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.
She should have known better—that she and Finn wouldn’t work out. There were too many obstacles.
You don’t name your bar “Connelly’s” without expecting a long line of heirs to run the place.
Tommy smiled at her. “Well, I’ll be. Jazz Zhou. Sorry, I mean Zhou Jazz. I never could quite get the hang of that.”
Dammit, she was tearing up. She forced herself to smile back. Not that smiling at Tommy took much effort.
“Hey, Tommy.” Her voice was high and tight.
Tommy made her feel like a teenager. Ever since the moment he’d walked in on her in Finn’s bed—naked after they’d slept together for the first time. Tommy had blushed furiously while trying to make conversation until Finn walked in and introduced her.
Tommy had quickly retreated saying, “You kids have fun.”
Her father had never walked in on Jazz with a boy. Jazz hadn’t started dating till college and her family couldn’t afford visits back then. They had planned to come out to celebrate Jazz’s graduation.
They hadn’t made it.
And now Tommy was staring at her with that quirky smile half hidden under his ridiculous mustache. He looked older. More frail, but still strong. Like time was slowly wearing him away.
Tommy walked over to her and stared at her for a moment. Then he said, “Come here,” and pulled her into a hug.
Keep it together. Keep it together.
How was she supposed to do that when everything she ever wanted was right next to her and completely out of reach? Finn was a few steps away, she was surrounded by the place that felt more like home than anywhere she had ever lived, and she had let it all slip through her fingers. She had messed up.
“It’s good to see you.” She forced out the words.
Finn put his hand on her shoulder. Clenching her eyes shut, she fought the tears away. They didn’t need to see how much she…needed them.
Deal with it, Jazz. You made your choices. Now live with them.
Chapter Eight
“We need to talk,” Finn said.
He might have underestimated how much Jazz cared about his dad. She was clinging to him like her life depended on it. Finn shoved down the jealousy that was trying to rise up in him for the millionth time.
“In a minute, son. I’m not quite ready to let go.”
Neither was Jazz, from the look of it.
Finn used to try to comfort himself by thinking that Jazz wasn’t affectionate with anyone in public. He wanted to believe that was why she only ever scowled at him when other people were in the room. He had seen her give Elsa and Garrett quick hugs, though. And she was never shy about hugging his dad in front of people.
When it was just the three of them in the bar, she seemed to smile all the time. She’d pat their shoulders and give them hugs. Hell, she would even sit in Finn’s lap with a beer when they were having their late-night discussions. She’d acted like they were a family.
And when it was just the two of them…they’d been so much more. He could never read her, and yet always felt more connected to her than anyone he had ever known. He didn’t think he’d ever understand how she could seem so open one moment, then build a wall of ice the next.
He’d ask to take her out on the town, and she’d respond with stony silence. He would yet again beg her to tell Garrett or anyone that they were dating, and she’d shake her head and tell him no. Any time he tried to talk to her about it, she shut down. It drove him crazy.
Finn had to stop thinking about the past. She needed him right now. He would be there for her. He had never seen her so shaken. He knew she loved his dad, but still…
He kept his hand on her shoulder, hoping to lend her support and for a moment feel that connection they had all shared. Jazz finally stepped back. She actually ran a fingertip under her eye and leaned against Finn’s side.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her and nuzzle her hair. If Daphne hadn’t been in the room, he might have, but Jazz had conditioned him too well. No affection in front of anyone but Tommy.
Anyway, it only took her a second to realize what she was doing. She stiffened and moved away.
“It’s damned good to see you, Jazz.” Dad cast a glance at Finn that was all too clear. “Don’t screw this up again.”
“I can finish in the kitchen,” Daphne said. “Why don’t you three go upstairs?”
Dad shook his head. “No. We’re all family here. Come on and pull up a chair.”
“It needs to be upstairs, Dad.” Finn started for the front door, but Jazz ducked in front of him.
“I’ll do it.” She locked the door, keeping Finn from having to touch it again.
“Thanks.”
Dad was staring. Better to get this over with and keep him from building false hopes.
“Is that my hat?”
“Yeah.” Finn took it off and handed it over.
Dad ran his fingertips over the brim. He was reading it, trying to figure out what was going on.
Finn sighed. “Can we go upstairs? There’s way too much…ambient energy down here.”
“All right.”
Dad looked worried. The last thing he needed was more stress. Finn followed the group up the stairs, letting Jazz and the others go first. Once they reached the kitchen, Daphne took up her favorite spot leaning against the counter in front of the sink. Dad hung his hat on its hook on the wall, then sat at the table with Finn. Jazz sort of hovered nearby.
