Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 (5 page)

Chapter Seven

Jazz wished that Finn was farther away. Or closer. She wasn’t sure which she would prefer. He was too close for her to ignore the effect he always had on her, but not close enough for her to really enjoy it.

Now that he wasn’t trying to crush her against the wall, she was back to appreciating his size. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Garrett—then again, who was?—but Finn was packed with muscle. She could see the outlines of his pecs through his tank top, traces of his chest hair peeking out.

Do not think about Finn’s chest.

She needed to focus on the issue at hand. He was trying to shut her out again, and she wouldn’t stand for it.

“I’m not going to let this go,” she said.

“I kind of figured.”

She felt herself relax an infinitesimal amount. At least their history helped him know when she wasn’t about to back down.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to figure this out. I’m just saying you can be smarter about it. If these walls are pulling you into Michael’s memories so strongly that you can’t find your way out on your own, maybe you should try less visceral spots.”

The paintings were physically linked to the women Michael had killed. Strongly linked. It would be as bad as reading the chains in his garage. Jazz stifled a shiver at the memory of red-crusted metal—Rachel’s blood on the manacles attached to those chains.

There would be other places in Michael’s house that Finn could read, though. Places that might not be as strongly connected to Michael but could still give them useful information. She doubted Finn would have come to the gallery if he knew where Michael lived. They could go there and try to find another lead. Very carefully.

“You sound like you have something in mind,” Finn said.

“I do, but I’m not telling you until we’ve talked to Tommy.”

Tommy. She couldn’t believe she’d get to talk to him. She had missed him too. Her head started to swirl again as she thought about his heart attack. She could have lost him without having a chance to say goodbye. Just like she’d lost her own father.

Never
think about Father.

Tommy. Think about Tommy.

She wanted to see him with her own eyes—to know he was okay. There was no way Finn could move on without her this time. He was stuck with her.

“I’ll drive,” she said.

“Aren’t you afraid people will see us together?”

They were
not
going to have this argument again. Not after all these years. Not now.

“I have tinted windows.”

He glared at her, but then let out a sigh and shook his head. “Fine.”

She had expected more of a fight. Finn giving in so easily only made her more worried.

“Come on, then.”

Her SUV was parked right in front of the gallery. In this part of town, shops closed up and people went home early. At least, on a boring Wednesday night. She could actually find parking on the street.

“That is a big-ass SUV,” Finn said. “I thought you didn’t want to own a car.”

Jazz shrugged. The car beeped as she hit the button to unlock the doors. “I need it for transporting art.”

She had removed all but the seats right after buying it and laid out a tarp for extra padding. She wasn’t even sure where the seats were anymore. Maybe somewhere in the gallery or the storage unit for her apartment. At the moment, the back space of the vehicle was empty and roomy. Big enough for two.

Dammit. Stop thinking about Finn. Especially that way.

They climbed in and buckled up. Finn was sitting next to her. It was like a dream. If only the circumstances were different.

The bar was halfway across town. He broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Dad’s been reading tons of Westerns since the doctors told him to take it easy.” Finn fiddled with the brim of Tommy’s hat. “When the library ran out of new ones, he started reading romances set in the west. Now he’s hooked and reads anything he can get his hands on, no matter where or when it’s set. He especially likes the historicals, though.”

“I can absolutely picture your dad reading a romance novel.”

Jazz laughed, and Finn joined her. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to hear. Her heart skipped from the sound. What kind of a fool was she?

“Yeah, he’s not shy about liking them. He’s been chatting up the regulars, going on and on about the stories.”

She imagined Tommy leaning across the bar, holding a dog-eared paperback with the cover bent backward as he pointed out a particular passage. Tommy had a way with people. He was always kind, an incredible listener, and gave good advice when asked. Everybody loved him.

It warmed her heart to think of Finn and his dad still living together and taking care of each other. Talking to Finn like this… It was bringing back memories of the first few weeks when they were dating, before things had become complicated.

