Read Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 Online

Authors: Cassandra Chandler

Tags: #Psychics;Psychometry;Ghosts;Possession;Second Chances;Private Investigator;Alligators

Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 (10 page)

She didn’t reach for the cash as he’d expected. Instead, her eyes narrowed. She put her hands on the counter and leaned forward in an aggressive stance.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“My friend and I are just passing through town.”

“Good for you. Get on with it.”

Finn smiled at her, turning up the charm. Her lips pressed together more tightly. Perfect. She might be resisting him, but that meant he was at least affecting her.

“We’re hoping you can settle something for us.” He glanced at Jazz, then said, “I was telling my friend that this is the town where that serial killer grew up. You know…” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned forward. “Michael Angelo.”

“Get the hell out of my bar.”

Jazz jumped in. “I told you this isn’t the town. If it was, they’d be cashing in on the publicity.”

The bartender snorted again. “Right. Cops and reporters hassling your regulars is great for business. They didn’t find anything here for them and neither will you.”

Her gaze lingered on a seat a few spots to Finn’s right.

“I’m not talking regulars,” Jazz said. “I meant tourists. Florida is already full of them. If Clearview is where that guy grew up, you could advertise it and draw in more business. Charge an admission fee just to get into the place for special events.”

“Events?”

Jazz had the woman hooked. Damn, she was a natural at this. He should have known, with the way she ran her gallery.

“His birthday. Halloween. You could make a whole show of it. Cash in on the creep factor.”

The bartender leaned back, considering. Jazz kept on, pressing her advantage.

“Of course, you might catch some flak from his family. Does he have any in the area?”

The woman’s gaze flicked back to that seat. Finn was able to track it better this time. Three stools over.

“You leave him alone. Travis is a good man.”

Perfect. Now we have a name.

Finn leaned forward, keeping his elbows on his knees so he didn’t touch the counter. “She didn’t mean anything, Nell.”

The woman and Jazz both stared at Finn. He wasn’t sure why.

“What?” he asked.

Nell lowered her voice to a very menacing register. “How do you know my name?”

Shit. Did he? He hadn’t even touched anything. How could he have picked that up? His mind spun, trying to come up with an explanation. He needed to keep it together. He needed to get her off their case for long enough to read Travis’s spot.

“Okay, you caught us,” Finn said. “We had this idea for building a tourist trap in Clearview. My friend here is a marketing genius. We thought maybe we’d scope the place out. See if there’s partnership potential.”

“There’s not,” Nell said. “So you keep on moving out of town.”

“Okay, okay. We get it.” He held up his hands and nodded. He gave her his best smile and said, “Can I at least finish my eggs?”

She snorted, then snatched up his money and stalked away.

Chapter Thirteen

Jazz was ready to leave. She wanted to head back to Summer Park, burn their clothes, bleach the inside of her SUV, and spend three days in the shower. Maybe she could convince Finn to join her.

As soon as the bartender went back into the kitchen, Finn stood up. He didn’t head for the exit as Jazz had hoped. Instead, he walked to a different barstool and sat.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“This is where Travis always sits. I need to read the spot.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

They were in a public place. He could get lost in the memory. He could get a horrible disease from touching something in the bar. Jazz had looked at the floor once since coming in. Things were…moving.

“We need to know more about him. Who he is, where he lives. Scoot my plate over here, will you? It’ll be less conspicuous.”

She glanced at the plate. The eggs were half-liquid. It was one thing to have a ratty place, but the bartender—
Nell
—could have at least cooked the eggs properly.

“How did you know the bartender’s name?”

“I must have picked it up somehow.”

“What, by reading the seat through your ass?”

He busted out laughing, then shook his head. Part of her delighted in hearing him laugh. Most of her was terrified.

“This is serious. Have your powers gone airborne or something?” she asked.

If they did, she would have to get him away from people, away from civilization. It would be the only way to keep him sane.

“No. It must have been something I picked up from reading Michael’s memories earlier. Or maybe from Travis.”

She wasn’t buying it. Something about the whole thing felt wrong—beyond his powers being whacked out.

“Jazz, please. You’ve been so keen on helping me. I need you now.”

Dammit.

She pushed the plate over to him, then set up her dishes at the seat next to it. She still couldn’t bring herself to sit down.

“I’ll be right here.”

“Give me ten minutes tops. If I’m not done, shake me out of it anyway.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like anything about this. Her stomach was still in knots from giving that woman ideas for ways to use Michael Angelo as a
marketing tool
. Jazz hadn’t known what else to do. If she ever found out this place was acting on those suggestions, she wouldn’t forgive herself.