How to begin? Finn rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly, feeling a headache starting to build. He needed to just come out with it.
“You guys know something’s wrong. I didn’t want to worry you, but I haven’t been able to fix things myself.”
Tommy nodded. “What’s going on?”
“My powers aren’t working right. I’m getting stuck in memories. I don’t always remember…myself when I’m in a vision. And when I touch people, I read their thoughts almost instantly. Same deal. It’s like I’m them instead of me. I’m getting lost.” He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “That’s why I’m wearing gloves.”
Dad narrowed his ey
es and looked at Finn’s hands intently. “Then why did you go with leather?”
Shit. Finn realized his mistake as Dad started explaining for Daphne and Jazz. This was rookie stuff Dad had taught Finn when he was a kid.
“Leather transmits. These gloves might muffle readings a little, but you want silk to block energy.”
“I’ve read that before,” Jazz said. “You’re supposed to keep tarot cards and other metaphysical tools wrapped in silk to protect them from stray energy and cleanse them after use.”
Finn let out an exasperated sigh. He took off the nearly useless gloves and tossed them on the table.
Yeah, he should have come to his dad sooner. Even talking to Jazz about it more would have helped. She’d never taken him to her favorite bookstore, but talked about Bookwyrm often. She had studied all kinds of paranormal phenomena.
“I forgot about that,” Finn said. “Thanks. My head hasn’t been right for a while now.”
“We noticed.” Dad laughed.
He was trying to ease the tension, help Finn feel more comfortable. Man, Finn was a lucky bastard to have such great people in his life. Topping it off, Jazz stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder, prompting a sigh that was anything but exasperated.
She gave his shoulder a squeeze and said, “Finn’s powers are somehow being disrupted by a connection to the serial killer from a couple months back.”
That was way too blunt. Finn was trying to figure out how to tell Dad without giving away any details. He just…hadn’t worked out how to do that yet.
“Dammit, Jazz! I can tell them myself.”
She jumped, as if his outburst surprised her. Funny, they never had before. Sure, they’d prompted plenty of freeze-outs, but she had barely registered them in the past. A brief look of hurt crossed her face. That was new too.
“I’m sorry.”
It was too late, though. She crossed her arms and walked to the other side of the room, glaring at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m just raw.”
“We get that, son, but lashing out isn’t going to help anyone.”
Dad was probably more concerned about Finn chasing away Jazz than anything else.
No, that wasn’t fair. Dad was worried about Finn.
“I wish you’d come to us sooner. You shouldn’t have let it eat you up inside like this.”
“Yeah, well hindsight’s twenty-twenty.”
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help now and again,” Dad said.
Not this again.
“And if your powers aren’t working right, this is serious.”
“I know. I get it.” Finn could hear his voice rising. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out.
Dad turned to Daphne. “Can you run to Finn’s closet and bring back that dark blue silk shirt of his?”
“Sure.”
As soon as she had left, Jazz said, “You kept it?”
“Yeah, I kept it.” Finn would never let go of that shirt.
Jazz had given it to him early on. It reminded him of their best times together, when they had just switched from a professional relationship to a personal one. They had met when Jazz hired him to investigate an artist she thought might be a fraud. The case had been…complicated.
She’d learned about his powers before it was over, they’d worked together, and after the case was closed, they’d pretty much jumped each other. He still wasn’t sure who had started it.
Finn stood and took off his coat, then draped it over the back of his chair. He was wearing a cotton long-sleeved shirt over his tank top. He took the shirt off too and set it on top of his coat.
The silk shirt had short sleeves, but would still do a better job protecting him from random readings. Daphne returned and handed it over.
“Thanks.” He slid it on, aware of the many stares on him as he did. They were waiting for him. No more stalling. “The connection isn’t to the killer. It’s one of his victims. I’m having nightmares about what happened to her.”
As soon as Finn sat back down, Dad started his interrogation. “Was she someone you’d met before?”
“I don’t know. I guess she does seem familiar somehow, but that could be because I’m dreaming about her every night.”
Dad leaned on the table. “What happens in the dreams?”
“I basically experience what she did when she was being held by Michael Angelo. I’m chained to a wall and he’s… Well, the dreams are unpleasant and I can say wholeheartedly that I’m glad the sick bastard is dead.”
Daphne shifted her weight and said, “Could you have touched something the victim came into contact with? Maybe in the bar?”
