The Knowing (Partners In Crime Book 1)

by Hanna Noble

  “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer,” Cole read aloud. “Check that one.”

  Once again, Naomi found it easily. The quote was highlighted, but this time the words “live everything” were circled in red pen.

  “Wait, what did you say?” Leah asked, leaning in, her face full of excitement. “Read it again.”

  He did so, and they all watched as she grabbed Megan’s laptop and started typing furiously. “Leah?”

  “I think it’s her e-mail password,” she said without looking up. “The hint for her security question on the account asked ‘what’s the point,’ and I think the answer is in that quote.”

  “The point is to live everything,” Naomi read, looking back down at the page. “Do you think that could be it?”

  “I’m checking now.” They watched in silence as Leah loaded the log-in page, and Cole felt his own sense of anticipation kick in. They waited as she typed in the phrase.

  She looked up frowning. “It didn’t work.”

  “Try capitalizing the first letter of each word,” Owen suggested. Leah nodded and typed it in.

  “Still nothing.”

  “We’re missing a number,” Naomi said, and Cole saw she had that faraway look in her eyes that she got when she was using her abilities. She looked down at the book in her hand. “The quote is on page eighty-five, try adding that to the two words.”

  “It worked.” Leah sat back stunned. “It actually worked.”

  “How can that have worked?” Cole felt his own jaw drop. This could be the break they were waiting for. “I don’t believe it.”

  “We do have some supernatural help,” Owen reminded them. “If you think about it, without Naomi’s visions we would have never picked this book from her belongings, nor would we have known to look up a specific quote. Without her, we wouldn’t have looked into Megan’s death at all.”

  “I’ve found her term paper,” Leah said, looking up from the screen. “Megan wasn’t researching the university’s meat sourcing practices. She was writing about a sugar daddy website.”

  There was a moment of silence at her proclamation.

  “Wait, what?” Owen was the first to recover. “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s like a dating website, except instead of looking for a date, you sign up and get yourself a sugar daddy or sugar baby,” Cole said.

  “Sugar babe,” Leah corrected, her eyes on the screen. “Apparently, that’s the appropriate term.”

  “Sorry, I’m not an expert in the terminology. But I remember reading an article about this last year. Those sites have been around for a while.”

  “Gold digging with a digital twist?” Owen asked. “You sign up on this site and find a guy to bankroll you in exchange for sleeping with him? It’s the digitization of the oldest profession.”

  Naomi turned to Leah. “What’s Megan’s involvement with this? What have you found?”

  “She’s been storing her research notes as draft e-mails,” Leah said. “There’s a lot of material, and it will take me some time to go through it, but from what I can tell she joined the website to report on her experiences.”

  “Judging by the money, I think she was successful,” Owen said. “But I’d like some actual confirmation. What can you see about the site itself?”

  “It’s called SugarDaddiez.com,” Leah said, sounding disgusted at having to utter those words. “Megan signed up under the alias Leila Diwan and has been exchanging messages with someone called Mr. G. Presumably the ‘daddy’ in question.”

  “G as in Greylock?” Owen asked, glancing at the rent documents again. “Do we know who Mr. G is?”

  “She refers to him as Mr. G,” Leah said. “I need to go through their exchanges in detail to see if we can unmask him, but it seems they agreed to meet and entered into this sort of arrangement.”

  “What if Mr. G found out about her exposé and wasn’t pleased?” Cole suggested, jotting down his thoughts in his notebook. “Especially if he’s running in these high society circles, he wouldn’t want that to get out. Maybe he hired Randall to do it?” His mind searched for motives that would help explain Megan’s death.

  “Randall’s not a killer,” Owen said. “He’s a low-level drug dealer, a gambler, but I don’t see him as a hit man. At least not according to his file.”

  “Exactly. I checked around with a source of mine,” Leah spoke up again. “There’s a rumor that Randall had some heavy gambling debts and owed a lot of money to some very bad people.”

  “Like who?” Cole didn’t like the sound of this at all. Gambling in this town could be a very dangerous pastime.

  “The Marcus family,” Leah said, “who, by coincidence, happen to be the biggest investors in Greylock’s new condominium project. The best part is that now Randall’s debt has mysteriously been cancelled.”

  “This is making a scary kind of sense,” Owen muttered. “Greylock CEO wants to find a piece on the side, uses the Internet to connect to Megan, who’s posing as Leila. They start seeing each other, but something happens, and he decides she needs to be out of the picture.”

  “So, they use Randall’s debt against him,” finished Cole. “He clears what he owes in exchange for a life in jail.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a good deal,” Naomi spoke up. “I couldn’t imagine agreeing to go to jail for life.”

  “It probably was a good deal for him,” Leah explained. “If he didn’t manage to pay up, they would have done a lot worse. The Marcus family aren’t known for their kindness to those with outstanding debts.”

  Cole had seen the results of exactly how payment for overdue amounts was collected and it wasn’t pretty. It involved a lot of pain and broken bones. At best.

