The Touch

by Lisa Olsen

  “I don’t like to think I’m calling you up and disturbing your happy home; my momma didn’t raise me to be a homewrecker.”

  “You can tell your momma for me that I appreciate that, but no, you’re not disturbing anything at all. What about you? Are you home alone?”

  “There’s a cat around here somewhere, but seeing as how I’m not in the kitchen, he’s leaving me alone for the moment. Other than that, I’m all by my lonesome.”

  “I’ve never had a cat before, what’s her name?”

  “His name is Jake and he’s been my sole roommate for a few years now. You’ve really never had a cat before? Are you allergic?”

  “No, I never had much in the way of animals. You don’t get to do much petting when you’re wearing gloves.”

  “You can’t touch animals either?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t really tried; I’ve gotten used to having the gloves on all the time.” In theory she should be able to touch a cat, but she wasn’t sure if she’d pick up what the cat was thinking, or maybe get images of everyone who’d pet the cat before her.

  “So you really wear the gloves all the time? Even when you’re at home?”

  “Even in the shower,” she supplied, knowing people were curious about that. It was easier that way not to get an eyeful of whoever had taken the last shower before her. Maybe someday if she had her own bathroom she wouldn’t have to take such precautions, but she owed her housemates that bit of privacy. “I’m okay without them in my own room, but it’s generally a lot more peaceful in my head when I keep them on.” He was silent for a long moment, and she wondered if she’d spooked him again.

  “And you’ve never experimented with touching a person?”

  “It’s not the sort of thing that’s fun to experiment with. Would you want me seeing everything you’re thinking about when I touch you?”

  There was a brief pause before he answered, “I guess that depends on how you were touching me. What about when someone touches you?”

  That sparked all manner of images in her mind. Lexi might not have much experience with men, but there was nothing wrong with her imagination. Her voice was a little breathy when she replied, “that’s just fine, as long as you don’t touch my bare hands.”

  “Good to know,” he replied. A companionable silence stretched between them, each lost to their own thoughts. “I really should say goodnight though, like I said, I do have some more work to get back to.”

  “Right, I should probably go too. I wanted to get up early and go try again at Allie’s house tomorrow.”

  “That’s a good idea, call me if you get anything, okay?”

  “I will,” she promised. “Thanks for calling.”

  “Good night, Lexi.”

  “Bye Gabriel,” she replied, smiling to herself for long minutes after he’d hung up. Movements slow and lazy, she got ready for bed, changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair brushed and swiftly plaited into loose braids that hung down the back of her shoulders. She was still smiling when she went out to brush her teeth in the hall bathroom.

  “You like him, don’t you?” Paul asked, leaning against the open door jamb while she squeezed the toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

  “Who?”

  “That detective who was here the other day. That was him you were talking to just now, wasn’t it?”

  Lexi stared at him in the mirror, had he overheard her conversation? Her mind cast back to think if she’d said anything that would have clued him in to Gabriel’s identity or if she’d said anything inappropriate to be overheard. But in the end she had nothing to hide over the admission. “Yeah, I do like him. He’s a good guy.” Harder to find than one would have thought.

  “Then why were you so upset the other day over him?”

  “Because I like him.” Otherwise his discomfort around her wouldn’t have stung nearly as much, but Gabriel had rallied nicely. In fact, the conversation she had with him on the phone was one of the most natural and relaxed talks she’d had with a guy.

  “And he hurt you,” Paul insisted.

  Mouth full of toothpaste, Lexi looked back at him in the mirror, the brush busy against her teeth. It gave her a few precious minutes to figure out what she wanted say to him in return without sounding too defensive, as she had been about to answer instinctively. After a quick rinse, she patted her lips dry, turning to face Paul. “It’s sweet of you to play papa bear, but I can take care of myself. I’m not a little girl.”

  “You don’t know what some men are like…” he interrupted, not at all soothed by her assurance that she could take care of herself.

  “Yeah I do, and he’s one of the good ones, Paul. He’s a cop for crying out loud.”

  “And that means he can’t take advantage of you?” Paul laid his hands on top of her shoulders as if he wanted to shake some sense into her. “When are you going to wake up and see what’s right in front of you?”

  As Lexi stared back into his eyes, she wondered if they were talking about the same thing anymore, or if they’d wandered into dangerous territory. “I see things clearly enough,” she replied softly.

  “Do you?” His thumb brushed over her cheek just once and then he let go of her, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Just be careful, that’s all I ask.”

  For a split second Lexi thought he might kiss her, and she was almost disappointed when he pulled away. “I’ll be fine,” she called after him, withdrawing to the safety of her bedroom until her heart steadied itself. Twenty-five years of nothing and then all of a sudden she had two men interested in her? When it rains it pours… her Grandmother always said.

  Chapter Eight

  California isn’t sunny all the time, it rains plenty enough to keep things green, especially in Northern California with the lush redwood forests. It was raining fairly steadily as Lexi pulled her little car in front of Allison’s house the next morning. Just in running from the car to the front door, she ended up soaked to the bone, long dark hair plastered to her face. There was no response when she knocked, but the knob turned easily in her hand. “Allie?” she called out, stepping over the threshold. Her sister’s car was parked out front, but the house was silent as a grave with only the hum of the refrigerator reaching her ears.

