The Knowing (Partners In Crime Book 1)

by Hanna Noble

  The thought of never seeing him again made her sadder than it should. As if in answer to her thoughts, Naomi heard her phone buzz and knew it was Cole. He usually called to check in a few times a day, a gesture that she found sweet.

  She decided to call him back later, hopefully armed with useful information that could help their investigation. That thought spurred her into action, and she once again took a seat at the dining room table, a pad of paper and a pen beside her. This time she was ready. Her breathing steady, her mind focused, she picked up Lily’s folder and pulled out a picture of the young woman.

  Lily was her strongest link to this case, and Naomi felt a deep connection to the woman who had reached out to her. Would Lily appear to her again? Naomi opened her mind, ready to receive. Lily. Talk to me. Let me help you.

  Ten minutes passed. Nothing. Naomi opened her eyes, trying not to feel disappointed. She didn’t expect the whole case to be solved with her first attempt, did she? She had to stay patient and open. She closed her eyes and tried again. Endless minutes ticked by, and she decided to give up. So much for being psychically empowered, she thought, dejected.

  She stood to get some water and realized there was a pen in her hand. She frowned at it, puzzled. She couldn’t remember picking it up. She glanced down at the pad of paper and stilled in shock. Lily’s address. She felt a chill as she stared at her own handwriting. There must be something she hadn’t seen at the apartment, something she had missed. She needed to go back and look for it. Tonight.

  She still had a few hours before Cole returned from work, enough time to do a little more experimenting and then call him back to share what she’d learned. She would turn her attention to Megan’s murder. That crime didn’t make sense to her. If she’d seen a vision of the Phantom killing Lily, then who had killed Megan? And why had Randall confessed?

  The last time, Naomi’s only impressions of Megan had been of a woman head over heels in love with a mysterious man. She pulled out the woman’s picture and forced herself to re-focus.

  “Ok, Megan, what else is there?” Naomi’s voice sounded loud in the quiet house. “I know you were in love,” she mused. “Who was he?” Was her lover connected with her death?

  The Knowing washed over her.

  “Believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.”

  A male voice, deep and low, repeating the same line over and over. Her eyes flew open and she scrambled for the pen again, writing down what she’d heard. Her heart was hammering. The man she’d heard in her head didn’t feel evil, he felt kind. Patient. Was it Megan’s mystery lover? Was it the person who’d harmed her?

  Naomi groaned in frustration, rubbing her temples. It was like playing Clue; everyone was a suspect. She couldn’t deny that she felt a difference in her psychic ability, a clarity that had been missing from her earlier impressions. Encouraged, she decided to review the case files again. Maybe something new would catch her attention now that her Knowing was unblocked.

  She spotted the handwritten notes lining the margins. Small block letters in a masculine scrawl marked every page. Cole. It was clear that he had spent hours poring over these documents, jotting down anything he thought would be helpful.

  She knew he had a sharp mind, and his notes reinforced that fact. He had drawn timelines of each crime, had circled certain words in the reports. He had written NO DNA in big bold letters on one page, circling the words as though he’d wanted to stab them with his pen.

  The Phantom was varied in his choice of victims, so no discernible pattern had been found. There was nothing that tied the women together, no indication of what they had done to catch his attention. The only commonality was that they all lived alone, but Naomi figured that was more a logistical consideration than a significant symbol.

  She heard the door open and was startled to realize that four and half hours had passed without her noticing. Cole was home.

  “Naomi?” His voice was impatient, hard.

  “In the living room,” she called out, surprised when he stormed in. Before she could say anything, he had pulled her to her feet, his hands gripping her shoulders.

  “What’s wrong?” His eyes were dark with worry, a frown marring his handsome face. “Are you okay?” He peered at her face, examining it in great detail.

  “Of course, I’m fine,” she replied, not understanding his urgency. “What’s wrong with—”

  His lips descended on hers, the kiss fast and hard. Big, warm hands tunneled in her hair, holding her head still. He moved in closer, pressing his warm body against hers. Before she could process all the delicious stimuli assaulting her senses he let her go, leaving her dazed.

  She could only watch in bemusement as he ran a hand through his hair, looking frazzled. She’d never seen Cole frazzled before, and she found it fascinating.

  “What was that about?” She could still feel her insides racing.

  He looked at her, incredulous. “What was that about?” he repeated, his eyes wide and unbelieving. “I’ve been calling you and texting you for the past four and half hours with no response. I’ve been worried sick.”

  “Oh.” Crap. “I never called you back.” She’d completely forgotten, so carried away with playing psychic Sherlock that she had left him hanging all afternoon.

  “No, you didn’t.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know if something had happened to you. I was tempted to hit the siren and race over here, but I restrained myself.”

  Naomi felt terrible. She’d made him worry, distracted him on the job. She was the worst.

  “I’m sorry.” She moved closer, keeping her voice soft. This was another step in the dance unfolding between them, another deliberate decision to strengthen this bond they shared. “Forgive me.” She repeated the same words he’d said to her the night before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he became motionless.