But they had made progress. They had a name for Michael’s cousin. And if this worked out, they would know even more.

Finn put his hands on the counter. No more time for self-recrimination. She needed to keep her attention on him.

His eyes became blank. Maybe that was a good sign? At least he wasn’t talking to himself. If she needed to snap him out of it, she could kick the barstool out from under him. Comforted by her plan, she crossed her arms and watched him work.

He was handling everything remarkably well. Yeah, he kept making snarky comments and he had yelled a few times, but he had flown off the handle on a regular basis when they were a couple. Either time or this had calmed him down. She hoped it helped him find happiness. With someone else.

Enough with the maudlin self-pity.

She was tired. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and had no idea when she’d sleep again. But she was with Finn, and he kept looking at her with those soulful eyes, holding on to her longer than was necessary.

She wanted to put her hand on his back. Run her fingers through his hair. Okay, she wanted to pull off his tank top and see if he really was in just as good of shape as the last time she’d seen him shirtless.

She wanted to do much more than that. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go.

One touch. One tiny touch…

But she had no idea how that would affect him. She kept her hands to herself.

“Look at that.”

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the voice that was too close for comfort. She turned around slowly, uncrossing her arms and shifting her weight to put herself between Finn and the four guys blocking the door to the bar.

They reeked of beer, and the smell wasn’t just coming from the pitcher in the front man’s hand. Each was smaller than Finn, but there were four of them. Jazz wished she had let Finn teach her more about fighting.

“You lost, little lady?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

How much time did Finn need? How much time was left before she was supposed to snap him out of it?

“I heard you talking to Nell about trying to bring in some tourists. I think that’s a fine idea.”

“Great. Take it up with your local Chamber of Commerce.”

They all laughed and the three men behind him said, “Woooo.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve already got it all worked out. We were just saying we can take you around. Show you what Clearview’s got to offer.”


My friend
and I are fine on our own, thanks.”

She didn’t want to call their attention to Finn, but needed them to know she wasn’t alone. And at the same time, she kind of wanted to start screaming for help. She doubted there were any police nearby. To make things worse, the last solitary customer stood and half ran out of the place, as if he was scared.

Shit. What did he know that she didn’t?

She focused on the four men in front of her, took in the way they were looking at her, and panicked. She pushed it down.

Where was the bartender?

“Your friend over there seems more messed up than us. When did he start in, anyway?”

The three guys laughed while the ringleader just smiled at her.

“He really likes eggs,” she said.

“I’d be paying more attention to you. I bet he spends more time with that shiny SUV outside. That thing’s barely got a speck of dirt on it.”

She hadn’t noticed the guy leave or come back. It unnerved her to imagine him eyeing her car while thinking about her and Finn.

“A man shouldn’t spend more time on his ride than his woman. Unless of course—”

She refused to let him finish his lewd comment. “Actually, the SUV is mine.”

“Is it now? I do like a woman with fine taste. Why don’t you let your friend there finish his eggs and we can all go for a ride in that fancy car of yours. We can show you those sights and maybe talk about those plans you got.”

“My only plan is to stay here.”

“Come on. I heard your friend say you’re a genius. You gotta have a few more ideas for bringing people to the bar in that gorgeous head of yours.”

How the hell did this guy have such good hearing?

One of the guys behind him laughed. “I have one. Wet T-shirt contest.”

He grabbed the front guy’s arm and flung the pitcher of beer at Jazz. Her shirt was doused and she stumbled back into Finn, knocking him off the stool.

“What the fuck?” she shouted.

The men started to laugh. Jazz felt her shirt plastered to her front. She didn’t bother crossing her arms to cover herself. They probably wanted her to feel cowed, and she refused to give them the satisfaction. Also, she was wearing a bikini top under her shirt—she always wore bikinis under her clothes so she could hit the pool the moment she went home at night. They weren’t getting the view they were after.

Mostly, she wanted her hands free so she could grab some bottles from behind the counter and smash them over these guys’ heads.

She felt strong hands clasp her arms and lifted her foot to stomp on the guy’s instep. She realized it was Finn just in time. Before anyone could say anything else, the bartender stormed out of the kitchen. With a shotgun.

“What the hell is going on out here?” she shouted.

“Hey, Nell.” The front guy—all of them—acted contrite. He pointed at Jazz and said, “We were just welcoming these two strangers to Clearview.”