  Not wanting to drip all over Allison’s floor, nor muss up her pristine guest towels, Lexi headed up to the main bathroom to dry off. Hanging up her hoodie, she blotted off the worst of it, winding her hair up into a messy bun to tuck it out of the way.

  It was strange being alone in the house, but Lexi hoped that would make it easier to concentrate and find something useful to lead her to wherever Chloe was. As she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes lit upon the stairs up to the attic. The urge to go back up there struck her with enough force that Lexi diverted from her path and pulled the stairs down with a groan. The attic was just as she’d left it, the light casting the same shadows on the stored possessions. Drawn back to the dust covered dressing table, Lexi reached out to run a gloved fingertip across the bottom of the mirror, revealing the dark, glossy wood beneath. It would probably fetch a small fortune in an antique shop, why keep it packed away in the attic?

  It wasn’t why she’d come there, but unable to resist, Lexi drew off her glove, bare fingers poised over the wood, hesitating for a moment before she laid her hand across the smooth surface.

  The last pins were set in place and she turned her head first one way and then the other with a critical eye, ensuring that not a hair was out of place. The style wasn’t difficult to achieve, and Jack liked her bangs rolled in that fashion. Remembering that he liked her to wear the pearls he gave her on their wedding day, she fastened them around her throat. “There, perfect,” she murmured to herself, before frowning at the sight of her daughter in the reflection. “Bianca… Dio mio, why are you in here? You should be resting!” she scolded her.

  “I’m tired of staying in my room, Mama. Can’t I come downstairs for a while?” the little girl pouted, face all bu
t obscured by the dark hair framing it.

  “No! You know what will happen if you fall, and the stairs are steep.” Honestly, how many times did she have to tell her? Such a stubborn girl…

  “They’re not so steep,” the little face frowned.

  Her face softened, and she smoothed a hand over her daughter’s glossy dark locks. “Go back to bed and I will be in soon to read to you, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

  “I would like to go to school to learn to read for myself.”

  Where did she get such ideas? “What need do you have to read when I am always here to read to you, piccola?”

  “Some day you won’t be around Mama, what will I do then?” Bianca replied, a forlorn note to her voice.

  She grasped her daughter’s chin firmly, tilting her face up until their dark eyes met. “I will always be here to take care of you. Always.”

  Lexi withdrew her hand, stunned by the revelation that Chloe’s ghost friend Bianca had really lived in the house and turned out to be the daughter of the dark haired woman she’d drawn. Judging from the style of clothing and hair, she guessed it had been some time around the 1940’s when they’d lived in the house, though it could have been the fifties. There were a bazillion new questions that surfaced about them, namely why hadn’t the mother wanted the little girl to go to school or even downstairs? There were dark circles under the child’s eyes and she looked sick, but to keep her from learning to read? That bordered on abuse as far as she was concerned.

  Realizing that it didn’t do any good to get all worked up over people that died long ago, Lexi tried to let it go, another question coming to her. If she touched something else of Bianca’s, would that show her a memory of the ghost with Chloe?

  Lexi sifted through the other dusty boxes with her covered hand, trying to find something that looked as though it would belong to the little girl. The spine of a book of children’s nursery rhymes caught her eye; was this the book her mother read to Bianca? Unable to resist, she stretched her bare hand towards the weathered book.

  “Read it to me again, Mama.”

  “Sing it with me,” she smiled, reaching out to caress her daughter’s cheek.

  “London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down…”

  The girl’s high voice joined the mother’s lower, richer contralto as they sang the beloved nursery rhyme. “Take the keys and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up…”

  Half torn out of the vision by the addition of multiple childlike voices, Lexi realized they sounded just like the ones in her vision in Chloe’s room, but neither Bianca nor her mother gave any sign that they heard anyone else singing with them.

  “Take the keys and lock her up, my fair lady.”

  The sound was unmistakable, and as the song was repeated, the ghostly counterpart continued, gaining strength, so that Lexi could hardly hear the mother and daughter’s voices any longer. Disturbed by the bleed over in visions, she let go of the book, expecting a blissful rush of silence, but the disembodied voices followed her into the present. “Take the keys and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up…” Lexi froze as the sound enveloped her, the hair at the nape of her neck prickling as though she’d touched a balloon charged with static electricity. Afraid to breathe, she looked all around for a sign of where the singing was coming from, and it started to change. Fading, not as if someone had turned the volume down on a recording, but as though the source of the singing was changing direction, moving through the house.

  Moving as quickly as she dared, Lexi followed the sound of the ghostly singing down the stairs, pausing to try and figure out where it was coming from. The singing grew fainter, punctuated by giggling laughter as though they were playing a game, and she started to worry that it would disappear before she found it. Descending the main stairs, she turned towards the kitchen. Lexi let out a shriek as a hand clamped down on her arm. Whirling to face her attacker, nervous laughter bubbled up when she saw it was Allie.

  “What are you doing in my house?”

