by Hanna Noble
“Yes.” Cole kneeled in front of the coffee table and started looking at the pictures in Owen’s timeline. Each woman’s face was a reminder of his failure to keep them safe. “Your vision is the only thing that links the Phantom to Lily. For now.” There was always a trail of evidence, and this time he would find it.
“Does Leah know?”
Cole cringed at Naomi’s question; it had been a point of debate between him and Owen.
“No, for now we wanted to keep this among the three of us.” Leah was only beginning to recover from the loss of her partner; the last thing they wanted to do was reopen old wounds.
“I understand,” Naomi said, her expression somber. Shauna’s death was a heavy weight on all of them. She tilted her head, and waited. “So?”
“So, I want you to come back to Boston and see if you can get any more hits to figure this thing out.”
“Hits?”
Cole shrugged at her raised eyebrows. “Hits, visions, whatever. I’m not up to speed on the latest paranormal terminology.” He made a mental note to check out the paranormal category on Amazon when he got home. “You can school me later.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Naomi fidgeted with her hands.
“What, schooling me?” he joked, misunderstanding her on purpose in an attempt to lighten the mood. “How else am I supposed to learn?”
“You know what I mean. Going back to Boston. Helping with an investigation. Working together.” She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Owen beat him to it.
“I know it’s a big ask,” he said, shooting Cole a look that said, shut it. “Especially after what this cost you.” Owen ran a hand through his hair. “The Chief banned us from contacting you in any professional capacity. No one can know we’re here. We wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t serious. If we didn’t believe there was a dangerous predator still on the loose. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think you could help.”
He was good, Cole thought, and sat back, happy to let his partner take charge.
“No one has to know you’re back in Boston. We can keep you out of sight.” Owen looked as if he were talking about the weather rather than trying to convince a skittish woman to put aside considerable fears. “Lily came to you, she believed you’d help bring her killer to justice.”
“I don’t use my abilities in that way anymore. I can’t.” She shook her head, her eyes bright with pain. “I won’t. It’s too high a risk. I won’t be responsible for someone in that way again. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
Chapter Five
Naomi willed herself to calm down. She wouldn’t cry in front of anyone, let alone these two men. Using her gifts in that way was no longer a part of her life. She felt unsettled, as if all the feelings she’d experienced in the past few months had coalesced into this one moment.
Cole was still trying to convince her. “You have a gift, Naomi. You—”
“Don’t.” She jumped to her feet, startled when both men did as well. She held up a hand. “Don’t you dare tell me I have a gift. You didn’t even believe me. You just want to use me again, and you think I wouldn’t know? That I couldn’t tell you figured an apology would soften me up?” She saw from his guilty expression that she was right. He’d take what he could from her and then toss her aside the second things got inconvenient.
She took a step back, putting more distance between them. Her house was small; with the three of them, it felt like the walls were closing in on her. She felt fear and reached for fury instead.
“I let you into my home out of respect for a murdered woman.” She glared at Cole, feeling months of turmoil boil over.
“You,” she said, pointing at him. “You thought you knew who and what I was from the start. You never gave me the benefit of the doubt and were dying for me to make a mistake so you could say I told you so.” She shook with anger. “You promised me you’d keep my identity a secret and then all but announced I was psychic at the hospital. I lost my job because of your comments. I lost my friends. I lost my home. I had to leave the damn city to escape the hatred hurled my way.”
She clenched her fists by her side.
“Have you ever had someone throw rocks at your window? Scratch your car? Leave you death threats?” She saw Cole’s eyes narrow in anger, but she didn’t care. “What, did you think I left Boston voluntarily? Did you think I cut my hair because it was the latest style?” She could hear herself shouting, but couldn’t stop. “I left because I didn’t feel safe! People thought I was a monster! They thought I would hurt people on purpose. You did that to me.” She looked at him directly. He didn’t move, his expression impassive.
Her gaze moved to Owen.
“The worst part,”—she forced her voice to lower, hating that it shook — “was that you both thought I was capable of misleading a police investigation. Owen, I’ve been friends with your sister for years, and you still thought I could do something that terrible.” She shook her head. “I was devastated thinking I was responsible for you getting hurt. I blamed myself for months.” Owen looked gutted, but she couldn’t stop the words. She had waited too long to say them.
She faced them both. “You don’t know what that did to me.” It had hurt her so badly that there were moments she didn’t think she’d be able to put herself back together again.
“You took my Knowing, something that was as vital to me as breathing, and made it dirty. You took my own heartbeat and used it against me.” She shook her head. “Now that you know I’m not scum, now that you have evidence that I’m not a sociopath, you think it’s ok to ask for my help? You want me to work with you? To trust you?” She laughed, and the sound was brittle and hollow to her own ears. “It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic. If I hadn’t imagined this very situation a hundred times. You coming to my door and telling me that you believed in me, that you trusted me. You know what, fuck you both. You’re about eight months too late.”
She walked over to the door and yanked it open. “Get out. Both of you. Leave me alone. There are too many dead women between us. I won’t add any more.”
