifled through, all my jewelry was accounted for and Auntie A's minks were still hangi
ng in storage. My gun safe remained securely locked. "My valuables are still here," I shouted as I headed downstairs.

  Bo was making another circuit of the downstairs. "Yeah, your TV is still in there, as well as your more expensive kitchen appliances, far as I can tell."

  "The cafe!" I gasped, realizing the thieves could've broken into the connecting door. My arms started shaking. "Did they get in there?"

  He looked at me closely and pulled me into a hug. "Don't worry. It looks like they didn't even try. Everything's intact in there. Now, come over to the couch and I'm going to make you a cup of tea."

  I did what my brother said, wishing I could be more detached from this situation. But my things had been strewn around willy-nilly and they'd gone through my drawers. The intruder had access to all my things, from my toiletries to my old family photos. It seemed like they hadn't stolen anything, but it was impossible to be certain until I cleaned up.

  Bo went into the kitchen and called the police while he put a kettle on to boil. By the time two police officers showed up on my doorstep, I was sipping on a mug of bracing cinnamon spice tea and had recovered a decent amount of my composure. An officer who was maybe in his early fifties introduced himself as Detective Charlie Hatcher, before waving at a younger man he introduced as Officer Butch Tomkins.

  Bo and I walked them through the place, and I explained the home invaders might've been looking for the metal tag I'd found on Coal. I handed the tag over to the police, since I'd already transcribed it into Runic code on a piece of paper and tucked it back into the safe. I'd memorized Runic writing as a teen, when I was obsessed with all things Viking, and now I was glad I had.

  While Officer Tomkins dusted for prints, Detective Hatcher questioned me about Coal's disappearance, as well as my movements of the evening. Given the intense look in his hazel eyes, I could tell he was taking this break-in seriously. He was a handsome man, with a dimple in his cheek that gave him a youthful vibe. Although he came across as an easygoing kind of fellow, something about the set of his chin told me he finished every job he started.

  The officers finally wrapped up the scene and left, causing my buoyed-up emotions to sink like a stone. Bo insisted I stay at his house, and I was more than happy to agree.

  "I'll install a deadbolt on this door tomorrow," he said. "And make sure you lock all your windows before you go anywhere."

  "I did lock them all before I left. They broke in through the door." I was testy and I couldn't stop myself.

  Knowing my propensity to get irritable when faced with situations I couldn't control, Bo promptly shut up. We walked up the darkened sidewalk and he let me into his house, which was a bungalow style place with a totally different flavor than Auntie A's oversized Colonial. Decorated with light colors and wicker furniture, Bo's house felt like it belonged on the beach instead of tucked into the Appalachian mountains.

  "I'll sleep on the couch," Bo said. "You use my room."

  Unable to formulate a coherent sentence, I nodded and trudged off to Bo's bedroom. I climbed into bed without changing, since I'd forgotten to bring my pajamas with me and I didn't want to raid my brother's closet.

  Some stupid sliver of me longed for my ex-husband's embrace. Cheater that he was, Jake had always been highly affectionate—something that had drawn me to him. I tamped down my emotions, reminding myself of all Jake's vices, and went to sleep thinking of new ways to search for my dog.

  9

  The tantalizing smells of bacon and cooked peppers and onions woke me. I slid out of bed and pulled the comforter up to tuck it over the pillows, unsure if I'd be staying here again tonight.

  As I walked across the hall to the bathroom, I was surprised to hear Bo's low voice in the kitchen. Was someone there? Maybe the cops had already figured out who had broken in?

  I tiptoed down the hallway and peered through the open dining room into Bo's kitchen. He had painted his cabinets a beautiful shade of blue, which seemed to bring the ocean right inside.

  He was holding a cell phone between his shoulder and chin. "You're being unreasonable."

  Who was he talking to?

  He set the phone on the counter, putting it on speaker before using a spatula to flip what appeared to be a veggie-laden omelet. "I know what it looked like, but you have to believe me, it was some kind of setup."

  A woman's smooth voice filled the air, but her words were laced with poison. "A setup? Why would some random employee try to set you up, Bo? Liv had proof you'd been having a fling with her. I've talked to her since you moved, and she's left me with no doubt you were lying to me."

  I fought the urge to grab the phone and give her a 'what for'—Auntie A's term for the kind of verbal reprimand you wouldn't soon forget. The woman had to be Tara, and the fact that she believed Bo was untrustworthy proved to me just how little she really knew my honorable brother.