  “They killed Megan, making it seem like Randall was the Phantom. Knowing it would be the perfect cover.” Owen rubbed his neck, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

  “A lot of people benefited from catching the Phantom,” Cole said, writing down the list of names as he said them out loud. “Greylock’s condo development in the heart of downtown. The Police Commissioner.” He looked up at them. “Not to mention Risso and his promotion.”

  “Don’t forget the Mayor,” Leah added. “Carr used information that wasn’t made available to the public, and that had to come from an inside source. For now, the only thing we can say with some certainty is that Megan wasn’t murdered by the Phantom. There are too many external factors at play. I think you stumbled across something else completely. Which means”—she looked at Naomi—“he’s really still out there.”

  “He’s ramping up to attack again,” Naomi said, and Leah’s face mirrored her horror. “He thinks he’s gotten away with it, is eager to start playing again. He feels invincible.”

  “What do we do now?” Leah turned to Cole. “Do you want me to keep going with this?”

  “Yes.” Cole nodded. “We know Megan’s death was suspicious, but we need more evidence. Randall might not be the Phantom, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t kill Megan. You keep digging, and we’ll focus on Lily.”

  Despite their progress, Cole couldn’t shake the feeling that Megan’s death was connected to something far bigger than any of them imagined. Was there a link between Lily and Megan, or was it someone’s ploy to cover up a murder?

  “I should go, it’s getting late.” Leah stood up and started putting everything back in the box. “I’ll focus on Randall next, and try to retrace his footsteps on the day of the murder.”

  “Be careful,” Owen warned. “Megan was off the radar, but if you go sniffing around Randall you have to make sure no one finds out. Especially Ri
sso.”

  “I know,” Leah said, shrugging into her coat. “I’ll start by looking at his statements again and figure out a plan from there.”

  Cole watched as she walked to stand in front of Naomi.

  “If you need anything,” she said, her voice solemn, “don’t hesitate to call me.”

  Cole was touched by the gesture, and knew that Naomi was as well. He could see by her expression that she had missed Leah’s friendship. “Thanks,” she said. “And happy early birthday.”

  “Thanks.” Leah turned and walked down the hall, Owen once again helping her carry the box back to her car.

  He watched as Naomi wandered into the kitchen. He figured she must be getting tired of being on the sidelines while everyone else got their chance to play in the game. Her life was on hold until they caught this guy, and that had to be a tough reality to accept.

  Owen entered the dining room and leaned in the doorway. “Sugar daddies and a cover-up,” he said, watching Naomi move around the kitchen. “Not bad for a night’s work.” He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re making progress. I know it’s hard, but be a little patient. We’re getting closer.”

  It was clear his partner had picked up the same vibes from Naomi that he had. “He’s right,” Cole said, coming to stand in front of her as well. “Soon this will be nothing but a memory, and you’ll go back to living your life.”

  “I hope so,” she said, and Cole was again struck at how small she was, flanked by their strength and determination to see this case through. Her inner core of steel always made her seem much larger.

  “We’ll get him,” Cole said. “Bet on it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  He would choke her until she passed out, and then wait for her to wake up and start all over again. He felt the dark rage bubbling inside him, straining for release. She hadn’t played by the rules, and he wouldn’t tolerate cheaters. He would be patient.

  He would bide his time and find the perfect opportunity to show her just what happened to those who tried to oppose him. Soon. The body resurfacing had been sloppy on his part, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. This time, he’d cut her up. He’d make sure no one would ever find her. The bitch. BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. She would die. She would know. It was time to hunt.

  Gasping, Naomi sat up in bed, disoriented. Her heart was pounding, wild with a terror that clawed at her chest. She was in Cole’s bed, she reminded herself, looking around. The bedside clock said it was after 10 a.m.

  “What is it?” Cole’s voice was husky with sleep as he sat up, turning to face her. “Naomi?” His eyes were alert and she knew she had his full attention.

  She struggled to calm herself in the face of a sliding panic that made her shiver with cold. “He’s going to kill again.” She shuddered at the malice she had felt, the sick, perverted glee. “It’s about to happen again.”

  “What?” Cole’s hand touched her cheek, anchoring her to the present, helping her shed the last vestiges of the Knowing that had claimed her dreams. “What did you see?”

  “I was in his head,” she said, clenching her hands into fists. “He’s found his next target, and he’s going to hurt her. Soon.” She could feel the panic clawing at her throat. “I’ve never connected to someone like that in a dream before.”

  “Ok, take a deep breath.” Cole rose out of bed and returned an instant later with a glass of water. She accepted the cold liquid, soothing her suddenly parched throat.

  “Start from the beginning,” he said, sitting on the side of the bed beside her.

  “He was in a rage,” She took another sip of water, tried to steady her nerves. “Something about rules and a game, and a cheater. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It’s ok.” Cole rubbed her arm, trying to warm her. “Do you know when he’s planning to move?” His voice was gentle, but she could hear the anger underneath.

