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?"
I nodded, unsure where she was leading the conversation.
"I talked to the center director about it—Alice Stevenson. Have you met her? Anyway, I told her I needed some free therapy sessions since the murder happened on their property, to my poor golf instructor. She agreed to three sessions, and I've found Doc Schneider to be so understanding, about the death and other things."
"That's good." I wasn't sure if that was the appropriate response to someone discussing their free therapy sessions.
Isabella rolled right along. "At first I thought Alice was odd, but it seems she's quite kind. She assured me that all the golf students will be reimbursed for the lessons we're missing until she finds a replacement instructor."
As the chatter from downstairs seemed to drift closer, I interrupted Isabella's monologue. "Did you by any chance hear a dog barking during your session?" I asked.
She looked thoughtful. "Actually, I think I did! It was right when we were discussing my mother-in-law. I heard a couple of big woofs, but then Doc Schneider turned on his indoor waterfall so I could refocus. Why do you ask?"
Before I could answer, Jedi came bounding up the steps, his bare feet sinking into the carpet. "Macy," he gushed. "You abandoned us! What happened to you?"
Perhaps sensing she was no longer the focus of attention, Isabella said goodnight, sidestepping Jedi to head downstairs.
"I'm afraid I got a migraine. I had to look for some water."
"There's some in the—"
"I know, Isabella told me, thank you." I walked down the stairs, Jedi close on my heels. "I don't think I'll be doing your class anymore—I'm sorry. I just can't handle the drumming. But are there any other classes I could take?" I needed to keep up a pretense so I could locate the source of the dog barks.
Jedi was obviously peeved. "Well, not really—I mean, not on the same days."
"Any day is okay." I tried to sweeten my tone. "I could really use any kind of help while I'm working through my divorce."
He sighed and kicked at the carpet. "There is one class on Wednesdays and Fridays—it's the Thrive at Life class. I don't think it's as helpful as the drums for realigning your spirit, though."
"I'll just have to make do, I suppose. Could you sign me up?"
After Jedi reluctantly signed me up for the class, I strode out into the brisk air, appreciating the planets and stars that now dotted the darkened night sky. I took a moment to pick out Cygnus the swan, one of my favorite constellations.
I was just about to round the front of the building to see if I could find an easy way to climb to the second floor when a security guard emerged from the shadows.
"Excuse me, miss. The parking lot is the other way."
I felt like an idiot and was glad he couldn't see the blush creeping up my cheeks. "Oh my word, it's been such a long day and I was just stargazing—it's such a great view up on the hill. Thank you so much."
I turned and strode back toward the parking area. So much for hunting Coal down tonight. But I'd be back tomorrow evening, and I'd make an excuse to go upstairs. I needed to make sure it was Coal before I called it in as a dognapping, otherwise word would get around town that an owner of Barks & Beans had a screw loose.
However, if someone had stolen my dog, I was going to make them rue the day they'd assumed Coal would be an easy target. Coal now came with strings attached—and those strings were attached to me.
7
The next morning, Bo asked how the hunt for my dog was going. He'd gone out looking for Coal after he closed up and wondered why he hadn't seen me out searching, too.
I hedged a little, telling him that I'd followed up on a possible lead outside town, but it hadn't panned out yet. I did plan to have a discussion with Bo about why I felt Katie had taken my dog and maybe even hidden him at Ivy Hill, but the cafe was busy, so I decided to hold off until after work.