Owen gathered the pictures and documents and placed them back in the folder. Naomi followed them to the door, wanting them gone.
“The hell with this,” Cole muttered, reaching out to slam the door shut. He whirled so quickly that Naomi took a startled step back.
“I asked you to leave,” she said, still fighting with the emotional backlash of her temper-driven outburst. “Now.”
“Not before I say my piece.” Cole looked furious, and Naomi’s stomach clenched. “Yes, I thought you were a liar. I thought you were a fraud, someone who only wanted the thrill of playing detective. I didn’t know you, and I didn’t know anything about you. I knew other people who claimed to be what you were, who claimed they could do what you do.”
“I was Michelle’s friend. She tried to vouch for me,” Naomi reminded him.
“Do you think friends don’t lie to each other? In my line of work, I see liars every day. People who cheat and kill and then lie about it to their families without breaking a sweat. To me, you’re lying until proven innocent. I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit in with your idealistic views of the world, but that’s how I survive in mine. I was worried about Owen, worried you had ulterior motives.” He shoved a hand through his hair, and looked at his partner. Naomi saw his gaze linger on Owen’s shoulder, where the big man had gotten shot.
“I didn’t trust you,” he continued. “Your tips could have been lucky breaks. A few insights aren’t enough to change a lifetime of belief.” Cole sighed. “And what was I supposed to think when I get a call from the station telling me they not only have a body, but it has the same MO as the guy we’re supposed to be looking for, and they have the guy that did it?” He shrugged his shoulders. “They had evidence that tied him to the murder, that confirmed he was the Phantom. Hell, he confessed
. They convicted the guy, and the attacks stopped. How was I supposed to look at all of that and still think you were right?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this, but I was doing what I thought was right at the time. When I realized there was a possibility that he was still out there, I knew I had to see you. To tell you. I can’t say I’m a believer, Naomi, but I am sorry. I don’t know how many times I have to say it until you believe me, but it’s true.”
“Everything I had in Boston is gone,” she said, feeling his words cut into her heart. Maybe from his perspective he had done what he thought was best, but dammit she had deserved the chance to defend herself, deserved the benefit of the doubt. An apology couldn’t fix that, she thought, grieving once again the loss of the life she knew.
“I know.” He looked at her. “I wasn’t thinking. I ran my mouth in public. I don’t know how the press got hold of it, but it was my fault. I never intended to reveal your abilities.”
“I’m sorry too, Naomi,” Owen said, coming to stand beside Cole. “Michelle tried to tell me I was wrong, but I didn’t know what to think. The evidence was ...” he trailed off.
“Damning,” she said, hurting for all of them and this twisted situation that fate had put them in. “It was damning. I get it.”
“My getting shot was not your fault—” Owen started, but Naomi held up a hand.
“I don’t think I can get into that now. This particular subject will have to wait for the next round.” She gestured back to the living room, and they took up their former positions before emotional World War III had taken place. “Let’s all take a step back for a minute, ok?”
“My answer is still no,” she said, looking at them, willing them to understand. “I still picked the wrong guy last time, based on something I saw, and... Shauna.” She forced herself to say it. To remind her of the hurt and guilt she always felt when thinking of the cop who’d had her life cut short. Because of her. “I can’t risk that again.” Naomi had enough blood on her hands. “I’m leaving town in two days. I’m moving to San Diego.”
There was silence at her words.
“What’s in San Diego?” Owen asked.
“A chance to start over.” Naomi gestured to the papers on the table between them. “An opportunity to get away from all this. I’m going to join Gabi’s communication firm. I’m done with this part of my life. For good.”
“Naomi.” Cole’s tone was hesitant, his expression earnest. “The three of us, we’re each carrying around our fair share of guilt and regret,” he said. “But I think we have an opportunity here to fix this, to somehow make things right for the six women that he assaulted. For Lily and Megan and Shauna. And for us.” He paused. “I have no right to ask you to delay your trip, but I’m going to. I can’t stand the idea of him being out there. Stay here a bit longer. Help us get some answers. Please.”
He made redemption sound so easy. She wanted nothing more than to be free of the constant guilt, helplessness, and regret that had haunted her for the past eight months. She was tired of denying her instincts and intuition, fighting against who and what she was.
Now she had a choice. She could send them away, move to San Diego and start over. As Gabi had said, she didn’t owe anyone anything. But she’d be lying if Lily and Shauna weren’t still haunting her, if this chapter of her life remained unfinished. If she stayed, would she find the closure that had eluded her? Would she prove to herself that her abilities weren’t a curse? Would she regret not trying one more time to make things right?
“If we do this,” she asked after a minute or so, already knowing what his answer would be, “what’s our next move?”
“You come back and we finish this.”
Back to the place where she’d lost everything. Could she do this?
“How would this work,” she wondered out loud. There were logistics to figure out. She wouldn’t be able to stay with Michelle, as the post-secondary housing at MIT required visitors to present valid identification and prohibited overnight stays of more than three consecutive days. She glanced over at Owen. “Where would I stay?”
