by Hanna Noble
“What are you talking about?” Cole interrupted her musings. “What echo?”
She struggled to put her thoughts into words.
“I could never figure out why I caught his mental pattern, why I was connected to him,” she said, glancing at the picture in front of her. “I’ve always had my abilities, but it was never like that. I’d never seen anything that visceral until last summer. He must have been there. That’s the only explanation I can think of.” She looked up at Cole as some of the pieces had fallen into place. “I must have been in close proximity and somehow tapped into him.”
“Did you go to the regatta last year?”
“Yes,” Naomi nodded. “Now that I think about it, that was right before...” She stared at Cole as the dates in her mind lined up.
“Right before you had the vision that sent you to Owen.”
She’d had the vision a few days after the Gala. It made a horrible kind of sense.
Cole reached over for another file. “The Yacht Club confirmed it was the hat from two years ago and they’ve provided us with a list of attendees for the last three regattas. Apparently, the hats are a tradition at a special reception cocktail for those who were directly involved in the race—owners, crew, investors.” He pulled a piece of paper out. “The gala has about four hundred members but the Winner’s Circle is considerably smaller, only one hundred people. Here’s the list.” He pushed half of the sheets toward her. “Take these, see if anything jumps out at you.”
Naomi scanned the list, seeing a veritable who’s who of Boston society, but she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and her Knowing remained quiet. She shrugged and shook her head at Cole as they exchanged their half of the list.
She read a few pages of names without getting anything. It wasn’t until she reached the last page that the Knowing flared, and she felt a pulse run through her. It was the same fluttering, weak-in-the-knees feeling she had felt when she had looked at Megan’s picture before. She tilted her head, considering.
“What do you sense?” Cole asked, his attention on her. She should be used to his ability to spot even the slightest shifts in her demeanor by now.
She frowned. “I can’t tell who it’s linked to exactly, but there’s something about this page.” She handed it over to him.
“Risso is on here,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I would have thought it was above his pay grade.” He scanned the rest of the list. “The mayor, the district attorney, and the Police Chief are all on here, too. They all sat at the same table.”
“There are about twenty other names, too,” Naomi reminded him. “Put it aside for now, and we’ll come back to it later. Did you find anything on your list?”
“A few of my grandmother’s friends.” He looked up. “Eli is here, too.”
“Leah’s brother?” Naomi had never met him, but had heard Leah mention him often.
“I should have remembered that he went to these things. He’s a part owner of one of the boats. I’ll ask him for his take on your list. See if he knows anything that can help us.”
“Getting an insider’s perspective makes sense,” she said, stretching her neck. The Phantom would have to make a mistake eventually, right?
“Naomi,” Cole cleared his throat. “Speaking of Leah...”
She didn’t like the way Cole paused, as if searching for the right words to break bad news.
“What about her?”
“Owen and I think it’s time to bring her in fully. She’s been making good progress on Megan’s case.”
His eyes searched her face for a reaction, but Naomi felt numb. She didn’t know how she should feel at the prospect of seeing Leah again. Their friendship had dissolved under Leah’s blazing fury after Owen’s injury and Shauna’s death. Naomi could still remember the betrayal in the other woman’s expression as they stood in the hospital waiting for news. They hadn’t spoken since.
“Naomi?” She felt Cole’s hand on her hers. He was tense, concerned. “Say something.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “It makes sense to have more help, but I don’t know how to talk to her. She thinks I’m a fraud.” She looked down at the table, feeling miserable. “She was devastated last time. When is she coming?”
“Tomorrow night. She’s coming here.”
So soon, she thought. Not nearly enough time to compose herself and think about what she would say, how she would act. “What are you going to tell her?”
“The truth. Everything,” Cole said. “She’s earned our trust. She’ll want to see this through. She’ll probably feel as bad as I did. If you don’t want to see her, I’ll understand. Your choice.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound.” If this would help the case then she would do it, even if the thought of seeing Leah look at her in disgust again made her stomach churn. “I’ll be there.”
Cole sighed. “I hate that I keep putting you in these situations,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
She smiled at that. “Last time I checked, I didn’t need your permission. I’m here because I want to be. Otherwise I’d leave and go far, far away.”
“Don’t.” He leaned in closer to her.
“Don’t what?” she asked, bemused.
“Joke about going far away. I don’t like it.”
The answer surprised her, and she glanced at the seriousness on his face. “Cole ...”
“I don’t want you to go away.” He reached out a hand to hers again and she felt his warm, rough palm against hers.
“Ok.” She kept her tone light, but intertwined her fingers with his. Another thread between them, another connection tying them closer together. “I won’t. For now.”
“That’s a binding verbal contract. I’ll hold you to it,” he warned, and she smiled, glad to see a teasing glint in his eyes again.
“Fine, hold me to it.” She shook her head in amusement. “Who’s the lawyer now?”
