by Hanna Noble
The Phantom had changed everything.
A few weeks ago, for reasons she couldn’t explain, Naomi had connected with a dark energy that had torn through her mental defenses and invaded her mind with a horror she’d never forget. No matter how many times Cole asked her, she couldn’t explain why she’d only connected to the sixth attack and none of the previous ones. It’s not like she wanted to see these sorts of things in the first place.
A thirst for violence whispered through her, filled with a slick, oily malice, jolting her back to the present. She sat up, wary, a shiver of fear skittering up her spine. Straining forward, she tried to pinpoint the source broadcasting this dark malevolence.
He was going to enjoy teaching that bitch a lesson tonight.
She gasped, hearing the words clearly spoken in her mind.
“Naomi?” Owen turned to her, concerned.
“Stop the car.” She looked around, afraid that she would lose this thread, that it would disappear and they would be left with nothing. She was grateful when Cole pulled over, bringing the car to a halt in front of a small park. She saw a few joggers, a young mother with her kids and…
“There.” Her Knowing flared again as soon as she spotted the man sitting on a bench near the entrance of the park, the sense of violence amplifying. He was tall and muscular; his eyes shielded behind a pair of reflective sunglasses.
“He’s wearing a red baseball cap,” she said, her heart pounding. Just like her vision.
Cole turned back to face her, his expression neutral. “It’s a Red Sox cap. Everyone in this city probably has that hat.”
“Do you think he’s our guy?” Owen leaned forward to get a better look.
“I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about him.” She wasn’t sure it meant anything, but… “He wants to hurt a woman. He’s looking forward to it.” She felt sick at the thought.
“I don’t know if a feeling is enough of a reason to question someone, especially in this part of town.” Owen’s tone was gentle, and she knew he was trying to be supportive. “This neighborhood is known for its drug activity. It’s not the best place to piss someone off without cause.”
Naomi stared at the man on the bench again, her senses focused. Was it him? Could he be the man who had pulled her into his depraved mind? She didn’t know, was frustrated at her inability to provide them with something more concrete.
“It could be him. He wants to hurt a woman. Tonight.” She could hear the plea in her own voice but couldn’t stop it. “He’s wearing a red baseball cap. We’re in Field’s Corner. It makes sense, doesn’t it? That we’re here and I’m getting this vibe? What if it’s him, and we let him go? What if he kills someone else tonight?”
Cole stared at her for a long minute without speaking, and she knew he was weighing his options in the face of this very slim possibility. The idea of going back with nothing made her stomach lurch, especially when the man in question was in their sights. They had to take this chance, and Naomi had to convince them.
“He’s wearing a red hat, just like my vision,” she said again, rubbing her hands, feeling ice cold. She would not think about another woman falling prey to this monster.
“It won’t hurt to ask him a few questions,” Cole said finally, glancing over at Owen. “I mean, she’s right. We’re here and she’s feeling some sort of thing and he’s wearing a red cap. I know it’s not a solid lead, but it’s better than anything we have. What do you think?”
Naomi felt a rush of relief as Owen nodded. “I guess a few questions won’t hurt, but hanging around this area after committing a crime would be a long shot.”
“Stay in the car.” Cole ordered as he called Leah and Shauna, filling them in on their plan. “We’ll be right back.”
She watched Cole and Owen approach the man, flashing their badges. She squinted to see what was going on, but they were too far away and she couldn’t read lips.
Suddenly the man jumped up and sprinted away, taking cover in the tall trees that lined the park, running beyond her view. Leah and Shauna’s car squealed into action, and she knew they would try to intercept him on the other side. She waited, the minutes passing in agonizing slowness, her senses strained and alert. A series of bangs ripped through the quiet. Gunshots. The police radio crackled to life, and she heard Leah, her voice calm but urgent.
“Shots fired, shots fired. Requesting backup to Geneva Cliffs. Three suspects, armed. Detectives Walker, Chapman, and Hamilton in pursuit.”