“And flinging my good beer all over the place for me to clean up.”

“If she’d been a little friendlier—”

Nell shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re all banned for a week. If I see you in here before then, I’ll call the sheriff.”

“A week? You can’t—”

“I can and I did. Now go home and sleep it off. Unless you’d rather spend the rest of the day in the drunk tank. Again.”

As the men filed out, the glares they cast at Jazz made her skin crawl. It took all her strength not to lean back into Finn.

The bartender was Jazz’s new hero. Nell walked over to them and threw her rag on the floor in the center of the beer that hadn’t soaked into Jazz’s clothes.

“Thank you,” Jazz said.

“Thank me? You just cost me four of my best customers for a week. Do you even know what that’s going to mean for my business?”

She didn’t, but from the looks of things, the bar was barely making ends meet.

“I can make up for it,” Jazz said. “I have money.”

“Keep your goddamned money. Just get the
fuck
out of my bar and don’t come back.”

Finn gripped Jazz’s arm more tightly and led her to the door.

“Finn—”

“I know. Just keep walking.”

The men from the bar were clustered around a truck parked in the back corner of the lot. Jazz unlocked her doors quickly, her heart pounding.

When they were in the car, she said, “Is Nell going to be okay?”

“They won’t take this out on her. She’s their source for a bar. We’re a different matter, though. We need to leave. Now.”

Jazz started the car and kicked it into gear, trying not to seem too much in a hurry. She wanted to floor it. She wanted to go back to the parking lot and run them over.

“What the hell was wrong with those people? Who throws beer? Seriously! And the whole, ‘Hey baby, let’s all go for a ride in your SUV.’ Give me a fucking break.”

“They tried to get you to leave with them?”

Finn’s voice was quiet. Disturbingly so.

“It was no big deal.”

“You should have snapped me out of it.”

“You were busy.”

“Jazz, don’t dismiss this. Guys like that can do a hell of a lot worse than douse you in beer.”

“They didn’t make a move. I was ready to scream for help.”

“And who would have come to your rescue?” He let out a deep sigh. “Some small towns, even down on their luck, the people pull together and help each other. Others go bad. This one is about the worst I’ve ever felt. In a town like this, you keep your head down and your mouth shut. You don’t look too close at what other people are doing.”

“I handled it. Deal—” She stopped herself again, clamping her mouth shut.

Finn shook his head. “This is why I didn’t want you coming along. You’re too cocky. You’re going to get hurt. We should turn around and head back to Summer Park.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Against four guys? Come on.”

“I had you to back me up.”

“Four guys, Jazz. I would have gotten my ass kicked if it wasn’t for Nell.”

The thought of Finn trying to fight them off—and failing—sent ice shooting through Jazz’s veins. Her imagination painted a scene with him on the ground, them surrounding him…

“And they wouldn’t have been finished after me. Do you even realize how dangerous that situation was?”

Yes. She did. She just didn’t want to think about it. That had honestly been one of the scariest moments of her life. She didn’t need to be psychic to see what the ringleader at least had in mind.

She wanted to have the courage to help Finn, to keep moving forward with him.
Nothing
would stop her.

“If something happened to you…” he said.

Her heart was still pounding, but suddenly for a different reason. She wanted him to finish his sentence. Wanted to hear him say he still cared.

“If something happened to me what?”

“Forget it.” He shook his head. “I know who we’re looking for. I have a good idea of where he lives. Head back to Summer Park. I’ll pick up my car and take it from here.”

“What about your powers malfunctioning? You need me.”

“They worked fine back in the bar. Maybe now that I’m on the case, Siobhan’s spirit is taking it easy on me. Hell, maybe she’ll even help.”

Replaced by a ghost. Harsh.

“What if you’re wrong?”

“As you so often say—I’ll deal with it.”

And that was it. No more chances to fix things between them. Maybe they’d never be a couple again, but she had missed him. His absence in her life left a gaping hole. She wanted them to at least be friends.

She hadn’t even realized that hope had bloomed in her until he stamped it out. End of opportunity.

Except she didn’t want it to be. She didn’t want things to be over. The thought of Finn lost in a serial killer’s memory while an accomplice crept up on him sent a chill through her. She needed time to change his mind.

She needed to change.

“I stink,” she said.

Finn turned back to her.

“I stink like cheap beer. I don’t want the smell getting stuck in the upholstery. Summer Park is hours away. Let’s find a place to clean up first. Okay?”

He sighed, but nodded. “Okay.”

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