by Hanna Noble
The Knowing whispered through her, and she heard the sound of dance music. It seemed muted, like it was coming from far away. For a second, she wondered if Cole’s neighbors were playing something but realized that she was the only one who could hear the rhythmic beats. She brought her gaze back to the image in front of her.
“Final rep, everyone you’re doing great. And one, two, three, and four. Switch. One, two, three, four.” It was a male voice, but again it sounded far away. “Great job, let’s start the cool down.”
She felt the sweet, earthy, taste of carrot juice on her tongue, cooling her throat. The music and the voice faded away, and Naomi put the picture back down, puzzled by what she’d seen. The medication was muddling her senses—she couldn’t be sure whether what she was seeing was relevant or not. She didn’t want to take any chances.
She looked up, saw Cole was watching her, his eyes intent. “Did you see something?” He sounded cautious but eager.
It made her wary. She couldn’t be sure of what she saw, didn’t trust that it would benefit the case. There was nothing worth sharing at this point, so she’d keep it to herself.
“No,” she lied. “I didn’t get anything.”
She would be extra vigilant. She would only share the things that she was sure were related. She wouldn’t make the same mistake as last time, wouldn’t jump to conclusions or assume anything. Her abilities were unpredictable, and she wouldn’t utter a single careless word that could inadvertently hurt someone. Shauna’s face flashed in her mind and she shuddered. No, she wouldn’t speak the words that could cost someone their life.
Chapter Ten
She was lying. Cole was sure of it. Glancing at Owen, he was grateful that years of working together meant he could express what he was thinking without saying a thing.
Owen returned his gaze, telling him without words that he’d reached the same conclusion. Naomi’s eyes had gone unfocused, and her brow had wrinkled as she’d stared at Lily’s picture. Cole would wager she wasn’t even aware of how she’d cocked her head to one side, as if listening to something.
“That’s ok,” he said instead, not wanting to force the issue. She would tell him in her own time, wouldn’t she? She seemed on edge—her hands were clasped together, and her gaze locked on the table in front of her. The exact opposite of the woman who had teased him with a bagel order. This was hard on her, and he didn’t know how to make it any easier.
“You said her mother filed the missing person report,” Naomi said, still avoiding looking at him. She picked up the page of typed-up notes, scanning them. “It doesn’t really seem like the police spent a lot of time looking for her.”
“They didn’t.” Cole had reviewed the file when it had become a homicide. “Her mother had received a text message from Lily, saying that she had to get away for a while. When they went to her apartment her suitcase was gone along with some of her clothes. She was single, and it didn’t look like there were any signs of struggle or forced entry, so the officer concluded she must have left on her own.” He shrugged. “She had a history of taking off without telling anyone. A lot of people go missing in Boston every day, and, we don’t have the manpower to track every single one of them down, especially if the evidence says they left on their own.”
Cole tried not to think about it, all the cases that he knew would never be solved. He hated missing person cases the most because the families never stopped wondering what had happened to their loved ones. It was agonizing. Lily Martin’s mother had wondered where her daughter was every day for eight months. At least now they knew, though it was a heartbreaking answer no mother hoped to hear.
Naomi nodded, her eyes once again on the papers in front of her. “So, you have to retrace her last steps, figure out where she was last seen.”
“You got it,” Owen spoke up. “All we know is that she left work on July 11, and that she went home at some point. Her mother left us a list of some of the places she frequented. Coffee shops, a few parks, things like that. There are about six places in total, not including her apartment. I guess we need to go down the list and try to figure it out . . .” he trailed off, realizing she was no longer listening to him.
Owen shot him a confused look, and Cole shrugged. Naomi once again had that faraway look.
“Naomi?” Cole asked, leaning forward. “Are you ok?”
“Yes, sorry,” she said, still focused on the list in her hand. “I was thinking.”
Cole waited, not saying anything. He knew when someone needed some time to tell him something. Over the years, he’d learned that people loved to tell their stories. Whether it was a guilty party or an informant, people seemed compelled to share what they knew, as if saying the words would release the weight of guilt that so often bogged them down.
“Maybe.” Naomi cleared her throat. Her voice was hesitant, her expression unsure. “Maybe you should start with this place.”
Cole and Owen leaned over to see what she was pointing at. “Charles River Athletic Center?” he asked. “Her gym?”
She nodded.
Well, that was a start. But was it based on something she’d seen or was she guessing? He still didn’t know what to make of Naomi and her abilities.
“Anything in particular we should be looking for?” Owen asked, while making some notes on the pad of paper in front of him.
“I’m not sure,” she said, worrying the gold pendant she wore around her neck. “I’d like to go see it myself. Today.”
Cole frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. One of us should go with you.” He didn’t want her going anywhere related to this case by herself. These were the normal precautions he would take with any case witness, he assured himself. It had nothing to do with not wanting to see her looking sad and defeated again.
“It’s probably best if we’re not seen together,” she argued. “I’ll pretend I’m interested in signing up. I’ll get a tour, take a look around. I won’t even give them my real name. I’ll wear a baseball cap. No one will recognize me.”