“You’re still above the bar?”

“We like it above the bar,” he snapped.

And the moment passed. “I know you do. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought you might have moved into your own place at some point.”

“Dad needs me.”

“I get that. I was thinking about before his…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say it. She shook her head. “It’s been years, Finn. Things happen.
Change
happens.”

Finn let out a huge sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. It was down-soft. She knew.

“I’m sorry. It’s been hard to keep a lid on my temper with all of this crap going on.”

“It’s understandable.” Rather than wade into the nebulous waters of their emotions, she pulled on her pragmatic façade. “When did your powers start acting up?”

“The day Michael Angelo was killed. I ran it down with the little bit of information I could find. I never would have guessed such a big story could be squelched like this was.”

“It was a good thing. The people involved have been through enough.”

Jazz felt her fingers tighten on the wheel. She wished she could break it in two. It might make her feel better since there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to change what had happened to her friends.

“I know Elsa was involved.” He spoke gently, but Jazz felt as if she’d been slapped. She stared at him, wondering how he had found out.

Elsa had ridden in the SUV a couple of times since that night, but Finn’s hands were carefully folded in his lap. His gloves were on. While she stared, he suddenly reached for the wheel, jerking it toward him.

“Watch the road!”

Adrenaline flooded her system. Jazz looked back through the windshield at the parked car she had almost side-swiped.

When her heart stopped pounding in her throat, she asked, “How did you know?”

“That we were about to crash? I looked out the window.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant.”

She heard him sigh.

“I didn’t read your car, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know how you feel about that.” He was quiet for a few moments, then said, “Garrett told me.”

She let out an exasperated burst of air. The more word spread about Elsa and Rachel’s involvement, the more chances there were for people to start bothering them about what had happened. Jazz was going to have to remind Garrett of that fact the next time she saw him.

“I know you’re blaming Garrett, but I would have figured it out anyway. I can see how upset you are about the whole thing and know the only person you care about that much is Elsa.”

Jazz let out a snort and shook her head. “I care about a lot of people.”

Including the dumbass sitting next to her. She bit her tongue before saying more. Fate was always listening.

“Yeah.”

That edge of tension she hated so much was coming to his voice again. It had always preceded their fights.

Instead of a snarky retort or escalation, he asked, “Is she doing okay? I haven’t heard from Garrett in a while.”

“She’ll be fine. Her boyfriend got the worst of it.”

“How’s Dante doing?”

“He’ll be fine.” She refused to believe otherwise.

Finn seemed to sense that he shouldn’t push that line of inquiry. He let out a little scoff. “I still can’t believe Elsa’s shacking up with someone.”

“She’s an amazing woman. Why is it so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just imagined you two becoming spinsters together.”

“You think
spinster
is part of my life’s plans?”

She glanced over at him. He was glaring at her. Then he looked away.

Yeah. There it was.

She had always guessed that Finn wanted the whole package. Marriage, kids, picket fence. Jazz wasn’t interested. She didn’t need rings or ceremonies to bind herself to Finn. He shouldn’t either. And even though Jazz loved her nieces and kids in general, motherhood was not for her.

She’d tried to bring up the subject once while they were dating. He’d scared her off from the topic before she could ask if it was a deal-breaker.

“Kids? Kids are great. I have all of these cousins with bunches of them. I wish I had nieces and nephews to enjoy, but…you know. Curses of an only child.”

The whole conversation had been so awkward and his reference to curses had freaked her out. They’d only been dating for a few weeks at the time. His position seemed pretty clear, though. She had hoped maybe after they’d been together longer if she brought it up again it wouldn’t be an obstacle. He’d left her before she had a chance.

She’d known she was fooling herself anyway.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s just going to be me knitting on the porch in a rocking chair.”

He let out a sharp laugh.

“What is it now?”

He ignored her cutting tone.

