Touch Page 7

  “That’s good.” Mom smiled. “Often, the more you believe in yourself and embrace your own gifts, the more others will too. You get what you give.”

  “True, I never thought of it that way.”

  “This type of gift teaches you a lot,” said Mom. “Sometimes I think it’s given to people not so much to help solve mysteries or communicate with those who’ve passed, but to teach the person more about themselves and life in general.”

  I nodded. “I think I’ve learned more this last year with my gift than I have through school.”

  “Life is always the best teacher.” Mom picked up her plate.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Tamara emerged from the hallway with a bag on her shoulder. “I’m off to the studio. See you guys.”

  “Hope it all goes smoothly today. And don’t forget: connecting session when you get home, before dinner.”

  With our busy lives we didn’t always stick to our pact to connect every night; we mostly just allowed our senses to tell us when we needed to, nowadays, but we still had to keep the power alive and practice as much as possible.

  “Got it,” she replied. She opened the door, and Leo, with his dark features and strong presence, filled the doorway. He smiled and waved. She was a lucky girl. He was rather hot, and a man that could cook with such passion. He was Tamara’s dream guy, and she was only seventeen. I hoped they would be one of those sweet young couples that lasted and lasted. The one good thing about not being in a relationship was that I didn’t have to worry about losing the person. Didn’t have to worry about being abandoned, either intentionally or unintentionally. I wasn’t sure I was ready for a relationship, to be honest, even though it would be nice to have someone special. But a friend… I could always do with a friend.

  While Savannah and Sasha practiced taekwondo with each other, I talked to Mom and Serena about my sculpture of the car wreck. Serena added it to her notes, in case it had anything to do with Dad’s disappearance. It didn’t look like any car we had owned, Mom said. But if he’d gotten into someone else’s car, maybe it was related to that. Or it could even be a future prediction, which scared me a bit. Then again, maybe it had nothing to do with anything and I was just making random, meaningless sculptures.

  I hoped to finish my iris sculpture on Monday night, as I’d made good progress with it last Thursday and Marco had already begun working on a new one. I could ask him for his thoughts on my car sculpture, which I’d forgotten to do at the last class.

  When it came time for The Dancing Chef, we watched it live on TV. Thankfully, there were no medical emergencies, though it did include a little mention of the previous week’s situation, and an update that Renaldo was expected to make a full recovery and would be back to making chocolate raspberry coconut slices as soon as possible.

  Afterwards, Savannah put on her running shoes and a smile. “Anyone want to walk with me to town? Only an hour till Riley finishes work, might grab something yummy at a café first.”

  “Nah, going to Jordan’s soon,” said Sasha.

  “I have a friend date with Lara,” said Serena.

  “I’ll go,” I said. “I could do with an ice cream sundae. What do you say?”

  “I say hell yes. Let’s go.”

  Mom sighed. “I have a date with the vacuum cleaner.”

  “Oh, sorry, Mom. I feel bad now!” I said.

  “Don’t, sweetheart. Go enjoy yourself. You know it’ll be your turn for housework in a few days anyway.” She winked.

  I went to the door, then turned back around. “Why don’t you invite Mr. Jenkins over for afternoon tea?”

  Mom glanced to the side in the direction of his house. “It would be nice, but I think I need to give him space. It was a lot for him to absorb yesterday, and the anniversary is coming up on Wednesday. I think I’ll just leave him be till after then.” She clamped her lips together in a sad smile.

  I hoped his newfound awareness of our situation wouldn’t scare him off. Yes, he’d been able to find something he was looking for with Savannah’s help, and he’d been able to say some kind of goodbye to his wife, but that didn’t mean he would want to be involved with that sort of stuff on an ongoing basis. And with our family, it had just become part of who we were. We were a package deal.

  “See you later on, Mom.” Feeling her sense of deflation, I added, “Can I pick anything up for you?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Chai latte?”

  “Deal.” I smiled.

  “Oh, and one of those cupcakes I like. You know, the ones with…” She wriggled her fingers.

  “The colorful sprinkles,” I said, and she nodded with eagerness.