Naomi sat up straight, the oppressive weight of dread mixing with the humidity, making her nauseous. Cole’s voice on the radio startled her, the panic in his tone making her heart pound wildly. “Officers down, officers down. Requesting ambulance and immediate backup!”
Shauna.
The Knowing washed through her, and Naomi understood immediately that the detective with the brash personality and sarcastic quips had been badly injured. Owen. He’d been hurt too. Oh God, what was happening? The wail of sirens grew closer, and she saw two police cars and an ambulance race by.
A flurry of motion had her turning to see Cole sprint back towards her. He jerked open the door and slid behind the wheel, taking out the hidden bubble siren and placing it on the dashboard of the car. He didn’t say anything as he turned it on and hit the gas pedal, the car lurching into the street.
“Cole?” Naomi didn’t know what to do, was consumed with worry about Owen and Shauna.
He didn’t spare her a glance, completely focused on driving. “The guy you saw is a drug dealer, he had some friends waiting for him in the park. They didn’t like us asking questions. Things escalated.” His voice tensed. “Shauna’s been hit. Owen, too. They’re on their way to the hospital. We’ve got the guy in custody now.”
Naomi struggled to keep her breathing even. Cole was silent, and she let him be, knowing he needed to concentrate on the road, especially at the speed they were going. Her fingers shook as she texted Michelle, letting the other woman know what had happened. It was fifteen minutes before they made it to the hospital, but it felt like a lifetime. In the emergency room, Leah waved them over.
“They’re in surgery.” Leah’s face was ashen, and Naomi could see flecks of blood on the other woman’s collar, red stains on her shirt. She felt her stomach roil. “Owen got hit in the shoulder, but they think it’s a clean shot, didn’t hit anything vital. Shauna—” Leah’s voice broke, and Cole moved to hug her. “Shauna got hit pretty bad in the neck. It doesn’t look good.”
“Come sit down,” Cole urged, leading Leah back to the waiting room outside the surgical unit. “It’ll be alright.”
Naomi followed them, rattled to see the normally composed detective so shaken. She didn’t know what to do, decided to pace outside the front door waiting for Michelle to arrive.
“Nay!”
Naomi spotted Michelle sprinting towards the entry way, pale-faced, her brown eyes filled with panic.
“Is he ok?”
“He’s in surgery,” Naomi managed, her voice thick. “We’re waiting for news.”
“Is he going to…I mean can you see if he’s…are they…” Michelle struggled to form the question, but Naomi understood what she was asking, hated the answer she had to give.
“I can’t tell,” she said, her heart clenching in her chest. “I’m trying. I’m so sorry, I don’t know.”
“It’s ok,” Michelle reached out to rubbed Naomi’s arm. “Let’s go inside.”
The next few hours passed with agonizing slowness, punctuated by the arrival of other officers who had come by to get news. Owen’s parents arrived, as did Shauna’s husband. Through it all, Naomi sat next to Cole and Michelle, wishing she had some words to offer, some comfort to share. The Knowing stayed quiet no matter how hard she tried, and she was angry with herself for not being able to see how this day would turn out.
She eyed Cole’s profile as he sat silent and still beside her, his eyes fixed on the clock on the other side of the room. Her hand moved o
f its own accord, resting on top of his. He didn’t say anything, but he did turn his palm over so that he clasped hers, squeezing.
The ring of Cole’s phone sounded shrill in the hush of the waiting room. He released her hand and Naomi felt its absence, embarrassed that while she had wanted to offer comfort, she’d taken it instead. The ring of Cole’s phone sounded shrill in the hush of the waiting room.
“Walker,” he answered, standing up and pacing back and forth, his restlessness reminding her of a caged tiger. “Spit it out, Risso, I don’t have time for riddles. What?” Disbelief evident in his tone, he stopped in his tracks. He didn’t say much after that, just listened. “Ok. I’ll head back to the station as soon as I’m done here.”
