Page 86 of Silent Threat
She texted back:Joey’s cousin picked up a car in West Chester. Joey helped. They’re both in jail for grand theft auto. Harper’s working on changing it to attempted murder.
Cole typed:Any proof they pushed you into the reservoir?
And Annie sent:Cousin has a black Chevy Blazer. Front end smashed. That’s why they went out looking for another car last night.
Think he was the intruder at your place?Cole hit “Send.”
A couple of seconds passed before her response came:Maybe Joey complained I wouldn’t take him back. Wanted to scare me a little?
Running you off the road is more than just scaring you a little, Cole responded.
And she sent:Got carried away? Kind of a boozer.
Cole wanted to talk to Finnegan. Would the detective disclose anything about the case? Probably not. Still, Joey and his cousin were behind bars—progress. And when the paint on Annie’s back bumper matched, they’d stay behind bars. Cole liked that even better.
Another message popped up from Annie:Any sessions this morning?
Cole typed a quick response:Ambrose at eight.
As long as Annie didn’t need him, he might as well go for a run in the woods before the session with the shrink. Even if he’d much rather be with Annie, helping her with her animals. Not that she really needed his help. She was as self-sufficient as they came. And now she didn’t need his protection either. Annie was safe.
Cole went for his run, showered, then headed off to see his shrink.
“Cole.” Ambrose greeted him and pointed him to the armchair across from his desk. He knew better than to point him to the couch.
Nobody was going to put Cole on his back, a fact he’d explained to the guy right at the beginning, in no uncertain terms.
“How are you feeling?” As usual, the man poured them both a glass of ice water from the carafe on his desk.
“How does anybody feel after what happened with Trevor?”
The man watched him. “Any thoughts that maybe Trevor was right, maybe that’s the solution? Any dark or suicidal thoughts at all?”
Cole drank. You confessed suicidal thoughts to a shrink, and next thing you knew, you were transported to a locked facility. He’d seen it done at the vet hospital where they’d initially treated his shoulder.
“Nope,” he said, and made sure to look sincere.
“Were you and Trevor friends?”
“Barely.” If he said yes, Ambrose would want to spend more time on the subject. Yet denying Trev also felt wrong.
“How does this affect you in light of your father’s suicide?”
“My father’s suicide was a long time ago. I’ve dealt with it. This brings back some of the pain. Some of the guilt. But when a person makes a decision, there isn’t much anyone can do to stop them. You can’t monitor someone twenty-four–seven.”
“All right,” Ambrose said after watching him for a couple of seconds. “How about your other issues? Are you making progress there? Flashbacks?”
“No.”
“Nightmares?”
“Sure.”
“How bad? Would you call them night terrors? Do you wake up heart pounding, screaming? Do you wake up to find you’ve maybe moved off the bed, walked across the room without realizing?”
“Once or twice.”
“What were the dreams about?”