He laughed and raised her hand to his lips, brushing it with a kiss. “I’m surprised you agreed so easily. Aren’t women supposed to be pushing to define the status of a relationship?”
“Thanks for that sexist insight,” she said, affronted, despite the fact that she’d been secretly thinking the same thing hours before. “Maybe I’m fine without defining anything.”
“Are you?” All humor fled from his expression, and once again Naomi was mesmerized by his sheer masculinity.
She swallowed. “For now. We still don’t know how everything will turn out. I’ve got a new life waiting for me in San Diego with Gabi. We should save these discussions until we figure out everything else.”
It was disconcerting being on the receiving end of his detective stare.
“That makes sense.” He conceded. “For now.”
“Focus,” she chided, turning back to the paper and resisting the urge to fan herself with it. Who was she to tell Cole to focus when all she wanted to do was climb on top of him again? She forced herself to address the issue at hand.
“Someone on this page is connected to Megan.” She stood and paced across the room feeling uneasy.
She felt Cole’s arms come around her, holding her from behind. His chin rested on the top of her head. His touch was already familiar and she marveled at how easily they’d crossed the boundary of personal space. “I hate that he’s still out there. That he feels so sure of himself, he’s not worried about getting caught.”
He squeezed her lightly. “I won’t let him hurt anyone else.” She could hear the determination in his voice, the certainty that left no room for doubt. He had the ability to make her feel safe even though the real dangers lurked inside her own mind—the one place he couldn’t get to. And yet, she couldn’t help feeling comforted by his words, his warmth, his strength.
Cole was ferocious when he put his mind to something. She wondered what the killer would think if he realized the hunter had now become the prey.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was late afte
rnoon on the following day when the two partners were escorted into Eli’s office at Hyperion Labs. Everywhere Cole looked was a sleek mix of glass and metal, with big windows overlooking the city below.
“Swanky digs,” Owen said, looking impressed.
They were seated on one of the leather chairs placed in front of a large mahogany desk, meticulous in its neatness. Two large computer monitors took up nearly half of its surface space. “Much more comfortable than the bullpen.”
“Private funding doesn’t hurt,” Cole said, reviewing the notes he’d taken earlier. They had spent the morning running the names of people who had attended the regattas through the crime database to see if any had previous skirmishes with the law. So far, they had a list of seventeen people with infractions ranging from drunk driving to domestic battery and embezzlement. They decided to focus on violent crimes first, and had identified four potential suspects.
Cole hoped that Eli would have some information to point them in the right direction. In his experience, there were busybodies in every community; whether it was a yacht club or a bridge club, you could bet that someone was poking their noses into other people’s business.
“Detectives,” Eli walked in, dressed in an impeccably tailored navy suit, which Cole was sure would cost more than his monthly paycheck. “This is the first time you’ve dropped by on official police business.” He took a seat behind the desk.
“Thanks for making the time,” Cole said, then got right to the point. “We’re working on an investigation and the suspect might have ties with the Boston Yacht Club. We saw that you’re a member so we were wondering if you had any tips before we started approaching people.”
“Something is going on at the Yacht Club? Did someone steal a towel?” Eli asked in mock horror. “That place is so stuffy sometimes I think someone not wearing a tie at dinner would be enough for them to call the cops.”
“We can’t say too much because it’s an active case,” Cole replied, amused. “But what I’m about to show you is confidential, and stays between the three of us.”
Eli nodded. “Of course, I understand.”
Cole took out the list of suspects from the folder he was carrying and pushed it across the desk. “This is a list of people we’d like to talk to.”
Eli scanned the list, and then looked up, surprised. “I would never have thought any of these people was capable of breaking the law.” He shook his head. “I guess you never know what happens behind closed doors.” He looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have anything that would be useful.”
“That’s ok.” Cole shrugged, feeling disappointed. It had been a long shot anyway.
“Have you asked the club for their swipe card data?” Eli asked, and Cole knew the other man was wracking his brain, trying to be helpful. He appreciated the effort.
Cole shook his head. “Not yet. We wanted to see if we could narrow down the list of names first.” The Boston Yacht Club used a swipe card system to allow members to gain entry to the premises, the same type of system that Lily’s gym had used.
“The only other thing I can think of is to talk to Will Jackman, he’s the race coordinator. He’s knows all the crews and the boats. And he loves gossip,” Eli gestured at the list. “If anything is going on in the club, he’ll know about it.”
“That helps.” Cole jotted the name down in his notebook. As he’d suspected, there was always someone who knew other people’s secrets. They stood and made the way back to the elevators.
“Is everything set for Leah’s birthday dinner?” Owen asked from beside him. “Anything we need to bring?”
Eli groaned and shook his head. “I was about to e-mail you about that. A pipe burst in my house a few days ago, and there’s a ton of water damage. I have people fixing it right now, but it won’t be ready by Saturday, so we’ll do the party at Leah’s place instead.”
