The New Patient (Dr. Epstein's Couch: Criminal Minds Series) by Ann Black Page A

Bob explains.
    I scan the ruled pages and see Monica had dated each page. Her writing was neat and precise. I find June 3 rd and begin to read.
    Monica’s thoughts are deep and it’s clear she’s riddled with guilt and neuroses. She was a perfectionist full of self-doubt and criticism ... a worrying combination given her daily debate about whether or not life was worth living.
    Kyle made contact with her in late June, soon after his release. He borrowed money and wanted to score some drugs. He was obviously thinking about making contacts in the criminal world. Monica was a means to an end.
    She tried to separate herself but he managed to manipulate her into believing his rage was uncontrollable and that if she didn’t help him, someone would get hurt. He convinced her to meet me and to use our meetings to find out more information about me.
    Monica writes about her guilt and feelings of entrapment. She also wrote about loving me and fantasised a great deal about our future. She didn’t give Kyle what he wanted, and in late July, he raped the 17 year old near his new address. He told her it was her fault.
    When I ended our relationship, she told Kyle. At their meeting on the day of her death he told her that he planned to rape and murder a twelve-year-old...and that it was her punishment for displeasing him.
    I snap the diary shut.
    “When can we move on the operation?” I ask coldly, handing the diary back to Bob.
    “If your still up for it, it’d be good if we could go today. Too big a pain in the ass to deal with the man hours and funds and all that shit if we have to change it,” he answers.
    I nod. “I want this over. Hopefully Kyle will start to do his own dirty work,” I say.
    “Our Undercover Ops say the big boys aren’t willing to give him anymore of their resources. He’s not a good supplier anymore and the drive-by was more of a warning than a serious attempt. If he had real power the hit would’ve been better targeted and a lot more fucking dangerous than firing into a house when everyone’s probably in fuckin’ bed.” Bob shakes his head and sits back, “Word is, Kyle is on the outer and I’m willing to bet he’s very pissed. If he wants you dead he’s gonna have to do it himself, no other bastard seems to want to.”
    “Good.”
     

     
    3:00pm
    I finally pull onto the Highway and begin my journey North to Kinglake National Park. I feel anticipation spreading through my body as I run over the operational logistics we’d covered before my departure. I visualise where I’m supposed to set up camp for the next few days.
    According to undercover operations, Kyle received ‘leaked’ news of my relocation. And the media interest was bound to work in our favour, especially since my car was filmed pulling out of the driveway.
    Not for the first time I wish I had a gun, but I know I’ll have to make do with my best camping knife. Checking my mirrors, I can see plenty of traffic but I can’t tell whether any have been following me.
    The decision to go bush was aimed at making me seem isolated and especially vulnerable. Hopefully, Kyle will take the bait.
     

     
    5:30pm
    The air smells clean and I take a moment to enjoy the sound of the birds and the distant tinkling of water. I finish hammering the last peg into the ground and tighten my tent fly.
    Bob and his team couldn’t have chosen a better location for the operation. I’m far enough into the bush to be isolated from other campers, yet the team can observe my site from the height of nearby crevices and rocky outcrops covered in greenery.
    My phone rings and I notice its Bob. “Hey, Doc, enjoying the view?” he asks.
    “It’s not bad, Bob. Has anyone spotted Kyle?” I ask.
    “Not yet,” he answers, “But we don’t expect this to go down like that anyway,” he adds.
    “I know, but I can’t help wondering.”
    “Just sit tight, Doc. We got a shit load of man hours built into this thing. The brass will do anything to keep the