Dawn of Eve by MJ Howson (best ereader for students .txt) 📕

me know if you order a pizza. I wolfed down a few tacos earlier, but I could go for a slice or two. No peppers.”

Jacob tossed the headphones back to Sean, stood up, and left the room. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen. After taking another shot of Patron, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the SAM app. Jacob sent a message to Daniel.

Let’s do this. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

Jacob went back to the living room, grabbed his coat and shoes, and brought them to his bedroom. He reviewed the message exchanges with Daniel. Jacob wasn’t too sure about this one. Older married men like him were unpredictable. Half got cold feet and bailed. Others became regular clients. Over time, Jacob had developed a knack for reading the people he met on SAM. He had Carol pegged on day one. She pretended to be nervous, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find she had a dark side. Widows like her almost always became repeat clients.

This guy Daniel, however, felt like a potential flight risk. There was something in his voice when he spoke about his wife. Jacob's expectations were low, but Daniel didn't balk when Jacob sent him his rates. That told Jacob the guy had some deep pockets to spend. He had no idea what Daniel did for work, but it didn't matter as long as he could afford Jacob's fee. He'd have to ask Daniel what he did during their first session together. Jacob sent him a second message.

I promise to be gentle. Name the time and place.

Thirty Two

Betrayed

Dr. Cole inserted a blank cassette, labeled Easton-D 12/13/19 #13,into the old Panasonic recorder sitting on the edge of his desk. He flipped open the manila folder in front of him and began to review the notes from his last session with Dawn. A knock on the door broke his concentration. He looked at the wall clock, surprised to see Dawn was ten minutes early.

“Yes?” Dr. Cole asked. The door opened, and Flo entered, carrying a folder. Luna quickly followed her. Dr. Cole looked past his wife into the empty waiting room. “Did she cancel?”

“No.” Flo stopped in front of her husband’s desk and smiled. “I know you don’t like me researching your patients, but I did some snooping.”

“Flo, we’ve talked about this. Trust is key.”

Flo held the folder out and presented it to her husband. He stared at it and frowned.

“Is this about the kids in that diary?” Dr. Cole asked.

“No. But, I’ve started poking around about that mystery, too.”

“Then what’s this?” Dr. Cole took the folder and placed it on his desk. “I’m afraid to look.”

“What do you know about Evelyn Easton?”

“Dawn’s mother? You know I don’t like to discuss confidential details with you.”

“What about her dad?”

“As I said, Flo, client discussions are–”

“Private. I know.” Flo crossed her arms and stared down at her husband. “Tell me how he died.”

Dr. Cole leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, resting them on his bloated belly. He rocked back and forth, causing the springs beneath him to creak.

“His death is public knowledge, Winston,” Flo said. “Very public, it turns out. I had no idea.”

“About his suicide?”

“Suicide?” Flo rolled her eyes and shook her head. She leaned across the desk and opened the folder. “He was murdered.”

“What?” Dr. Cole frantically flipped through the half dozen papers facing him. “Dawn told me he killed himself. He fell from their terrace.”

“Oh, he fell, all right. He was pushed.”

Dr. Cole began to read through a January 2002 New York Journal article about Stephen Easton’s plunge from his penthouse apartment the night of New Year’s Eve. He licked his finger and flipped to the next article, dated two months later. Dr. Cole read the headline, looked up at his wife, and said, “Evelyn Easton killed her husband?”

“Mm-hmmm.” Flo sighed and ran her hands across her orange and green polka-dot dress. “I guess if we’d been fashion hounds, we would’ve known. Apparently, it was a big issue seventeen years ago. It shook up the fashion world. I wonder what the trends were back then.” She frowned as she let her eyes settle on a loose button on her cuff. “Or now.”

Dr. Cole pushed aside the research his wife had done and began scanning through his session notes. He felt his brow moisten as his mind retraced the family discussions he’d had with Dawn. Dr. Cole sighed as he ran his fingers across the pages, searching for entries about Dawn’s parents.

“She’s been so dismissive about her mother,” Dr. Cole finally said. He looked up at his wife. “All these months telling me how her mother couldn’t handle running the company after her father died and simply went away.”

“Well, that part’s true.” Flo moved her folder back in front of her husband and flipped to the third page of documentation–another news article she’d printed for him. She pointed to the last paragraph. “See.”

Dr. Cole read the passage to himself and said, “Oh my God.”

“That girl is messed up, Winston. She hasn’t told you any of this?”

“No.”

The outer door of the waiting room opened. Flo turned around and frowned as Dawn entered, struggling to push her stroller through the doorway.

“She brought that damn freaky doll again,” Flo said. She looked at her husband and asked, “Are you ready?”

“Not after reading this.” Dr. Cole scratched his beard as he stared at the information Flo had given him. “But you can send her in.”

Flo rolled her eyes and left the office, stopping briefly to collect a defiant Luna. Dr. Cole went back to reading the news article. He tried to ignore the small talk happening in the waiting room. Unfortunately, he could only get halfway through the news report before Dawn wheeled the stroller into his office. Dr. Cole closed the folder as Dawn approached.

“Good morning,” Dr. Cole said. “I see you brought the therapy doll.”

“Eve,” Dawn said. She remained glued