  His heated gaze was locked on her, but he didn’t move, his utter stillness an indication that she was in control. She tugged lightly on his neck, and he obliged, bringing his face closer to hers. She reached her hand to his cheek, her touch tentative. He was still, letting her set the pace.

  He wanted her to feel comfortable, she realized, his stillness an attempt to be nonthreatening. She touched her lips lightly to his. Then, emboldened by her own actions, she deepened the kiss, her tongue seeking his.

  She drank in his scent, was drawn to the heat of his warm body. Her hands brushed down his arms, feeling the tight muscles, reveling in the power he kept leashed as he let her have her way with him. She broke away for a breath, dizzy with wanting him.

  “Do you forgive me?” Her gaze was drawn to this strong jaw, and she indulged herself by pressing a soft kiss against the rough stubble by his chin. She wanted to explore his face with kisses as he had done to her. She glanced up at him, feeling his erection at her openly sensual perusal. Tilting her head, she waited for his answer. “Well?”

  He moved, a potent mix of coiled muscles and intent male focus. Naomi was lifted and carried over to the marble countertop that separated the kitchen from the dining room, placed on it. Guiding her legs around his waist, his hands settled on her ass, anchoring her to him.

  “Not even close,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “I definitely haven’t forgiven you yet.” He bent his head to nip at her neck, and his stubble scraped her sensitive skin, sending shivers of awareness down her spine. “Try apologizing to me some more.”

  She buried her hands in his silky black hair as he leaned in to bite her earlobe, sending tremors through her. His hands traveled underneath her sweatshirt and she arched into his touch, loving the feel of his warm, rough hands on her skin.

  She was drowning in sensations as his lips took hers again, branded her. Possessed. She craved more, was spiraling into a place where only his touch existed, her entire body melting
at the never-ending stream of long, drugging kisses. Her desire skyrocketed, demanding more, needing him.

  When their lips finally broke apart, she was still wrapped around him. Cole nuzzled her neck. “I have a feeling I’m never going to be able to stay mad at you,” he murmured, his mouth brushing the delicate skin beside her throat, his tongue touching her hammering pulse in a gentle caress. “Having you in my house is driving me crazy.” It was a loaded declaration. “I want you.”

  She shivered in both anticipation and arousal. “I want you, too.”

  It was a big admission, but a part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind and experience the mind-altering ecstasy of being with Cole before she left Boston. She didn’t want to spend her life wondering what it would have been like between them. Even if it was only once, she wanted to know. Needed to know.

  “Good,” he said, his hands moving underneath her shirt, skimming over her abdomen to cup her breasts. She could feel her nipples becoming hard buds, aching for his touch. “Now,” he whispered, his thumbs caressing the sensitive tips, making her mindless with pleasure, giving her a glimpse of what was to come. “Tonight. All night.”

  Tonight. Reality came crashing back as she recalled her impressions from the afternoon and the grim task that awaited them. She needed to go back to Lily’s apartment, the realization a splash of cold water extinguishing any pleasure she felt.

  “Cole, wait.” Had she been so eager for sexual stimulation that she’d forgotten her priorities? Did she need a man so desperately that she’d put her own desire before avenging Lily’s killer? “Stop.”

  At her words, he stiffened, immediately stepping back to give her room. Naomi dropped her legs from around his waist, feeling the absence of his warmth, but knowing they had more important things to do than devouring each other on a countertop.

  Cole’s jaw was clenched, his grey eyes filled with questions and a hint of uncertainty.

  “I’m not sorry.” She threw more of his earlier words back at him. She couldn’t stand the thought that he would think she regretted what had happened between them. “I’m not sorry for kissing you, but I am sorry for not calling you back and worrying you.”

  His big body relaxed. “It’s ok.” Stepping toward her again, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I forgive you.” Naomi wanted to lean into his touch, to pretend that they were two normal people who had met under ordinary circumstances, forging the bonds of intimacy. But that would never be her reality. She’d never be normal.

  Cole helped her off the counter and held her hand as he led her back to the living room, eying the papers she’d spread out.

  “Is this the reason you lost track of time?”

  She nodded. “I wanted to take another look now that I ...” she trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence.

  “Now that you what?” His tone was light, and she felt his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand, the touch easy and comforting. She wasn’t fooled.

  Naomi could sense the focus behind his relaxed demeanor. Despite his unhurried touches, he knew what she was about to say had been important. He was always piecing things together, his detective instincts a core part of his nature. She wondered what he’d say if she told him that the two of them weren’t that different after all.

  She dropped her gaze to the coffee table, not knowing how to answer. She had taken steps toward building trust, but he was asking her to reveal one of her most shameful secrets, veritable proof of her cowardice. He would look at her with disdain, or worse—pity. A man like Cole, who embodied strength, would never understand what it was like to be weak. To be broken.

  “Talk to me.” His voice was husky, his eyes intent on hers. “Whatever it is, you can say it.” His hand squeezed hers, offering reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, trying to figure out where to start. How to start. He didn’t rush her, let her take her time in finding the right words. In his line of work, silence was often the most effective weapon, a hole that people were only too eager to fill with secrets.