“That sucks,” Cole said, wincing. Dealing with a flooded apartment sounded like a very expensive nightmare. “Where have you been staying?”
“Leah’s guest bedroom for a few days.” He shrugged. “I can’t complain. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“You’ve done plenty. Thanks again, Eli,” Cole said, shaking the man’s hand. “We’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Be sure to bring your sister,” Eli called as the elevator doors were closing, missing Owen’s middle-fingered reply.
Back in the patrol car, he tried to defuse Owen’s sulk. It was entertaining to see his levelheaded partner lose his cool. Michelle was one of the smartest, most capable women he knew, but in Owen’s eyes, she’d always be his baby sister. He understood how the man felt: Cole was protective of the people he considered to be his, too.
“You can’t let Eli get to you,” he said as they headed toward the club.
“That’s easy to say,” Owen muttered. “You don’t have some Tony Stark wannabe trying to get with your sister.”
“We’ll figure out some very creative revenge for Eli,” Cole suggested, wanting to lighten his partner’s mood. “We’ll keep her out of Iron Man’s clutches.”
Owen seemed mollified. “Let’s hope this Will Jackman has something useful to share,” he said. “But he’s not the only person we should track down at the club.”
“Who else?”
“The race coordinator is a good start, but we need to talk to some of the staff. Preferably the restaurant servers, the bartenders, and the valets. Those people are the eyes and ears of the place. They might know things that even our resident busybody isn’t aware of.”
Cole agreed. “Good idea. At least we’ve got some direction to move forward with. Without Naomi’s vision I don’t know how far we’d have gotten. Lily’s murder would have probably been shoved in a cold case file somewhere. I want to catch this guy, Owen.”
“I know. Me, too.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence, as Cole contemplated their progress. While they were peeling back the layers of mystery surrounding Lily’s death, he still had many unanswered questions about Megan Collins and how she fit into the big picture.
He didn’t like the fact that Risso’s name had appeared on the list of the Regatta reception attendees, not to mention the fact that Naomi had gotten a Megan-related psychic impression when holding the sheet of paper.
It only strengthened his suspicion of the burly officer’s involvement in this whole mess. Naomi’s visions had shown that the real Phantom had assaulted Rachel Li. So how did Randall Carr end up with some of her belongings? Whoever framed Carr had inside access to case details that were not available to the public. Did Risso deliberately tamper with the investigation or did he push for a quick conviction based on the evidence without digging deeper?
Unable to find an answer, his thoughts turned toward Naomi and their dinner last night. He smiled to himself. Despite her initial awkwardness, they’d settled into each other’s company with an ease that had surprised him. The evening gave him a small glimpse into what a relationship could be like between them, and Cole was determined to fight for their chance to have it, the case be damned. He liked how she’d become accustomed to his touch, accepting his reassurance and comfort with surprising openness. It felt right to hold her, to laugh and joke with her.
He loved her.
That realization hit him with a jolt.
“What?” Owen’s shocked exclamation mirrored his own surprise.
“What?” Cole echoed, confused.
“You said ‘I love her’ out loud.” Owen said, still gaping at him, and Cole would have closed his eyes in mortification if he weren’t driving.
“Shit.”
Owen’s laugh echoed in the car. “Shit, indeed. Looks like you’re a goner. Does she know?”
“Of course, she doesn’t.” Cole paused. They were talking about a psychic who could sometimes read minds. “Shit,” he said again.
“Cole.” Owen’s voice was gentle, a departure from their usual banter. “I’m happy for you.”
> “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll figure it out. There’s one thing you should do right now, though.” Owen inclined his head.
“What?” Cole was feeling out of his depth enough to consider advice from any source.
“You should take the next left turn. You just drove by the club.”
Chapter Thirty
Naomi paced in the dining room, watching the minutes creep by on the clock by the mantle. Leah was coming today, and Naomi had been able to think of little else. What would she say? How should she act?
The sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts. “Naomi? We’re back.”
“In here,” she called out, taking a seat at the dining room table. Owen came in first.
“Hi, Nay.” Owen placed his briefcase on the table and sat down with a sigh. “What a day, I’m exhausted.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“You poor thing,” Naomi said with sympathy. “What happened?”
“We’ve been looking at data all day,” Cole answered from the doorway, walking toward her. “I think our eyes are permanently crossed.” He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips.
She must have looked startled because he smiled and tapped her nose with a finger. “It’s ok, Owen knows.”
“Knows what?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. How much had he told his partner?
“Knows that we’re ...” Cole seemed suddenly at a loss for words. “Seeing each other,” he said after what seemed like a long deliberation.
Seeing each other was a broad enough label to include a psychic helping a detective with some sexy times thrown in, Naomi supposed. She could probably cut him some slack.
“Ok,” she said, and hid a smile when he looked relieved.
“We have some time before Leah gets here.” He walked over to the fridge. “I think I want a beer. Owen?”
