by Hanna Noble
“Definitely.”
Naomi enjoyed their camaraderie. Their easy banter was grounded in a deep fraternal love that warmed her heart. They’d be embarrassed if she mentioned it, so she’d keep quiet and enjoy the hell out of it.
Sometimes, she almost believed that one day she’d be free of the darker images that came with her gift, that she would be able to surround herself with only happy impressions. Wishful thinking, she told herself, but a nice thought either way.
“We spoke to the club’s race coordinator, Will Jackman, today and got their data,” Cole said, bringing her attention back to the present. “They stay open later in the summer. The restaurant and bar have people hanging around until 2 a.m. We’re seeing if we can eliminate anyone from our list of suspects.”
“Did you find anything?”
“We’ve eliminated three people so far.” Owen took a sip of his beer. “People who were at the club on the nights the assaults took place. But we still have more names and no standout suspect.” He sighed. “I guess we have to keep going through the evidence.”
She never thought detective work would involve so much data sifting, but she guessed that it was a consequence of living in an increasingly digital age.
“We’re going to speak to the head valet and some of the bartenders tomorrow since they weren’t on shift yet. They might be able to give us some more insight into who we should be looking at.”
“Let me see the list of names,” Naomi said, and reached out for the piece of paper on the table, but Cole snatched it away before she could touch it.
“Don’t,” he said.
She was confused. “Why not? Don’t you want to see if I get anything off that list?”
“Don’t touch it now,” he repeated. “Leah’s on her way over, and I want to make sure you don’t get blindsided by seeing anything. We can look at it after.”
He looked embarrassed and Naomi realized that he was trying to protect her, not wanting her to be at an emotional disadvantage when she saw Leah. She glanced at Owen, who nodded at her but didn’t say anything. She shrugged and dropped her hand.
“Ok, I’ll wait. Thanks for thinking of it.”
There was a knock at the door, and Naomi’s stomach knotted. Leah was here. She took a deep breath as Cole went to answer it, fighting the rising panic that was urging her to run and hide. Did Leah know? Had Cole given her a heads-up? She was frozen in her seat, unable to move, unable to do anything but strain to hear their voices in the hallway. She couldn’t make out the words.
“What?” Leah’s voice was uncharacteristically loud, filled with shock and incredulity. It seemed like Cole hadn’t prepared her after all.
The sound of quick footsteps walking toward the dining room was her only warning before Leah appeared, her eyes blazing with rage and disbelief.
“Leah, wait a minute, damn it—” Cole rushed in after her.
“I can’t believe this.” She sounded furious, but her eyes were hurt when she turned and looked at Owen. “I can’t believe you guys kept this from me.”
“Leah.” Owen stood and walked over to her, placing his big hands on her shoulders. “Please calm down and listen. It will all make sense.”
“I’m amazed you’d believe her after what she did to you. After what she did to Shauna.” She shrugged off Owen’s hands and turned to look at Naomi with disgust. “I can’t believe you’d show your face here again.”
Naomi felt Leah’s pain as if it were her own. She could sense the anger, and also the grief she carried inside her at the loss of her partner. What could Naomi say in her own defense when she carried the same wound?
“Enough.” Cole’s voice had turned hard. He stepped in front of Leah. “Let us explain.”
“Explain?” Leah looked incredulous. “Explain that you’re working with the person who bungled up our last investigation? Explain that you’re deliberately going against the Chief’s orders? That you’re risking your career? How are you falling for the same lies again?” She looked at Owen, shaking her head. “Are you that eager to put your life in danger?”
“Leah—”
“Don’t, Owen,” Leah’s voice had iced over, a true indication of the depth of her anger. “Just don’t. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this. Whatever you two are doing here, leave me out of it.”
She turned and left the room, Owen following. The front door slammed shut, and Naomi released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
“Damn it.” Cole shoved a hand through his hair.
“She’ll be back,” Owen entered the room, his expression weary. “She’s furious, but she’ll come around. We need to give her some time.”
“Time?” Cole reached over to pick up a picture of Lily that was on the table. “Time is the one thing we don’t have.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Twenty-four hours after their initial confrontation, Cole once again found himself sitting in the dining room with Naomi, Owen and Leah. True to Owen’s prediction, Leah had called earlier, asking to stop by.
“Thanks for coming back,” he said, trying to break the tension. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
“You can thank Eli,” Leah said, her expression guarded. “He’s the one who convinced me to come back and hear you out.”
“You told Eli?” Cole frowned, not liking the idea of more people knowing about Naomi’s involvement.
“He’s my brother,” Leah replied. “I trust him. You’re familiar with the concept of trust, aren’t you?”
Cole winced at the verbal slap, but knew he deserved it. “This is going to be hard to hear so I’m just going to say it.” He paused, waited until Leah looked at him. “Naomi was right.”
“It’s the truth,” Owen spoke up. “We’re the ones who were wrong.”
Leah’s expression wavered in the face of Owen’s sincerity. She was still furious, but Cole could tell that doubt was creeping in, forcing her to use the analytical mind that made her such a good detective.
