Page 43 of Still Afraid

“I’m sure someone will claim it at some point. We could always read a bit and see if it gives anything away.”

She grimaced. “I hate the invasion of privacy though.”

He nodded. “I get that. Just a thought.”

While she opened her laptop and got the paperwork for the offer sent out, he went in the kitchen and finished fixin’ dinner. But curiosity niggled at his mind. What was in that journal?

Wednesday morning, the sun shone bright above the horizon, not a cloud in sight. Nothing but blue skies, and Chloe was not in the mood to be bothered by any of her fears. She opened the gate to the dog park and let Poirot go first so she could close it behind them.

Once inside, she told him to sit then unclipped his leash. No one else was there today, and Chloe was relieved. She loved this dog park because most of the people who came didn’t expect to spend the entire time chit-chatting about nothing. Conversations were usually about their dogs. It rarely got personal or, worse, trivial.

Chloe gave Poirot his release command. Without hesitation he took off. He ran giant circles around the perimeter of the park. She waited for him to decide if he wanted to do something else. His ball was in her bag, for when he was ready.

After about five laps, Poirot was ready for more interaction. They played fetch, then she led him through the agility course. On their third trip, her phone rang. She wrestled with her bag to get the device out and barely got to it in time. Aaron!

“Hey, brother. How are you?”

“Hey, sis. I’m the one who should be asking you how you’re doing. I heard you’ve had a rough go recently.”

Poirot ran off and finished the course on his own while she paced and talked.

“You could say that. Both my car and house were broken into.”

“That’s crazy. Did they threaten you or anything?”

“No. Happened when I wasn’t there, thankfully. Are you near Knoxville still? You should come over and hang out.”

“Nah. I can’t. I wish. I miss you.”

Chloe hated to question his affection, but she’d seen him turn these conversations into a plea for money too often. “I miss you too. Have any plans to be back here before the wedding? You will be at my wedding, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss your wedding. I may not be the most reliable brother, but I still love you.”

“I know. I just really want you there.”

“I get it. But tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Aaron. The storms have me more shook up than anything.” Should she mention how knowing God was with her helped or would a statement like that push him away? She never knew with him.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. Love you, sis.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up before she could say anything more. Opportunity missed. She stopped pacing and prayed for Aaron.

Poirot barked from across the park.

Chloe spun. “What is it, boy?”

He bounded toward her.

When he reached her, she squatted down to pet him. “I’m all right, boy. Simply worried about that brother of mine. Silly, because he was calling to check on me.”

Poirot let out a soft bark.

“Exactly, buddy, exactly.” She pulled the ball back out of her bag and chucked it across the park.

A middle-aged man with a black cane corso entered the park. The man was as intimidating as the dog. Both were large and muscular, twice the size of either Poirot or Chloe. They would be no match if there were problems. Thankfully, despite their large, serious demeanor, cane corsos were relatively affectionate and kind giants. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t trained to be something else.