“I don’t see the harm,” Owen said from his seat, and Cole gritted his teeth. Clearly his partner didn’t have the same level of concern for Naomi’s safety as he did. It seemed he had been outvoted.
“Fine, I can take you over there this afternoon,” he said. “But I’m going to wait for you in the car across the street. No objections.” He wasn’t budging on this one. She was his responsibility, and he would keep her safe. “I’m not taking any chances.”
She nodded. “That’s fair.” She glanced at the files piled on the table. “What’s next?”
“Let’s shift gears.” Owen stood up and reached for another file. “I want to talk about Megan Collins,” he said, pushing the file toward him.
Cole removed a few pictures of Megan and placed them on the table. He could feel Naomi’s tension increase, her eyes glued to the images of the curvaceous redhead laughing up at them.
The discovery of Megan’s body had happened while they’d been at the hospital, waiting for news about Owen and Shauna. It had signaled the beginning of the end for Naomi, and now they were asking her to take a closer look at the case that had undermined her confidence in her abilities.
“I’m curious to see what you get from this,” Owen said, taking a seat and picking his pen up, nodding to Naomi to go ahead.
“Maybe nothing,” Naomi said, looking at the pictures. Her face had gone pale.
“Maybe nothing,” Cole repeated, his voice quiet. “But maybe something.” He gave her an encouraging smile, offering her one of the pictures of Megan.
Long seconds passed as she hesitated, then Naomi reached for the picture he was holding out. She closed her eyes. Three minutes passed without anyone saying anything. When her eyes opened, her expression was thoughtful. Cole was sure she’d seen something.
“What is it?” he asked, hoping that this time she’d tell them what she sensed, would help give them some direction. He was disappointed.
“Nothing,�
� she dropped her gaze, swallowing hard. Cole felt the stirrings of frustration, despite his vow to be a never-ending source of patience and open-mindedness.
He had to be gentle and understanding, he reminded himself. He did not want to shatter their delicate trust by calling bullshit, and yet with each small lie he found himself more annoyed. Before he could say anything, she turned to Owen.
“Do you have his picture? Randall Carr’s?”
Owen passed it over, shooting Cole a dirty look. Owen knew exactly what he was thinking and was telling him to keep his mouth shut. Cole glared back at him. It was lucky they could have this incredibly mature nonverbal spat while the psychic they were consulting held a copy of a mug shot with her eyes closed. Your average Sunday afternoon.
Cole preferred it when she was telling them things and he was skeptical. That way, he wouldn’t find himself in the uncomfortable position of believing that she was in fact seeing things, and not telling them about it.
Her eyes snapped open. “I ...” her voice trembled. “I’m getting fear.” She placed the photograph back on the table. Her helpless expression rankled him.
“Bullshit.” The word came out of his mouth before he’d even finished thinking it.
“Cole!” Owen hissed at him, shocked, but Cole focused his attention on Naomi, who was watching him with wide eyes and pale cheeks.
“Excuse me?”
Well, there was no going back now. “You heard me, I said bullshit.” He wasn’t prepared for the stricken expression on her face.
“You don’t believe me.” Her voice was low, filled with pain. “You don’t believe what I sensed.” She looked defeated, sorrowful, and Cole couldn’t bear it.
He’d seen that look in her eyes before, the day at the hospital when he’d accused her of lying. He cursed himself. He’d thought a little anger would prod her into telling the truth, but he had miscalculated. This was the reaction of a woman who was convinced she was already wrong, who didn’t consider defending herself.
“Naomi.” He turned to face her, taking her hands in his. They were ice-cold. “That’s not it. I believe you did see something, I don’t think you’re telling us the whole story.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice was indignant, but Cole felt her hands jerk. “I told you about Lily’s gym and Randall, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but not everything. What else did you see, Naomi? What else did you sense when you looked at those pictures?” He let go of her hands to grab the picture of Lily from the case file. He placed it in front of her. “You said yourself you see in symbols. Every detail could be important, could be the clue we need.” He looked at her, hating the hurt in her eyes. Hating that he caused it. “If this is going to work, you have to be completely honest with us.”
She jerked back as though she’d been slapped. “Honest with you? You want me to be honest with you?” Her voice was brittle, and Cole was afraid he had pushed her too far.
“Naomi.” Owen, always a source of calm, tried to diffuse the sudden aggressive tension.
“No, Owen,” she snapped, not sparing him a glance. “He wants honesty? Here’s some for you.” She slammed her hands on the table in front of her. “I don’t know what I’m seeing! I don’t know if it’s real, or not. I don’t know if it matters. Are you happy? I don’t know anything! Is that what you wanted to hear?” The heat in her voice died out a second later, and when she spoke it came out as a strained whisper, thick with tears. “It’s too much pressure.” She placed her head on her folded arms on the table. “I can’t go through this again.”
Cole’s heart stuttered at seeing her hunched over. She looked so fragile. He came out of his chair and crouched in front of her, his hand reaching out to stroke her head, the wispy blonde hair feeling soft to the touch. She stiffened but didn’t move away.