“Ok.” She looked unconvinced, but open to hearing more. “I’m listening.”
Cole started to fill her in on what they had learned so far, knowing Leah would spot any flaws in their strategy. She didn’t interrupt, instead pulling out a notebook from her bag and jotting down notes while he took her through the steps in their investigation so far.
“I’m sure you’ll want to look at this,” Owen said, handing Leah the Lily Martin case file.
While she was busy reading over the statements, Cole glanced at Naomi. She hadn’t said anything, but he could tell she was nervous by the way her hands were knotted on the table in front of her. He sent her a reassuring smile, satisfied when her lips quirked in return.
“Damn.” Leah’s voice pulled Cole back to the present, and he glanced over to see her looking at a picture of Randall Carr. “So the Phantom’s still out there, and we don’t know who else is involved.”
Leah stared at Naomi, and Cole could practically see her quick mind sifting through all the case facts.
“Risso ...” Owen rubbed his jaw, looking troubled.
“Could be in on it,” Leah finished. “I figured. So, we’ve got two dead women. A killer still on the loose, someone who is tampering with this investigation, and a real-deal psychic who we were told never to contact again helping to unravel this whole mess.”
“You got it,” Cole said, shaking his head in admiration. “You always could cut to the heart of the matter.”
Leah didn’t smile back. “You should have told me.”
“We know.” Owen looked contrite. “We didn’t want to put you in harm’s way until we had a better handle on everything.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Yes, we’re idiots. I know.” He gave her his most charming smile. “Forgive us?”
“We’ll never do it again,” Cole added. “We’ll bring you your favorite Starbucks drink for the next month.”
“Two months,” Leah replied, and just like that he knew Leah had
forgiven them. Still, he tensed when she turned to Naomi. Their rift was going to be harder to mend.
“I’m going to need some time to process all of this.” Her face was inscrutable. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“It’s ok.” Naomi shrugged, but Cole knew Leah’s words had hurt. But her being here was a step forward, and he had to believe it would be in the right direction. “I’m sorry about Shauna. I never had a chance to give you my condolences properly.”
Leah blinked away the tears that had formed and took a deep breath. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself. We all made choices that day.” She paused. “We ruined your life.”
“So, help me get it back,” Naomi countered. “The Phantom stole a lot from all of us. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.”
“Me either.” Leah nodded. “Fuck that guy.”
Cole was amused at hearing the rare profanity escape Leah’s lips. “That’s the spirit.”
“We need to stop him before he kills again. We can deal with everything else later.” Owen interjected.
“Agreed,” Leah glanced between Cole and Naomi, her expression thoughtful. “I do have one question. Naomi, are you…”
“A psychic?” Naomi said. “I guess you can say that.”
“I was going to say romantically involved with Cole,” Leah said as Naomi’s jaw dropped. “You can tell me to mind my business, I won’t mind. There were always crazy sparks between you two.”
“That hasn’t changed.” Owen added.
“I ... uh ... we ...” Naomi was at a loss, unsure of what to say as she faced Leah’s inquiring look. Helpless, she turned to Cole, silently demanding he help her out.
“We’re figuring things out.” Cole grinned, reaching to cover Naomi’s hand with his. “Therefore, if we could close this case quickly so I could focus on that issue instead, I’d appreciate it.”
Leah raised a brow. “Anything I can do to help your dismal love life, Cole. And on that note—” She lifted a box of Megan’s things. “Let’s get this monster off our streets.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I got these from Megan’s mother,” Leah said, indicating the laptop, books, binders, and assorted notebooks that were now spread on the dining room table. “I focused on her computer mainly because I wanted to look into how she was financing her lifestyle.”
“Did you find anything we can track?” Owen asked, settling his big frame on the chair beside her.
Leah shook her head. “No, just regular cash deposits into her account. Once a month, without fail, she deposited $5,000.”
Cole sighed in frustration, and Leah turned to him. “Don’t worry, there’s more. It wasn’t a total bust. I did find something interesting.” She pulled out an envelope and pushed it toward Naomi and Cole. “There were a few things missing from her bank transactions. Like rent payments.”
Cole pulled opened the envelope and found receipts for Megan’s apartment.
“The rent on Megan’s apartment is being paid by a holding company called Northshore Limited.” Leah pulled out another folder. “I did some digging and it turns out it’s a subsidiary owned by Greylock Real Estate Development.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Owen asked, as Naomi passed him some of the sheets to look at.
“They’re involved in almost every big real estate project in the state,” Leah replied. “Hospitals, universities, condos, usually high-value multi-million-dollar projects.”
“Let me get this straight,” Naomi spoke up. “Megan is depositing five thousand dollars in cash into her account every month, and someone at Greylock is footing the bill?”
“Not only rent,” Leah said. “Her tuition, too. I checked with her university and they said she paid for everything in cash. I’m assuming she’s getting money from the same source.”
“Wait a minute,” Owen said, reaching to pull out a sheet of paper from the folder. “I’ve seen that name recently. Here,” he pointed to a list. “Bradley Kahn, CEO of Greylock Real Estate. He was at the Winner’s Circle reception.”
