by Hanna Noble
Cole stared at the hat again, his brain turning over this new piece of information. Yacht Club gear? It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. He was startled when Martinez snapped his fingers.
“I remember.” Martinez opened a web browser. “It was a special Winner’s Circle hat from the Mayor’s Annual Regatta.” He pulled up the website. “See? They give the hats to the teams that placed first, second, or third.”
Cole looked at event pictures showing the winning teams wearing hats, but they were not an exact match to the one the killer wore.
“They change the design every year,” Martinez explained, and pointed to the suspect. “That one looks like it’s from a few years ago. It shouldn’t be too hard to compare designs and nail down the year.”
“How helpful is this going to be?” Owen asked. “Who knows how many people tossed the hats or gave them away?”
“Actually,” Martinez countered, “it’s the opposite. The hats are a valuable commodity at the club, the more you have the better.”
Owen nodded. “Ok, so our guy is potentially connected to this event. We can get a list of attendees and maybe something will jump out at us. We don’t really have much of a choice since it’s our only lead.” He rubbed his chin, considering. “I wonder ...”
“What?” Both Cole and Martinez glanced at Owen, who was staring at the image.
“If Amaturo was so devoted to photographing Lily, could it be possible that he also captured this guy in other photos? We know he followed her practically everywhere,” he shrugged. “Maybe he snapped our guy again.”
Martinez looked aghast. “You’re telling me that not only did she have some creep stalking her at work, but some psycho also wanted her dead?” He shook his head. “That woman never had a chance. It’s worth a shot, but that’s going to take a lot of time. We don’t have the capacity to search all his files right now,” he looked apologetic. “You know how it is.”
Owen nodded. “We understand. I’ll take a look myself.” He glanced over at Cole. “I’ll start right now and you can take over afterwards.”
“That works,” Cole said. “I’ll do some more research on the hat, and get a list of names from the club.” He bumped fists with Martinez. “Thanks for your help.”
“Of course.” Martinez handed over the computer and hard drives to Owen. “I hope you catch this prick.”
“I thought Keith Amaturo would be our guy,” Cole said as they walked backed to their desks. “I didn’t think his story would fall apart so fast.”
“I know.” Owen leaned against his desk. “This investigation has been tough from the beginning, especially with all the complications.”
A man in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. A murderer on the loose. Two dead women. A suspicious confession. A psychic. He wasn’t sure complications was the right word, more like a clusterfuck.
Cole’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “It’s Leah. I wonder if she’s made any progress.”
Owen snorted. “It’s Leah,” he retorted. “Of course, she’s made progress.”
Cole picked up. “Tell me you’ve got some good news,” he said without preamble. It wasn’t even lunchtime and their main lead was already gone.
“I’ve got good news,” Leah said, and Cole could hear her excitement. “I have some of Megan’s things, a few boxes with her possessions and her computer. I took them to my place.”
Cole was impressed. “How did you pull that off?” He should have known Leah would find a way to get her hands on the items they needed.
“I told her mother I was secretly vying for a promotion and wanted to review every piece of evidence again because I suspected the killer might have not been working alone.” She paused. “I said we’d gotten an anonymous tip and I wanted to try to see what I could find out even if it probably wouldn’t pan out. She handed me everything she had.”
“Nice,” Cole said, his mood brightening. “That’s great.”
“Thanks. Are we meeting on Friday?”
“Yes,” he said, looking over at Owen. They still needed to figure out how to handle the situation between Leah and Naomi. “Swing by my place after your shift tomorrow.”
He hung up the phone and sighed. “Fuck. One more damn complication.”
Owen glanced over at him. “You mean besides the fact that something obviously happened between you and Naomi?” He smirked. “Let me guess, you guys finally did it.”
Cole gaped at him, realizing he’d made a rookie mistake. Never let them catch you off guard. It was too late to feign innocence.
“I knew it.”
“Shut up, I don’t want to talk about it,” Cole said, turning to look at his computer screen.
“Ouch. Was it that bad?” Owen let out a low whistle. “I’m sorry, man, that totally sucks. Maybe it’s for the best, you know—”
“It wasn’t bad!” he snapped, whirling to glare at Owen, only to realize that he’d been baited. Again. “I hate you right now.”
“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to read,” Owen said, full of cheer. “If it wasn’t a disaster, then that means that you haven’t had ‘the talk’ yet. You’re sniping at me because you don’t know where you two stand.”
“I’m not talking about this with you. And I’m not sniping,” Cole growled, knowing that Owen was right on the money. Damn him.
“Don’t worry about this, you’ll figure it out.” Owen opened Keith’s computer. “In the meantime, we have a random regatta baseball cap to track down and a pervert’s hard drive to look through. Don’t you love this job?”
“You idiot,” Cole said, amused in spite of himself. Owen always managed to lighten his mood. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The rhythmic sound of her feet hitting the pavement eased some of the restlessness that Naomi had been carrying all day. Running always helped her think. It had taken nearly two miles before she felt grounded again, her body comforted by the familiarity of her stride. She needed the time to untangle her thoughts.