  “In a few days.” Naomi took a deep breath. “He wants to do horrible things to her. Cut her up and make her disappear.”

  “Don’t think about that.” He opened the nightstand drawer and handed her a small pad of paper and a pen. “Focus on what you saw and heard. Write down what you remember.”

  “It has to do with power,” she murmured as she jotted down the fragments of the frightening dream. But it wasn’t a dream. “He’s lost it and these acts help him reclaim it.” She looked at Cole, who was watching her closely. “I don’t think there’s anything useful.” She felt ill.

  “It’s more information.”

  “What if he hurts another woman?”

  “We won’t let him.” Cole nudged her over and climbed back into bed. “Not everything you see is going to make sense right away,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “You should know this better than anyone. Think of your earlier visions. There were clues, hints, images that we still don’t have an answer to. The truth is revealing itself one piece at a time. We have to keep moving forward. We still have time to stop him.” He paused, looking down at her. “Do you feel better?”

  She nodded, finding his earnestness endearing. “When did you get to be such an expert in comforting the paranormally afflicted?” she asked, marveling at how easily he’d helped her regain a sense of control. She wouldn’t let her abilities derail her emotional stability. All she could do was pay attention to her visions, write everything down, and try to live as normal a life as possible.

  “We do everything we can to keep the city safe, ma’am,” he said. “Though these particular services are offered only to VIPs like yourself.”

  “Very important person?”

  “Very important psychic.” He corrected, smiling. “New department rules. It’s in the handbook. This is how we should be spending every Saturday morning.”

  An endless stream of Saturdays to be wrapped up with Cole?

  It sounded like heaven.

  He groaned when his phone beeped. “It’s Owen,” he told her. “The club manager arranged interviews for us with valets and bartenders now so we don’t interrupt their shifts later. I have to get ready.”

  She watched as he got out of bed and stretched, admiring the impressive view of his lean torso and broad shoulders. He had such an elemental appeal, a strength that spoke to the primal part of the brain that had helped humans survive for thousands of years. She pictured Cole wearing nothing but caveman furs. It suited him.

  “Stop that,” he scolded as he leaned down to give her another kiss. “Stop looking at me with those sexy blue eyes. Otherwise, I won’t be held responsible for my actions and I’ll be late and Owen will be mad and who knows how many bad guys will go free because of you.”

  She laughed. “Okay, for the safety of the fine citizens of Boston I’ll keep my eyes to myself.”

  They showered and dressed quickly, making their way to the kitchen for some caffeine. He started the coffeemaker and grabbed the newspaper from outside, while she toasted bread and cut up fruit, settling into a rhythm as though they’d been doing this for years.

  “This is nice,” Cole said, taking a sip of coffee and sitting on his chair.

  “What is?” she asked absently, engrossed in an article about the white sandy beaches of Queensland, Australia.

  “This.”

  She looked up as he gestured to the coffee, the paper, and then to them.

  “Having breakfast surrounded by a bunch of case files?” she teased. “There’s nothing I love more than sharing my morning coffee with pictures of crime scenes and rap sheets.”

  He threw a piece of toast at her. “Smart-ass. You know what I mean. You. Me. Saturday morning.” He rustled his paper. “I could get used to it.”

  Naomi arched her brow at his nonchalant tone. “Oh, really?”

  “Yup.”

  His face was hidden behind the paper, but she could hear the smile in his voice and felt her own lips curve.

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” she said, turning her attention back to the beaches of Aus
tralia.

  “See that you do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  There were a hundred different ways that Cole could picture spending a relaxing Saturday morning, and none of them would involve sitting in a small, cramped room interviewing the staff at the Boston Yacht Club.

  They’d already spoken to the bartenders, the wait staff, and three of the valets without any luck. No one seemed to know anything that could help them. He was frustrated and knew Owen felt the same way.

  “This isn’t looking too good,” he said when they were alone. “No one seems to know anything useful. Hell, I don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

  “Yeah.” Owen frowned and rubbed his temples in frustration. “Do you want to call it quits for today?”

  Cole was tempted. This was turning out to be a waste of time. He would much rather be back at his house with Naomi.

  “There’s one more name on the list, James McFadden. Let’s see what he has to say.” They didn’t have many leads and Cole was determined to leave no stone unturned, not if it meant the chance of catching this guy.

  Owen nodded and rose from his chair. “I’ll go get him.”

  Cole stretched his arms behind his back, impatient. This case was grating on his nerves. He’d had cases with big stakes before, but none of them were so personal, and none of them involved love.

  He loved Naomi. He couldn’t quite believe it himself. The feeling had snuck up on him, wrapping around his heart so subtly that by the time he’d noticed it was already a part of him, as elemental as breathing.

  That meant he would move heaven and earth to make her happy. She needed this case to be solved so she could live her life, and he would do everything in his power to make that happen. Especially since he planned on living his life with her. Wherever she wanted to go. She’d sacrificed so much already that if she still wanted to move to San Diego after this was all said and done, he would be happy to go with her.