  Even worse was watching Bo, who had blanched so much I could see his freckles standing out. He looked like he was going to be sick.

  I backed toward the bathroom and dilly-dallied there for a few minutes. When I emerged, I whistled an off-key tune with all my might. I sauntered toward the kitchen, but there was no phone in sight as Bo slid the omelets onto plates.

  "Hey, bro," I said, forcing a yawn so I'd look like I'd just woken up.

  "I take it you overheard my conversation," he said, carrying the plates to the table.

  "What conver—"

  "You're a horrible actor, Macy. Yes, I was talking with Tara. Yes, she still hates me. That's about the size of it."

  Bo grabbed two cups of coffee from the island and handed me one, then plopped onto a chair. "Have a seat," he said.

  "Well...isn't it really early out there in California? I mean, maybe she wasn't fully awake yet."

  "She gets up at four in the morning to work out," he said. "She's kind of an insomniac."

  I savored my first bite of the golden, cheesy omelet. "Perfect," I said around my mouthful. "But honestly, she sounded like a real harpy or some other mythological demon-woman."

  Instead of agreeing, Bo looked hurt. "She's really not. She's just reeling from this whole thing, that's all."

  I couldn't understand why he was making excuses for her, but it really wasn't any of my business. I'd never gotten along with any of Bo's previous girlfriends, so why should I start now?

  I took a giant swig of the bracing dark roast coffee, then glanced at my phone. The Lewisburg police department had called, but didn't leave a message. I hit the speaker button on my phone and called their number.

  The receptionist put me in touch with Detective Hatcher, and he reported that they hadn't found any stray prints. "Whoever broke in used gloves," he said.

  "Are you looking into what the metal tag could mean?" I asked.

  "We're working on it."

  "Are you going to do anything about my dog?" I'd given them a couple of missing dog flyers to put up near the station.

  "Not much we can do that you haven't already done, Ma'am," he said. "But we'll be watching for him." He chuckled. "I mean, he's not the kind of dog you can miss, is he?"

  I didn't find this fact amusing in the least, especially given that someone had been able to hide him for this long.

  My heart started pounding and I took shallow breaths. "Just because he's a big dog doesn't mean he'll be a cinch to find."

  Bo shook his head at me, obviously sensing I was about to lose my cool.

  "Of course, Ma'am." The detective had gotten serious. "Like I said, we'll keep a sharp eye out for him. I'll update you if they find anything new with the prints, but in the meantime, be sure you get better locks on the door. The one you had was so old, it wasn't hard to jimmy open."

  That much was apparent. As I hung up, Bo said, "I'll pick up a couple of locks at the hardware today and get them in for you by tonight. It's up to you if you're ready to stay there again—you know you're welcome to hang out here."

  I couldn't allow myself to fall into my baby sister role indefinit
ely. "I might as well go home." An idea occurred to me. "Hey, do you think someone could cover for me with the dogs today? I'd like to get busy cleaning up my house. Summer only brought three dogs over yesterday, so I doubt it'll be a handful."

  Bo was already standing to clear the plates. "Sure. I'll fill in for you, and Kylie was just saying she wanted to spend some time with the dogs. Although she's such a knockout barista, I won't position her over there for long—I need to keep her in the Beans section." He winked. "You take a break, sis. I'll bring the locks over and install them on lunch break. Do you have a weapon, just in case?"

  Bo had given me my own .22 rifle when I turned sixteen, along with a hunter's safety course and numerous personal shooting trips to the range for practice. I'd kept it all these years, and I did practice with it occasionally, though not enough to make me a pro. Yet I felt reasonably confident with my home defense weapon.

  "Still have the .22 in my gun safe," I said. "I'll be okay."

  "Okay." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to book it to work. Call if you need anything."

  As I brewed myself a fresh cup of coffee, I noticed a framed photo Bo had tucked behind a large Aloe plant on the windowsill. It was Bo and Tara, and they were both beaming on the beach. Tara's short, dark hair was windswept, and while her vivid green eyes were amused, they still managed to throw down a challenge. Tara was the kind of woman men never forgot.

  Meanwhile, I wondered what men saw when they looked at me. My voluminous strawberry blonde hair resembled a fluffy mane unless I straightened it. My body was hardly sporty like Tara's—although I smugly recalled how my ex used to tell me I was curvy in all the right places. My eyes were a pale shade somewhere between blue and gray. Perhaps my unassuming appearance made me approachable, because everywhere I went, perfect strangers struck up conversations with me—just like Isabella had done yesterday.