“That is the funniest mental image. No matter how I try to picture it, I always see you standing up and throwing aside the needles, and saying, ‘Seriously?’ before storming off the porch.”

At least he understood that domesticity wasn’t for her.

They didn’t have a chance to say more. Jazz pulled up to the curb in front of his place. A few cars still dotted the street. The bar had probably just closed. Her heart beat in her throat as they walked toward the front door.

Tommy had named the place Connelly’s and their name was painted on a tasteful and understated sign that stuck out above the street. Jazz had tried to get Tommy to let her upgrade the storefront, but he wouldn’t budge. He had teased her that she’d have to wait till Finn ran the place, since she had more sway over him.

The windows were coated with opaque dark green paint to give the people inside privacy. Finn popped his dad’s hat onto his head and opened the door, then held it in place with his foot. Even wearing gloves, he seemed not to want to touch anything for too long. That handle was probably layered with memories, some of them recent, most of them clouded from drink.

She slipped past him quickly so he could get away from the door.

Connelly’s… She had missed this place too. The smells had changed. At closing, the scent of cleaner was front and center. But instead of the air being thick with grease, it was lighter. The sharpness of smoked meat was the main note she detected instead of the fryer.

“When did you guys start doing BBQ?” she asked.

“Daphne talked dad into setting up a smoker. She’s a really good cook.”

Daphne again. Jazz’s replacement.

“I know how you feel about BBQ outside of KC,” Finn said, “but you really should give it a try.”

There was laughter in his tone, and for a moment, Jazz could almost believe things were back to the way they had been before. They used to meet at the bar most weeknights. The three of them would eat dinner together and talk, then Tommy would go to bed. Finn and Jazz would sit up and talk before finding their way to his room.

Jazz couldn’t care less about Daphne’s BBQ. She
could
care a hell of a lot less about Daphne cozying up to the Connellys.

The woman of the hour stepped out from the kitchen—at least, Jazz assumed it was Daphne. She held a plastic tub that reeked of bleach in one hand and a rag in the other.

Why couldn’t she be ugly?

No such luck. Her black hair was lustrous and hung down to her shoulder blades in soft curls. She had a pale complexion and eyes that were a rich mahogany brown. Her bone structure was delicate, like the rest of her.

Great. The pair of them were Snow White and Prince Charming. Finn said they weren’t a couple, but it was only a matter of time.

Not my business. Not anymore.

“Hi Finn.” Daphne had a soft, gentle voice. “Who’s your friend?”

Finn hesitated. Yeah, they weren’t a couple.

“This is Jazz.”

Daphne’s big cartoon eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

Enough!
Jazz pulled her uncharitable thoughts to task.

Daphne was helping Finn and his dad with the bar. That was more than Jazz had been able to do the last couple of years. If Finn and his dad were happy and Daphne was part of that, Jazz should be hugging the woman, not letting catty thoughts run through her mind. Jazz wouldn’t heap her own issues on someone else. She would deal with it.

Daphne set her cleaning supplies on the bar. “You’re Jazz?”

Daphne knew who Jazz was? Why would Finn and Tommy still be talking about her after all this time?

Daphne stammered and smiled. A genuine smile. Jazz didn’t want to trust it. She felt herself warming up to Daphne anyway.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Daphne said. “I’ve heard so much—”

Daphne looked over Jazz’s shoulder and shook her head as if parroting someone else’s movement. Changing tack, she said, “I mean…I’ve heard nothing. Nothing at all about you.”

Jazz couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Wow, you are a terrible liar.”

Daphne gave Jazz another of those heart-melting smiles. “I’ve never put much effort into it. The truth is usually good enough for me.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Daphne, when you’re done wiping down the bar—” Tommy stepped through the door that led to the kitchen.

Jazz felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Tommy had acted like a father to her—had
felt
like a father. He had helped fill that gaping hole in her heart. She had thought she and Finn were headed toward a lifelong commitment. She had let herself get attached. Too attached. And she’d been paying for it for years.