Page 35 of Silent Threat
He kept going until he saw a police car pull up. Had to give credit to the cops; even though it wasn’t an emergency call, the cruiser was there in less than ten minutes. Cole left the fence and went to join Annie.
Detective Harper Finnegan was in his midthirties, built and sharp-eyed, but with plenty of small-town friendliness. Smart too. He took Annie seriously on the first try, without Cole intervening.
Then the detective turned his attention to Cole, dropping a few degrees on the friendliness meter. “And how are you involved in all this, Mr.Hunter?”
His expression wasn’t accusatory, but Cole could see where Finnegan was going. Cole was handy. If the whole trail of nastiness could be pinned on him, the detective could be home for lunch. Nobody wanted to do things the hard way if an easy way was readily available.
Cole shot Finnegan a look that let him know Cole andeasydidn’t live in the same area code, in case the man was prone to delusions. “I am helping Annie with her animals.”
Annie said, at the same time, “He’s from Hope Hill.”
They began walking back to the fox.
“How long have you been in Broslin?” the detective asked, clearly not intimidated by the fact that Cole probably had thirty pounds of muscle on him.
“Five days. Came up from Chicago.” Cole watched as Finnegan mentally matched that fact against the months-long harassment and made the decision that Cole likely wasn’t involved in the mystery of the roadside carcasses.
But because he was apparently a decent detective, he didn’t drop the issue quite that fast. “Is that your truck in the driveway?”
“Rented it this morning.” Best to give the man whatever he needed. No need to start a pissing contest. The sooner they were done here, the sooner Finnegan could go after the real perpetrator.
“When I first got here,” Cole said, “I wasn’t sure if I wanted a car, how much I’d leave the facilities. But it’s a pretty nice little town. They keep telling us to interact with the local community. Civilians and civilian life and whatnot.”
Not that any of that had been on his mind when he’d decided to stop by the car-rental place. He’d been thinking along the lines of wanting to help Annie.
The detective nodded. “Let me grab a bag.”
As he strode off toward his cruiser, Annie turned to Cole. “Do you think he’ll figure out who did this?”
“Probably not.” Cole silently swore. “Whoever hit the fence wouldn’t have gotten out, so there wouldn’t be fingerprints. The ground is grassy, so the cops can’t take a tire mold. And even if the guy grabbed the roadkill with his bare hands, you can’t take fingerprints off fur.”
He watched the detective check out the front of the rented pickup for damage. He was thorough. That gave Cole some hope.
Finnegan grabbed a black garbage bag and gloves from the trunk of his cruiser.
Annie’s full lips turned down at the corners. “Why are we going through all this, then? I don’t want to waste Harper’s time.”
Harper. They’re on a first-name basis.Cole hadn’t caught that when the detective first showed up. He’d still been back by the fence.
So Annie and Finnegan knew each other. Cole set that thought aside for later. For now, he focused on the fact that Finnegan might work harder for a friend.
“I wanted you to call so there’s a record.” Cole watched the man approach. “So if you need help in an emergency, they’ll know you’re being stalked and threatened. I want them to take you seriously and haul ass.”
“I’ve been threatened?” She turned from Finnegan as he bagged the fox. And before Cole could answer, she said, looking at him at last, “Yes, I feel threatened. I haven’t thought of it like that. Nobody left me a threatening message on my phone or anything.”
Cole gestured toward the bagged fox as Finnegan carried the carcass back to his cruiser. “There’s your message.”
When she shivered—a heartbroken, devastated look on her face—he had this crazy impulse to put his arm around her, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t want that. She’d flinched earlier when he’d grabbed her. He was a big-ass guy, they barely knew each other, and they weren’t exactly friends. And she was on his right. He couldn’t raise his right arm as high as her shoulders.
He kicked at a rock, sending it flying through the tall grass.
When she began walking toward the driveway and Harper Finnegan—who stashed the fox in his trunk—Cole followed her.
“Are you staying here?” the detective asked Annie as he slammed the trunk closed, glancing toward the yellowDONOTCROSStape. “Leila saw the show. Sounds like it was a mess.”
“I’m staying at Hope Hill until Ed Sanders can fix things up.”
“Good idea.” The detective stepped around the back of his cruiser as his radio went off, the lights flashing red on the unit. “If you see anything suspicious, or if you feel like something’s off, making you nervous, call the station. Trust your instincts.”