“I thought about that. I don’t know how that could have happened. For these memories to be available, it would have to be something that she touched while she was being held captive. Only one person escaped, and I doubt she kept any mementos.”
“Two escaped,” Jazz said. “If you count Elsa.”
“You know one of his victims?” Daphne asked.
“I don’t know any victims,” Jazz said. “I do know both of the women who took him down.”
“Are they okay?”
Jazz nodded at Daphne. “They’re going to be fine. I’m more worried about Finn right now.”
What an admission. And after only knowing Daphne for a few minutes.
“Rachel’s the one who shot him,” Finn said.
“That’s Garrett’s friend,” Dad said. “I’ve heard him mention her.”
“Yeah, and if you would watch the news or read anything other than your books, you’d know Rachel’s dad is running for office soon. The whole thing has been swept under the rug. The lid they’re keeping on this is insane. They have to have something they’re using as leverage on a whole lot of people.”
Dad shook his head. “I can’t fault a man for trying to protect his daughter.”
Jazz let out a snort and everyone turned to her. She shrugged. “Rachel’s parents don’t give a crap about her. She’s a prop they use to appear like a perfect family. They’re covering their own asses, not hers.”
“That’s a cheery thought,” Daphne said.
“It’s the truth.”
“Where’s the connection, though?” Dad tapped his finger on the table. “Break it down for me.”
Finn’s dad was even more of a hidden weapon for his investigations than Finn’s powers. Finn could always count on him to give new insight into cases. Dad was the one who told him to start tracking Elsa when Finn’s investigation into Dante hit a wall. And really, that was when this had all started.
“Okay. So, Garrett calls me to look into Elsa’s new roommate.”
“He did what?” Jazz broke in.
Finn sighed. “It was after the break-in, when she refused to call the cops.”
Jazz looked like she was about to light into him again, but then cast a wary glance at Daphne.
“I already know about Dante being from the 1800s and Elsa’s ability to time travel,” Daphne said. “Finn was kind of flipping out when he figured things out, and the walls are really thin up here.”
“Great.” Jazz glared at Finn. That was going to cost him.
“Could we maybe stay focused?” Dad said. “You worked Garrett’s case and found the creepy guy, but never told me what came of it. You just said he was out of the picture.”
“Yeah,” Finn said. “Permanently. That was Michael Angelo.”
Jazz took a step toward him. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.
“You knew that Michael was stalking Elsa?”
“I knew someone was stalking Elsa,” Finn said. “You all did. And I let Garrett know what I’d found out as soon as I could. Turns out it was a little too late.”
“Come on now.” Dad tapped the table harder. �
�Let’s focus here. That was the first time you felt the guy’s energy. When did the dreams start?”
“The night he was killed.”
Dad leaned back, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling. “So, you’ve got the killer’s energy signature on you. He dies.”
Jazz cut in. “It can’t be his ghost.”
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“I’m just saying, it can’t be his ghost. His body was cremated. What?”
Finn finally turned back to Dad. They hadn’t really talked about ghosts before. But if psychometry and time travel were possible, why not ghosts?
“I can’t be haunted, can I?” Finn asked.
Dad turned back to stare at Finn.
“Michael killed a lot of women,” Jazz said. “Maybe one of them is trying to communicate with Finn. To get closure or something.”
“Why Finn?” Daphne asked.
“She could be sensing his power,” Jazz said. “Using it as a conduit.”
“No,” Dad said. “There would have to be a stronger connection than that. Something or someone that links them.”
“I really really hate to ask this,” Jazz said, “but has anyone in your family ever gone missing?”
Finn turned back to look at her. He had talked about his family a lot when they dated—not that there were many running around locally. Only Finn and his dad were in Florida. The rest were from Boston.
Of course, Jazz never bothered to share more than that she was from Kansas City. He didn’t even know which side of the state line.
Focus, Finn. Focus.
“Do the police know if Michael worked anywhere else?” Finn asked. “Any other states?”
“Not that they’ve mentioned,” she said. “The last I knew, the only clue they had is that Elsa and Rachel are both blonde. The police said maybe he had a type. They’re compiling a list of missing persons—” Jazz glanced over at Dad. “Tommy, wait!”
Finn turned to his dad, only to see him lurching across the table. He grabbed Finn’s hand and pulled him forward, holding it against his chest.
“Dad, let go! You don’t want to see—”
Shit, he hated it when Dad read him like this. It hadn’t happened since he was a kid. He felt the pull, the feedback from both of their powers colliding, then the click as they synched up.
Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 Page 7