  Once again, she was struck by the difference between knowing something rationally and understanding it on an emotional level. Trust was such an abstract concept in theory, but here she was, faced with the realization that she would have to take another leap, to have faith that Cole wouldn’t turn away from her.

  She released his hand and sat down, unable to look at him while revealing the truth. She focused instead on a picture of Lily, to remind herself of why she was taking such risks to begin with. She could do this. She didn’t want any secrets between them, not when he had tried so hard to meet her halfway.

  “I wanted to look at these files again,” she said. “Now that I’m not taking medication anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Medication.

  The word hung between them as Cole stared at the top of Naomi’s bent head, trying to process what he had just learned. His mind whirled with questions. What medications was she on? Why? He saw her tense and understanding dawned. She expected him to be angry with her.

  “Naomi.” He kept his voice soft, as tenderness welled up inside him. “Look at me.” When she refused, he sat on the couch beside her and reached out to tilt her chin toward him. She looked unsettled, her blue eyes worried and ashamed. “It’s ok.”

  She let out a shaky breath.

  He let go of her face and placed his hand over hers. “What were you taking?”

  “Sleeping pills.” Her voice was flat, emotionless. “Prescription. I’ve been taking them since I left Boston. I couldn’t ...” she trailed off, her gaze falling to their intertwined hands.

  “You couldn’t sleep,” he finished. She’d left Boston, devastated and alone, forced to cope with the emotional trauma of what had happened.

  “It was hard for me ... to get through the night,” she said. “The stress, the media.” Her voice wavered. “Shauna.” She swallowed and composed herself. “It wasn’t the best time.”

  She was skimming details, he realized, to spare his feelings. Cole felt another kick in his heart. She never ceased to amaze him with the depth of her compassionate nature.

  “My abilities disappeared completely until right before you showed up,” she continued. “When I started having impressions and visions again I was scared. I figured that if I doubled the dose of the pills they would block my abilities.”

  “Block?”

  “The pills made everything a little fuzzy, like there was a barrier between the outside world and what I could sense.” Her eyes were filled with so much pain that it tore at him. “Before you came to my door I hadn’t been using my abilities at all. I thought I was crazy, that I couldn’t trust what I was sensing.”

  He hurt for her, hating the suffering she endured as she doubted the very essence of an integral part of her being. You made me doubt my heartbeat. Her words echoed in his mind. He hadn’t understood what she meant at the time. Now, he did.

  “Cole.” She squeezed his hand, bringing his attention back to her. “I’ve already told you I forgive you. Now you have to forgive yourself.”

  He must have looked shocked because a tiny smile lit her face, chasing the shadows that lingered in her eyes. “I didn’t read your mind,” she said, reading his mind again. “It was written on your face.”

  “Your abilities vanished?” he prompted.

  She nodded. “They went away,” she said. “Even the impressions. They came back the morning you showed.”

  But if that was the case ... “The impressions you received, and the night at Lily’s apartment?”

  “I’ve been experimenting with doses,” she explained. “It turns out if I take a half-pill during the day, it lets some impressions through, but not visions.” She looked down again. “I’m sorry.”

  Jesus. He’d seen her come out of Lily’s bedroom, pale and shaken, had heard the strain in her voice as she explained what she’d seen. He knew firsthand the toll it took
on her body, and that wasn’t even Naomi at full strength.

  “Fuck,” he swore, hating the entire situation. “Don’t apologize. I would have done the same thing. You needed to protect yourself.” There hadn’t been anyone there to do it for her. “You still went to her apartment and tried to help her.” He took her other hand in his, grasping them both, willing her to believe him. “You knew what it would cost you, and you did it anyway. It’s incredibly brave.” He would make sure she never faced those horrors alone ever again.

  “Brave?” Her voice wavered on the word, as though it was a foreign concept. “It’s the opposite of brave. I didn’t tell you or Owen about the pills. I should have gone fully open to Lily’s. Maybe then we—”

  “No,” he interrupted, infusing every ounce of cop authority he had into the one word. “You weren’t ready then, and we don’t know what would have happened. It seems you’re ready now.” He paused as the pieces fell into place. “You want to go back to Lily’s apartment.”

  “How did you know?” she asked, surprised.

  “I detected, as I do,” he teased, wanting to hear her laugh. He reveled in the feminine sound that lightened the tension in the room. She sobered too soon for his liking and tugged her hands free to grab the pad of paper from the table. She explained her experiments from that afternoon.

  “You tried this alone?” He didn’t like the idea of her being so vulnerable without anyone to watch out for her.

  “It’s not really a team sport,” she shrugged. “That’s just how it is.”

  “I don’t want you to open yourself up to that kind of thing unless I’m here.” He heard the possessiveness in his tone, but was unable to stop it. He was a protective bastard, and Naomi was his. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but it was an unshakable truth.

  “I can’t do that.” She shook her head. “This is something I need to do.” She held up a hand before he could say anything. “I’m not going to be melodramatic and insist I have to do this all alone, but I won’t be held back because you’re not around. I’ll take precautions.”