Page 76 of Silent Threat
Annie kept upright with effort. She was exhausted and hurt—not just physically, but emotionally. She hadn’t been aware that anyone hated her, let alone hated her enough to want to kill her. When Harper asked her if she had any suspicion who might be doing this, she told him just that.
“With my fence hit and the gate left open, I thought it might be Joey,” she said. “Maybe he’s thinking if he scares me, I’ll be too frightened to stay alone at night, and I’ll ask him over, give him a chance to win me back. But I don’t think he would hurt me.”
“He’s not an angel, but he’s more of the drunken-brawl type when he’s hunting for trouble.” Harper tapped his pen on the notepad he held. “I’ll track him down and see where he’s been for the last couple of hours. He drives a pickup. Are you sure the car you saw wasn’t a truck?
“Yes.” A sudden thought squeezed her heart. “His mother has a dark-blue SUV.”
“I think you’re right. She usually parks it in the driveway, so that’ll be easy enough to check without a warrant.” Harper paused a beat. “Anybody else?”
She shook her head, then regretted even the slight motion. Her head was beginning to hurt again.
“How about here at Hope Hill?” Harper asked. “An angry patient? Some people with PTSD can become violent.”
She had two dozen patients. She considered them, one by one. Yes, some were depressed, some had anger-management issues, some had anxiety. But she could not classify any of them as a danger to others. If she did, she would have reported it to Dan already. Hope Hill was a rehab center, but not for severe psychological cases that required a locked psych ward and a lot more supervision than they had here.
“I don’t think it’s a patient.”
Harper paged back in his notebook. “Every page of this investigation has Cole Makani Hunter’s name on it. I’m not a big believer in coincidence.” He asked his next question in a careful tone. “I saw that kiss. How involved are you two?”
“Not at all.” She jumped up. Her head pounded. She sank back onto the mattress again. “What you saw was a mistake. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. I was shaken up, and Cole was ... feeling protective, and ... I should have stopped him. There’s not going to be a next time. I swear.”
Harper’s skeptical gaze said he didn’t entirely believe her. “Just because you don’t think you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean he’s on the same page. Maybe he’s the one who wants to scare you so you go to him to feel safe.” He tapped his notebook again. “Usually, when the same guy’s name comes up over and over in an investigation, it means something.”
“It’s not him.”
“He didn’t run you off the road. I’ll agree on that. I was with him when the call came in. But he could be behind the incidents at your house.”
They went around on that point for another few minutes. Then Harper had her tell him everything about the accident all over again, starting with when she’d first noticed the SUV behind her.
She finished with, “I wish I could remember something helpful.”
Harper stood to leave. “Call me if you remember anything new at all.”
He tore a sheet from his notepad and scribbled a phone number on it. “That’s my private number. If you feel that you’re in danger, you call 911 first, then you call me immediately after.”
On his way out, Harper stopped by the door. “You gonna be OK? I could stick around for a while. My shift is almost over. I doubt I’ll get another call tonight.”
“I’m good. I’m just going to watch TV. Thanks anyway.” She walked over, and when he left, she locked the door behind him.
She was barely halfway to her bed when someone knocked. Did Harper forget something? She opened the door.
Cole stood outside. He looked tired and rumpled, and like the man she wanted to kiss again. She swallowed a groan. That’d better be the painkiller talking.
His gaze sharpened, his forehead furrowed into a deep scowl. “What are you doing opening the door without asking who it is first?”
“Don’t yell at me.” She let him in. “I have a headache.”
“I wasn’t yelling.”
“You were talking sternly.”
The corner of his mouth did that almost-twitch.
Don’t think about the kiss. He’s only looking at your mouth to read your lips.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“People who have a concussion aren’t supposed to stay alone.”