Did he regret it? Did she? She sighed, frustrated at her chaotic thoughts. She was overthinking this, when she should be focusing on catching the monster that had robbed Lily of her future.
She hadn’t felt anything from the Phantom since this morning, but she knew he was preparing his next move and that they were running out of time. His savage delight in causing pain was fresh in her mind. She increased her pace, but couldn’t outrun the unease that was building inside her.
“Slow down,” Michelle gasped from beside her, jolting her out of her own thoughts. “You promised me you’d go a normal pace. What’s up with you today? You’re not normally a speed demon.”
“I’m sorry,” Naomi realized she’d been so lost in thought she’d forgotten her friend was trying to keep up. Slowing down to a walk, she took the opportunity to take a deep breath before speaking. “I slept with Cole,” she blurted.
“Ok.” Michelle nodded as though they were discussing the weather. “That explains the weirdness.” A pause. “How was it?”
“You don’t look shocked,” Noami said, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”
“Oh please, the sparks have been flying between you two since you got here. It was only a matter of time. Dammit, Gabi was right, I thought you’d last at least another week. You cost me twenty bucks.” Michelle’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Seems like I overestimated your self-control. Now spill.”
Naomi bit her lip. She’d successfully navigated the treacherous minefields of past mistakes, and had grappled with an emotional pull she couldn’t resist. “It was earth-shattering,” she admitted. “Just…wow.”
She didn’t know if it was the tension from working together on the case, the adrenaline rush of her visions, or even the sexual attraction that had dogged their every interaction—they had exploded together, permanently changing the boundaries of their relationship.
“Very articulate,” Michelle said as they made their way back towards Cole
’s house.
“Thanks. I work in communications. I’m good with words,” Naomi shot back.
“You’ve forgiven him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” She wouldn’t have been able to sleep with him otherwise. “You’re not going to tell me this is a mistake?” Noami couldn’t help the thread of doubt that had crept into her voice.
“You’re a grown-ass woman,” Michelle replied. “You’re smart enough to make your own choices, and my job as one third of the Fearsome Threesome is to have your back no matter what happens. I don’t think it’s a mistake, but it will complicate things.” She tilted her head. “But Nay, look around, the situation is already complicated. Life is complicated.”
“I haven’t talked to him since this morning,” Naomi confessed. “I feel a little awkward.” She spotted Cole’s car in the drive way, and felt a pang of nervousness in her stomach. He was home. She turned to Michelle. “Do you want to stay for dinner? Have a shower?”
“Not a chance,” Michelle replied cheerfully, holding up her hands in front of her. “The first real post-sex conversation is no place for a third wheel. I’ve got some more research to do, so I’m going to leave you to handle Detective Sexy all on your own.”
“But…” Naomi watched helplessly as Michelle got into her car and drove off with a wave, waiting until the she couldn’t see the tail lights before turning to open the front door.
She welcomed the warmth that enveloped her. Delicious aromas teased her senses, and she moved toward the kitchen despite herself to see what he was making.
Cole was standing over the stove, stirring something that smelled so good her stomach growled in response. He turned in surprise and Naomi felt her face heating up.
“Hey.” His voice was warm and welcoming, his grey eyes twinkling. He’d already changed out of his work clothes, and Naomi eyed the navy-blue sweater that showcased his broad shoulders.
“Hey yourself.” She managed a weak smile. “I was out for a run.”
“I gathered as much, being a professional detective and all.” He looked her up and down. “The running shoes gave it away. Where’s Michelle?”
“She had to get back to the labs.” She forced herself to offer a causal smile. “I’m going to shower and change.”
“Ok, take your time. Dinner’s ready whenever you are.” He flashed that devastating smile again, the one that gave him a boyish look, and Naomi felt her heartbeat jump in response. Turning, she climbed the steps, anticipating the warmth of the water on her cold skin.
She felt much better after a hot shower.
Wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, she padded back to her bedroom, stopping at the sight of a glass of red wine sitting on her desk. Lips curving, she took a sip of the dark ruby liquid, savoring the spicy taste.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. A little womanly armor was called for, she decided. She added some mascara and a touch of lipstick. Nothing major, but enough for her to feel more polished. She pulled on a pair of black jeans and a cream sweater and made her way downstairs, glass in hand, feeling more in control.
There was soft music playing, and there were lit candles on the table.
“Smells good,” she said, perching on one of the stools by the counter. She watched him add spices to a pot. “Thanks for making dinner.”
“You’re very welcome. It’s ready.”
It was a simple meal, a warm Moroccan chickpea soup, thick with vegetables and flavored with ginger and garlic. It was accompanied by a mouthwatering loaf of freshly baked bread still warm from the oven. It was the perfect complement to her long run and Naomi savored each delicious bite.
“How did it go today with Keith Amurato?” she asked, breaking a piece of bread in half.
“Let’s not talk about work right now.” Cole reached over to refill her wineglass. “I just want to have a nice meal with you.”