“Let me see that list,” Cole said, and scanned the names. “Khan wasn’t at the same table as Risso, the police chief, and the mayor, but he was there.” He looked at Naomi. “This is the piece of paper you were holding when you got that impression.”
“Megan’s feelings,” Naomi said, nodding. “It’s another link. Do you think the person she loves is at this table?”
“There’s something here.” Cole felt a surge of adrenaline. “There’s a link between Greylock and Megan, and we need to figure out what it was.”
“Greylock is a huge company.” Naomi tilted her head in puzzlement. “Why would they care about one journalism student?”
It was a question they didn’t have the answer to.
“Ok, let’s shift gears,” Cole said, turning to Leah. “What did she spend her money on?” Sometimes you had to circle a problem from different angles before you could find the answer. “Did you find anything else that could help in the other account transactions?”
“Regular student stuff.” Leah shrugged. “Clothes, food, going out.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Cole felt his frustration rise at the idea that all this work netted them only another dead end.
“There was one thing that was odd. Her computer has an instant messaging program, and when I turned it on it gave me the option of two different accounts.” Leah turned on the computer. “One says [email protected], and the password is remembered in the system so it automatically logs her on, but the other one says [email protected] and it’s password protected. I checked her social network profile and her e-mail history, and she doesn’t know anyone by that name.”
“That’s a little weird,” Owen said. “Can you access the e-mails from that account?”
Leah shook her head. “Without tech forensics, there isn’t much I can do. I’m not a computer expert. You need Martinez to look at this. He’ll be able to tell you more than I can.”
“We can’t bring him in now,” Owen said. “Not until we know what we’re dealing with and who’s involved.”
“I know.” Leah set the computer aside. “It’s going to limit how much we can uncover ourselves.”
“Did you find anything else in her stuff?” Owen asked, standing to take a closer look at the books and binders that were spread out on the table.
Leah shook her head. “Nothing that jumps out, except ...”
“What?” Cole said, as they all looked at her in expectation.
“Well, this is probably a tad neurotic on my part,” she said, a blush stealing across her face.
“Why do you think we pulled you in to this?” Owen said, his voice teasing. “We wanted your super-human attention to detail.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Spill it.”
“I couldn’t find her final term project,” Leah said, embarrassed.
“Her term project?” Cole didn’t understand why that was important.
“The journalism graduate program includes a final research paper on a topic of the student’s choice, sort of like an investigative report. I couldn’t find anything. Not in her document folders, or in any of these binders. That’s weird.”
“What made you think of that?” Owen was curious.
“I wanted to be a journalist once,” she admitted. “I was curious and wanted to see the report.”
“You would have made a great reporter,” Owen said. “But I think being a cop suits you better. So, what did you do? It’s not like you to leave something unanswered.”
“Am I that predictable?” Leah groused. “I asked her professor, and she said Megan was researching where the university kitchens source their meat, so it wasn’t anything helpful, but it’s still odd that she has no notes or research.”
“You’re such a nerd,” Cole said, ducking when Leah threw a pen at him. “I wasn’t finished! I was going to say it’s a good thing because this case is full of other little anomalies that
don’t add up. Everything you’ve uncovered is only increasing my suspicion that something’s going on.”
“Cole.”
Something in Naomi’s voice had him turning in concern. Her face had paled and she was staring at something on the table.
“What is it?” he asked, worried. “What’s wrong?”
“That book.” She pointed to a thin, cream-colored paperback book. “Can you hand it to me?”
Owen gave her the book, and Naomi passed it to Cole. He felt his jaw clench as he read the title on the cover. “Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainier Maria Rilke,” he said, his mind racing. “Do you think it means something?”
He handed the book back and searched in his notes for the quotes that Naomi had told him she’d “heard” when connecting to Megan.
“What’s going on?” Leah interrupted, glancing between them. “What’s the big deal about this book?”
“The impressions I’ve gotten from Megan included some quotes that we traced to Rilke,” Naomi explained. “It might be nothing, but it seems like a big coincidence that she would own this book. It’s a total long shot ...” she trailed off, and Cole knew she felt vulnerable talking about her abilities in front of Leah.
“This entire case is one giant long shot,” Leah replied. “Take a look. Let’s see what happens.”
Cole saw the relief that flitted across Naomi’s face at the words of encouragement. She opened the book, and he leaned in to see.
It was filled with highlighted text and margin notes penned in a neat feminine script. This was clearly often used and well loved. As Naomi flipped through the pages he saw that nearly every page was marked. Questions, reactions, and even doodles graced the pages, the last remaining traces of the young woman who had once lost herself in the writings of a German poet.
Naomi turned to Cole. “What were those exact quotes?”
He glanced at his notes and read out the first one, watching as Naomi searched the index and flipped through the pages.
“Found it, page forty-four.” She turned the book to show them. “The quote was highlighted and there’s a doodle of a heart but nothing else.” She looked at Cole in disappointment.