The big man looked sheepish. “You know you’re always welcome at my place,” he said rubbing the back of his neck with his hands. “But I’m in the middle of renovating my kitchen, and the entire house in unlivable. I’m bouncing between Cole’s and Michelle’s myself.”
Owen was always in the middle of a project. What had started as manual labor to cope with his grief after the death of his wife, had turned into a hobby, and, occasionally, a side business. Naomi couldn’t deny that he was built for it – she could picture him ripping fixtures from cement walls and hauling around heavy equipment with ease. Still, this development meant that both Chapmans were out of the equation.
Which only left her with…
Cole cleared his throat, and Naomi, with great reluctance and dread, turned to face him.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” he said. “But I have a spare bedroom. You can stay with me. No one will know you’re here.”
Stay with Cole? In his house? In his space? The two of them alone in close quarters? Naomi felt her pulse jump at the idea of sleeping under the same roof. It was a level of intimacy she was unprepared for.
Cole’s lips quirked at her expression. “Well, don’t look so happy about it.”
Naomi felt her face heat up. Thank goodness she was the only one who could read minds here, or she would be mortified. “Sorry.” He was right, if she wanted to remain inconspicuous she didn’t have many options.
“It’s ok.” Cole grinned, his rugged face looking suddenly boyish. “My ego will survive. Trust will take time.” His voice turned gentle. “As will forgiveness.”
“Let’s not make this about forgiveness.” She stood, breaking his gaze. She didn’t want to hear that tone in his voice, didn’t want to see his sincerity. “This has nothing to do with you or me. This is about Shauna, Lily, Megan, and the other women that monster assaulted. Nothing else.” She made a decision. “I’ll move my flight to San Diego, and give you one month. We can reassess at that point.”
“We’ll take what we can get.”
“I need complete transparency on the case. You keep me in the loop. No secrets.”
“Ok.”
“I reserve the right to leave at any time, with no questions asked.”
“Of course.”
She distrusted Cole’s easy acquiescence. “Why are you being so agreeable?”
“I’m an agreeable guy.”
She didn’t buy his innocent-guy act for a second.
Dammit, she was not looking forward explaining this new development to either Gabi or Michelle. She turned away and led them back to the door. “Thanks for stopping by detectives. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”
Chapter Six
Cole caught himself fussing with the same table lamp for the third time and forced himself to stop and sit down. He sighed and looked at his watch, noting the time hadn’t changed much in the ten seconds since he’d last checked. It was close to eight o’clock at night, and Naomi was due to arrive at any minute.
She had said yes. Despite the fear he’d seen in her eyes, despite the doubts she’d voiced and the ones she hadn’t, she’d agreed to come back into the mix, to work with him again. The tentative knock at the door had him jerking to his feet, suddenly nervous.
She was here.
He opened the door and Naomi walked in, looking as unsure as he felt. “Come in,” he said, taking her suitcase and laptop bag, trying not to let his gaze linger on her face. He saw her glance at the art he’d hung on the wall, a few framed photographs of Boston taken by a local photographer, and found himself squirming, wanting her to like his home.
“Your room is this way.” Unsure of what else to say or do, he settled for carrying her luggage to the guest bedroom upstairs. It was medium-sized, furnished with a queen bed and a small desk next to a window overlooking his tree
-lined street.
His mother had insisted on helping him decorate the brownstone, picking out the dark navy-blue comforter, matching throw pillows, and knickknacks that were placed around the room. “The bathroom is across the hall. My room is down at the end of that hallway. Kitchen and living room are downstairs. There’s a basement gym you can use.”
She still looked lost.
It was clear they were both out of their comfort zones.
“This is awkward,” he said, shoving a hand through his hair. Sometimes you had to call it like you saw it. Naomi looked up at him, surprised. “This whole situation is bizarre,” he added.
“No kidding.” She sat on the bed, clasping her hands in her lap. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.” It was an honest admission, and he appreciated her frankness. “I don’t know how to be normal here. We’re roommates, but not. Colleagues, but not.” She paused. “We’re certainly not friends.”
“Maybe it will be different this time around.” He leaned against the doorway. “We need to give it some time. I want you to feel comfortable here. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
Cole knew they would have to contend with their rocky past, not to mention their unusual dynamic of psychic and detective. Despite his impatience, he knew that regaining her trust was a process he couldn’t rush or force. It would happen in its own time.
“Being treated like a guest will drive me crazy.” She looked pensive. “We’ll share the cleaning, cooking, and expenses. Common areas are neutral zones and bedrooms are obviously private. If the door is closed, it means do not disturb. Agreed?”
He nodded. If these boundaries would make her feel at ease then he’d agree to just about anything. Except... “You’re not paying expenses. No arguments,” he said when she opened her mouth to do just that. “You’re doing me, and by extension the city of Boston, a big service, so it’s the least I can do. Let me do this, Naomi,” he said when she looked like she was still going to fight with him. “I have a lot to make up for.”