“Asshole,” he muttered once he’d hung up. He turned to face Naomi, and she felt the first hints of unease at his stony expression. “That was another detective,” he said his voice low, not meeting her gaze. “They found a body a few hours ago. It’s a woman who was killed last night. It matches his style. The same brand zip ties. There was even a flower.”
Naomi felt a burst of hope that was extinguished with his next words.
“Not a daisy. Not in Field’s Corner. In Allston.” His voice was level, but his eyes were cold. “They found a suspect. He confessed to being the Phantom.”
Naomi was stunned. The Phantom had murdered a woman on the other side of town?
“But, I saw—”
“What you saw was wrong.”
She recoiled at the anger in his voice.
“Wait, Cole, you know that I—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “We followed your advice, driving around town in the wrong neighborhood like total idiots. We de-prioritized other tips, focused solely on Field’s Corner. Questioned people because you got a feeling. I must have been out of my mind. A psychic, for crying out loud.”
“Cole!” Michelle hissed, getting to her feet, looking outraged. “Stop. Keep your voice down.”
Naomi couldn’t speak, the disgust in his voice making her feel small and insignificant, freezing her in place. She had told them she didn’t see in specifics. Owen had said it wouldn’t matter, that they would take anything they could get.
Cole was lashing out, she rationalized; he didn’t really believe that she would deliberately deceive them. This was worry and frustration and anger talking. But her Knowing had never been outright wrong before. Ever.
Now she felt doubt creeping in, making her second-guess everything she had seen. Could she have been wrong? Was she responsible for what had happened here?
“You don’t mean that,” she said, her voice hitching. “You know I told you what I saw.”
“What you told us was wrong.” Cole’s words were like punches. “The suspect in the park wasn’t the Phantom. You pushed us to go talk to him. The woman that was murdered yesterday lived in a completely different neighborhood. There was no suitcase. No tiara. No elephant. No red brick building. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it ends now. I’m going to check on Owen and Shauna. Don’t be here when I get back or, I swear, I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
She stood there long after he was gone, not believing the rage he had spewed her way.
“He’s upset,” Michelle said, glaring after him. “He’ll calm down and see how ridiculous he’s being. Of course, this isn’t your fault.”
But what if it was? Uncertainty was a heavy weight in her stomach.
“I should go,” Naomi said, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “There’s no point in making it worse.”
“Don’t worry,” Michelle said, giving her a sympathetic glance. “You know how hotheaded he can be. Give it a few days and everything will go back to normal. Get some rest. The doctors said both Owen and Shauna’s surgeries were looking good. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Michelle was right. Naomi would go home, call Gabi, and try to get her mind off of everything. In a few days, this situation would blow over and her life would go back to normal.
Chapter One
Great Barrington, MA
8 months later.
March
“And then he has the nerve to criticize my serve,” Shauna said, her voice heated. “Can you believe it? I played varsity all throughout college and this idiot thinks he can give me pointers for our neighborhood intramural league! Who does he think he is?”
Naomi bit her lip to stop herself from smiling, knowing Shauna wouldn’t appreciate her amusement. She avoided making eye contact and focused on the cup of tea in front of her until she was sure she could control her facial expression.
They’d had this little ritual for the past few weeks and Naomi enjoyed Shauna’s company, found the outspoken detective could always make her laugh. She sat back, ready to hear about Shauna’s volleyball practice and her ongoing feud with one of the players on the team.
“He’s an idiot,” Naomi said loyally.
“Yes,” Shauna nodded in satisfaction.
“He has no clue what he’s talking about,” Naomi added.
“Yes.”
“You’re attracted to him.”
“Yes.”
Shauna blinked as she realized what she’d said, and gaped when Naomi burst out laughing.
“Wait, that’s not what I meant!” Shauna was shaking her head in protest.
Naomi raised her brow. “Am I wrong?”