She was surprised. “But the case—”
“Can wait for a little while,” he interrupted. “We’ve been focused on nothing but the case for the past few days. I think we can take a break for an hour. I need to clear my head. Let me woo you a bit.”
“Woo?” She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “You want to woo ... me?”
He nodded. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk today after we”—he cleared his throat—“after we made love.” He frowned. “I’m sorry I had to leave in such a rush this morning. I wanted to stay.”
Naomi felt her heart melting. She wasn’t the only one struggling with the changes between them. He was making an effort to ... romance her. To carve out a few hours where they could be themselves, where labels like detective and psychic weren’t welcome. She liked that idea very much.
“You can make it up to me now,” she said, smiling. “Carry on. Woo away.”
“Excellent.” He grinned and looked pleased with himself. “I shall commence the wooing at once.” His expression shifted into an appraising look, his eyes full of unspoken desire and she felt her own body heat up in response. Cole in detective mode was dangerous enough, but Cole in seduction mode?
Deadly.
True to his word, she felt wooed. Putting aside any talk of murder and police conspiracies, the conversation instead focused on their likes and dislikes, their hopes and dreams. They had messed up the order, but it seemed like they were on their first date.
Cole was easy to talk to and an excellent listener. She figured it was a skill he’d honed in the interrogation room, but he had a knack for making her feel as though she were the only person in the world. He made her comfortable enough to open up and tell stories about her work and her past. They shared a mutual love of travel, watching documentaries, and trying different cuisines.
It was like living in a parallel universe where the two of them had met under normal circumstances. Naomi liked Cole’s sense of humor, his grasp of political events, and his love of cooking. She was being seduced and enjoying it immensely.
She could easily become addicted to the nuances of his personality, a mix of focused intensity and playful teasing that kept her on her toes. No other man would do anymore, she realized with a start; each facet of him was pulling her closer, making it harder to walk away.
“That was the perfect meal for a cold day,” she said, pushing away her bowl, feeling satisfied. “I hope winter doesn’t last too much longer. I’m ready for warm weather.”
He grinned. “I debate leaving the city every year around this time. I love summer in the city. What’s your favorite thing to do when it gets hot?”
“Anything on the water,” she replied. “I’m not a very good sailor, but I’m an excellent passenger.” She tilted her head, puzzled as a dark expression crossed his face. “What is it?”
“I totally forgot.” He ran a hand through his hair. “After our workout last time, you told me you attended the Mayor’s Regatta every year?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, unsure of why he was suddenly so serious. “This has something to do with the case,” she guessed.
He nodded, and she could feel his regret. “I’m sorry, Naomi.”
“Don’t be.” She reached out a hand and touched his. “We needed a break, but we can’t stay away for too long—this is too important and that’s why I’m here. But thank you for a lovely dinner.” She started to clear the table, knowing it would soon revert back to their working headquarters.
“Naomi.” He stepped closer and took the plates from her hands, placing them back on the table. “Before we shift back to official business there’s something I want to do.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers in a feather-light kiss. “I had a nice time with you.” He pulled her close and held her against him for a minute. She savored the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms.
He leaned back far enough to look at her without letting go. “So, were you wooed?”
“Well wooed,” she managed. The fact that he could turn her world upside down with a kiss was something she need
ed to think about. Heaven help her if he ever found out how effective his kisses were—he’d exploit that weakness without mercy.
“If this detective thing doesn’t work out, you can probably pursue a lucrative career in wooing,” she said as she took a step back, warming at the sound of his chuckle.
They cleared the table and Naomi took her usual seat, watching as Cole joined her with a pad of paper, pens, and a few case files. “What did you want to know about the regatta? I’ve attended a few, but I think the last one was a few years ago.”
“We confirmed that Keith Amurato wasn’t our guy,” he told her, and she could hear his disappointment. “But thanks to your vision we were able to find this.” He slid a photograph from one of the folders over to her. “This is the killer.”
Naomi’s breath hitched as she looked at the photograph. There he was. The evil that lurked in her brain was casually sitting on a bench outside of Lily’s building.
“Do you see anything familiar?” Cole asked.
She looked at the photograph again, not making a move to touch it. She was too afraid of rekindling the connection to such a depraved mind. She squinted and leaned closer. You couldn’t really make out his face; it was thrown into shadow by the baseball cap on his head. She immediately recognized his baseball cap logo.
“That’s from the Mayor’s Regatta Winner’s Circle,” she said, looking up at him. “Two years ago. I remember because the year before that they had a really ugly logo design so the club contracted a big firm to redo the design instead of leaving it up to volunteers.”
Cole nodded. “It’s also a red baseball cap, Naomi, just like your first vision.”
Another link to prove she had been right, another small confirmation that her abilities had never led her astray. She didn’t know what to say, was already processing everything she had learned. The killer was wearing a red cap from the Yacht Club.
“He was there,” she said, aghast. “You think he might have been at the regatta.” She was stunned. Could it be that she had crossed paths with the killer? She had spent so many hours wondering, dissecting the how and why this had happened to her. “Is that what it was?” she murmured to herself. “Did I just happen to get caught in his mental echo?”