“It’s going to be ok,” he said, fighting the crazy urge to hold her, shield her from the guilt that was tearing her into pieces. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
She raised her head and looked at him with such vulnerability in her eyes that he would have said anything, done anything to spare her the pain of the past few months.
“I promise,” he said again, meaning it. Wanting her to hear the vow in his voice that he would protect her. Keep her safe.
She took a deep breath, and he returned to his seat next to her. “What I see might not mean anything,” she said, her voice flat. “I’ll only tell you the things I’m sure about. It’s the safest way to make sure that no one ... gets hurt.”
“You can’t do that,” Cole replied, ignoring the way Owen was still glaring daggers at him. He stood and gestured to the files on the table. “These files are the result of hours of work that Owen and I, and other detectives, have done on these cases. Hours of legwork, interviews, hunches, and following dead-end tips. You’re now a part of this process,” he said, waiting until she met his eyes, until she heard the truth in his voice. “You’re a part of this team. We won’t let you carry the burden of being certain all alone. Tell us what you see, and we’ll treat it as a possibility. We’ll figure it out. Together.” He paused, wanting desperately to find the right words to make her understand. “You’re not alone anymore, Naomi. We’re here with you.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. “I wish you had said all of that to me the last time around,” she said her voice filled with regret. “Maybe we could have saved a life.”
He knew she was right. Had tossed and turned with that reality for months after everything had exploded. “I know. I’m trying to do things a little differently.”
“We’re in this together,” Owen added. “All the way this time.”
“Ok.” Naomi straightened her shoulders, and Cole watched as she pulled herself together.
“Are you ready to try again?” he asked, not wanting to proceed unless she was comfortable. At her nod, he took up Lily Martin’s picture and pushed it toward her. Owen picked up his pen, ready to document what she said.
“It’s a little fuzzy,” she said, staring at Lily’s face. “A gym class, loud dance music is playing. A male instructor is leading the class though their last repetition. Body pump, I think.” She bit her lip. “Carrot juice.” She shrugged at Owen’s puzzled look. “I tasted carrot juice. I’m telling you everything I know, but it’s coming in tiny pieces.”
“That’s really good. You’re doing great,” Cole said, and picked up the picture of Megan. “What about her?”
He was surprised to see a wistful smile cross her face. “Megan was in love. Nearly high with it. Her heart was full of so many emotions: desire, happiness, joy. It’s what I felt from her.” She looked at Owen. “Maybe it was her college sweetheart.”
“We’ll look into that,” Owen said, jotting down notes. “It isn’t something we considered before.”
“Last one,” Cole said, pulling Randy’s mug shot out. Naomi furrowed her brow, and he could see her struggling to find the right words.
“It’s hard to describe. He’s not a good man. He’s afraid. Angry.” She shrugged. “It’s not much.”
“I think that’s plenty,” Cole said. “It’s our first day, I’m sure things will start falling into place. I think that’s a good place to stop for today.”
Naomi looked exhausted, and today’s session had been another emotional doozy. Hell, he felt drained himself.
“That’s my cue,” Owen said, getting up and stretching. “I’ve got some errands to run anyway, before our shift tomorrow. Do you have everything you need?” he asked Naomi as they all walked toward the door.
She nodded. “I’m good.” She looked like she was about to fall asleep on her feet.
“Why don’t you take a rest?” Cole suggested while he pulled on his shoes and coat. “I’m going to walk Owen out.”
He shut the front door behind him and blew air on his hands to warm them. It was freezing outside.
“So?” Owen asked as they reached the c
ar.
“Today was interesting.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how these things work, but she seemed to be getting something from nearly everything we gave her.”
“Michelle always said Naomi’s sensitivity was off the charts,” Owen said. “She said Naomi has to be on constant guard from incoming stimuli. It must be so hard—I never realized it would be like this for her.”
Cole hadn’t either. He’d pictured her getting visions when she needed to see something, but the truth was she lived in a world where she received a constant stream of information that others didn’t even know existed. He couldn’t imagine the burden of knowing things you didn’t want to know, of having to fight the world for a little bit of quiet.
“You did good in there,” Owen said as he got into the car. “I had my doubts, but you pulled through.” He started the engine to warm it up.
Cole grinned. “Thanks for the review, boss.” He paused, turning serious. “The more I understand her, the more I know we have to take care of her. She’s our responsibility, we can’t let this case hurt her again.”
Owen was looking at him with an odd look on his face, making Cole nervous. “What?”
“Do you have the hots for her?”
Cole’s jaw dropped, and he couldn’t form words. How had Owen known about that?
Owen laughed out loud. “Your face is priceless. I wish I had my phone handy to snap a picture.”
“What the hell kind of a question is that?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Owen chuckled. “We’ve been partners for years, genius. I think I know when my partner has the hots for a woman. You couldn’t take your eyes off her today, and it had nothing to do with reading her body language.”
“I know,” Cole admitted and then scowled. “Why did you ask if you already knew the answer?”
Owen grinned. “Because she can’t stop looking at you either.”