  Lexi could care less that her sister was in a pissy mood after what she’d been through. “Do you hear singing?” It was still audible, though the volume had faded significantly, and she wanted nothing more than to chase it down before it disappeared entirely.

  “Answer me,” Allie held tight to her wrist, almost painfully.

  “Jesus Allie, you’re the one who left the front door open,” she wrenched her arm away, rubbing at her wrist. “Where did you come from? Have you been here the whole time?”

  Allison blinked, eyes dropping to where Lexi held her wrist. “I was just about to ask you the same thing,” she murmured, brow furrowing.

  “I came to try again. Have you heard anything?”

  “No,” Allie’s shoulders slumped tiredly. “I’ve been going stir crazy sitting here, but I don’t want to miss anything. I keep expecting to hear ransom demands or hear they’ve been in an accident, but so far nothing. I’ve been sitting on my hands to keep from calling the police constantly to ask what’s going on, what they’re doing…”

  “It’s gonna be okay.” What else could Lexi say? What could anyone say to help her through that feeling of dread and powerlessness.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No, but I have faith,” Lexi replied, giving her shoulder a comforting pat, “and Gabriel is doing everything he can to bring her back to you.”

  “I’ll die if she ever leaves me…” Allie’s eyes stared off sightlessly.

  Something about her tone of voice scared the hell out of Lexi. “Don’t say that, Allie.” But as her sister didn’t respond, Lexi gave her shoulder a little shake. “Allie?”

  “What?” Allison blinked, focusing back on Lexi again.

  “I said don’t say that, we’ll get her back, I just know it.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah, I know,” she gave her a tight smile. “I’m just trying to hold it together.

  Lexi supposed it was understandable if Allie was a little out of it, she probably wasn’t sleeping all that well. All of a sudden she remembered the ghostly singing, ears straining to catch any sign of it, but it had completely disappeared. “Did you hear any singing before?”

  “Singing? No,” Allie shook her head. “I don’t have the radio on anywhere.”

  “No, it wasn’t the radio. Allie… remember when Chloe said she thought the house was haunted?”

  “What about it?”

  “Be straight with me Sis, have you ever seen or heard anything out of the ordinary here?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Allison dismissed the question, withdrawing to the kitchen. Lexi followed after her, not willing to let the subject drop this time.

  “I’m being totally serious. Not five minutes ago I heard singing up in the attic. Like a bunch of little kids singing a nursery rhyme.”

  “What were you doing up in the attic?”

  “Looking for clues.”

  “And did you find anything useful, Scooby?” The corner of Allie’s mouth tugged up into a smirk.

  “I’m being serious, Allie. I heard kids singing in this house, and it’s not the first time.”

  “Okay then, what are you saying?” Allie stopped fussing with the coffeemaker and turned to face her.

  “I heard the same singing up in Chloe’s room when I touched her Brown Bunny. Those kids were teasing her, taunting her.”

  “What kids?”

  “I don’t know… ghost ones. You really have never heard anything like that before?” Lexi found it hard to believe that Allie had never seen a single sign of it, living there day in and day out.

  “No, I haven’t,” Allie replied, forehead puckering with lines of stress. “I really have more important things to worry about than whether or not there’s any truth to those stupid stories, Lexi. I know that kind of thing interests you, but you know I don’t believe in that crap.”

  Lexi nodded, lips compressing into a thin line as she bit back the retort that sprang to her lips. She could cut Allie som
e slack for now, she probably hadn’t meant to be so insulting, at least Lexi was willing to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, well I’m gonna keep trying to get a fix on Chloe’s location. I’ll just keep out of your hair then, shall I?”

  “Let me know if you find anything,” Allison nodded. “I do appreciate your help,” she added belatedly.

  “Sure thing,” Lexi nodded, getting out of the kitchen before she said something she would end up beating herself up over later when she was alone. Instead of heading back upstairs, she took a detour to Neil’s study, figuring she might find a more personal possession of his in there. A quick check of the books found most of them for show; Neil hadn’t touched any of them since unpacking. The desk itself mostly gave images of him working or surfing the net once she got past the most recent police presence and Allie’s searches. It was time consuming and tiring, but it had to be done, and Lexi moved methodically through the contents of his desk, finding nothing out of the ordinary until she came upon an expensive pen and pencil set in a black velvet box. As soon as she picked up the box, she knew it was an object that he liked to handle often. Taking a deep, cleansing breath to refocus, Lexi picked up the pen, concentrating on finding a link to where Neil was right at that moment. Instead of flashing upon a string of memories or even the tentative link to where he was now as she’d been hoping for, there was just… nothing. Almost as though the object was wiped clean, she wasn’t picking up any vibrations as she searched for that link to his consciousness.

  He just felt… gone.

  She’d never tried to read a dead person’s possession before with the goal of trying to locate them, but it struck her that it might be just what she’d stumbled upon. Letting her mind relax, she stopped trying to find that connection to him and was rewarded by a series of regular images of the past, Neil writing with the pen, tapping it against his lower lip, scratching his balls… eewh. Lexi dropped the pen, staring at it, her brows drawn together into a single dark line. Could Neil really be dead? Then where the hell was Chloe?