Shauna pointed an accusing finger at her. “Are you reading my mind right now?”
“You know it doesn’t work like that!” Naomi held up her hands. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You’re turning all kinds of red!”
Shauna groaned and covered her face in her hands. “Ok,” she said, her voice muffled. “You got me. He’s hot as hell and I keep messing up during games because I’m too busy picturing him naked.”
“No one can blame you for enjoying the view,” Naomi teased. “Isn’t that the whole point of intramural leagues?”
Shauna dropped her hands and grinned, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “I knew you’d be on my side. He’s just so —holy shit—Naomi what are you doing?”
At Shauna’s exclamation, Naomi looked up, confused. Shauna’s eyes were glued to Naomi’s hand. Following her gaze, Naomi was shocked to see she was holding a sleek, silver pistol.
“What are you doing?” Shauna’s voice was laced with fear. “Where did you get that?”
“I ... don’t know.” Naomi replied, baffled, still looking down at her hand in bewilderment. She could feel the coldness of the metal, the weight of it in her hand, yet she couldn’t remember ever having a weapon in her home, let alone picking it up.
“Put it down,” Shauna said, her voice quiet and authoritative, a reminder that she was a trained cop in addition to being a skilled athlete. “Now.”
Naomi was about to comply, when her hand swung up, moving with a life of its own.
“Oh my God!” Naomi cried, terrified. She’d done this before, she thought, frantic. This had all happened before, and, just like last time, she wasn’t able to stop her arm, wasn’t able to stop what was coming.
“Naomi, what are you—”
Naomi’s finger squeezed the trigger, and a deafening bang made her ears ring. Shauna fell back from the chair, the cup of tea shattering on the ground. Naomi watched in horror as blood started pouring out from a wound in her neck, the red liquid a bright contrast to the white tiles of her kitchen. She dropped the gun with a clatter and dropped to her knees next to Shauna.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she repeated over and over. She knew she should get something to stop the bleeding, to apply pressure to the wound, but she was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to do anything except watch Shauna gurgle and cough, their eyes locked together.
“You shot me,” Shauna whispered, sounding confused as she coughed up blood. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Naomi sobbed. “Shauna, you can’t die. Please don’t die.�
� She cupped Shauna’s face in her hands, could feel the woman’s stuttering heartbeat, the wetness of the blood on her hands. “Shauna,” she said again, but Shauna’s eyes were open and unseeing, and Naomi knew that she was dead. She sat back on her heels, feeling such a deep and unbearable despair that she didn’t think she could go on anymore.
The room shifted and Shauna disappeared. The body was gone, the house eerily silent. She looked down at her hands, surprised they were no longer stained red. Shaking, she got to her feet, bracing herself against the back of the chair, and looked around her kitchen.
“Naomi.” A new voice in the quiet behind her.
Heart pounding, she turned, her gaze landing on the lone figure of a young woman standing by the doorway. She had a slight build and a head of wild auburn curls that fell in disarray around her shoulders. Her long face was dominated by big chocolate brown eyes, filled with a sadness so profound that it tugged at Naomi, echoing inside her. Recognition was a quick, sharp pain. She knew her. Had watched her die in a vision eight months ago.
“No,” Naomi whispered, trying to stay calm, trying to not think too much about what this meant. “What are you doing here?” She tried to keep her voice steady. There was no reply. Goose bumps whispered along Naomi’s skin and she shivered, sinking down into the chair that Shauna had occupied only moments earlier.
“Is this about my last vision?” Naomi didn’t know if she was ready for an answer. Either option would bring a world of hurt with them, and she wasn’t up for another battle, not with her own wounds still raw and bleeding.
“It’s time.” The soft words interrupted her thoughts.
Naomi sat up, alarmed. “Time for what?”
“He’s coming.” The woman stepped closer to Naomi. “It’s not over.”
“Who’s coming? What’s not over?”
