Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 by Cassandra Chandler Page B

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.
    Then Dad drew out the vision.
    The rattle of chains. The weight of the manacles digging into her flesh, tearing it as she struggled to get free. The prick of needle after needle in her arms. Darkness. Fear. Knowing that death surrounded her—feeling it close. Michael Angelo’s smiling face. And blood. So much blood.
    Finn could feel Dad’s hands trembling even through the vision. Then something strong yanked him back from it, pulling him free. He landed on the floor, sitting between Jazz’s legs. She had her arms wrapped around him and was crushing him to her chest.
    He might have enjoyed her warmth, her closeness, except his dad and Daphne were on the floor right in front of him—and Dad was clinging to Daphne’s arms, sobbing.
    “Dad. Dad!”
    Finn scrambled to his dad’s side and wrapped his arms around the pair. Dad was shaking so bad. Finn had never seen him cry. Ever. And this? This was a complete breakdown.
    The vision was terrible, but Finn didn’t understand his dad’s reaction. Had he seen something Finn couldn’t? Was that even possible? They had always shared the same visions when he read Finn before, the same memories or experiences, like Finn did when reading objects.
    “Dad, come on. You have to calm down.”
    Jazz put her hand on Finn’s back. He closed his eyes to let her calm sink into him. Except her hand was shaking too. He looked at her over his shoulder.
    The blood had all drained from her face again. Her lips were set in a grim line. Instead of looking like she was about to pass out, she looked like she wanted to kill somebody.
    She reached between them all and pressed her fingers against Dad’s neck. Checking his pulse. Finn’s heartbeat skyrocketed. He should have thought to check that first