  I walked outside with my sister, and we brainstormed new comebacks like I’d done with Marco, though I wasn’t sure I’d need them anymore since the hype did seem to be dying down. Maybe I was becoming yesterday’s news.

  • • •

  As we walked down the main street, déjà vu followed me like a shadow. The world around us seemed fake, while the world within my heightened senses seemed to be the real one. I recalled the vision we’d shared recently, the one when I’d felt Marco’s hand, but also a tug of something, like clothing around my shoulder, and I stopped in my tracks as Savannah turned in the other direction and approached a man walking past us in the street. She grasped the shoulder of his shirt, which was kind of like a jacket.

  “Savannah!” I said, but she didn’t listen.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” the man said with an edge of irritation.

  “Where did you get that shirt?”

  He’d brushed her hand off his shoulder. I looked more closely and saw it: the Mountain Workwear logo on the front pocket.

  “My shirt? I wear it for work, why?”

  “What kind of work?”

  “Look, miss, what’s this about?”

  “My dad wore that shirt, before he disappeared, I need to know.”

  Nice one, Sav. Even the cops don’t know that piece of information. We’d gleaned it from paranormal sources.

  The man looked at her silently, his eyes searching, his brow furrowing. “I’m an electrical contractor.”

  “Do you have a business card?”

  He looked more dumbfounded by the minute. He took one from his pocket. “It’s not my business, but here is my boss’s company card. If you have any concerns, you should contact him. I don’t know anything.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “And sorry. It’s just the first time I’ve seen anyone wear it in real life. I mean, apart from my dad.”

  The man gave a nod. “Well, I hope you find him, miss.”

  He walked off, and I rushed to Savannah’s side. “I can’t believe you just did that! You can’t go around grabbing people’s clothing and freaking the hell out of them.”

  She shrugged. “Instinct. I didn’t want him to get away.”

  “You could have asked him more politely. He wasn’t a ghost. It’s not like he was just going to disappear.”

  “Dad disappeared.”

  “You know what I mean.” I crossed my arms. “Look, be careful what you say to people, or in public. You don’t know who could be listening, or who the person is, or even who it was that broke into our place. Just be careful, okay?”

  She nodded. “How about that ice cream sundae?”

  I exhaled my worries. “How about two?” I smiled, and we continued walking.

  “I thought I was walking with Talia, not Tamara,” Savannah said.

  “And I thought you were a healthy fitness freak.”

  “All things in moderation,” she said, “including moderation.”

  After our nowhere near moderate double serving of ice cream, and after Savannah had walked off to the gym to meet Riley (and I had almost gone with her to see if I’d bump into Marco, just for something to do, no other reason), Mom sent me a text:

  I don’t want to disturb the others on their “dates,” so I’m just texting you. Police have an interesting
update on Dad’s case.

  On my way, I texted back.

  Chapter 11

  I walked as fast as I could. I maybe even would have run if I weren’t carrying a chai latte in a cardboard cup and a cupcake in a paper bag for Mom. I waved at Mr. Jenkins as I walked past his house, while he swept his front porch with a wide broom that made a dry swishing noise. He paused, offered a small nod, and resumed his sweeping. With each forward movement of the broom I could feel a slight soothing of his heavy heart.

  I pushed open the door and handed Mom her treats. “What is it? What did the police say?” I panted.

  She sat at the table and took a large sip of her latte, then a bite of her cupcake. “Ah, that hits the spot.”

  “Mom?”

  “Dave Bolt, he failed a lie detector test.”

  My eyebrows inched higher. “What question did they ask? If he… if he did something to Dad?”

  “They asked if he knew the name David Delcarta. He said no, but the test revealed he was lying.”

  I took a sharp breath. “So what does that mean? Can they link him in any way to the case?”

  “One step at a time. They also asked about his whereabouts on the day your dad disappeared, but because it was such a long time ago he said he couldn’t remember. So they’re going to do some investigations regarding the timeframe of Dad’s disappearance and check out potential alibis.” Mom sipped her drink and took another bite. “Want some?” She held up the cupcake.

  I shook my head. “Did they ask him anything else about Dad?”

  “Well, they did ask if he was responsible for your father’s disappearance. He said no. The test results showed that he didn’t appear to be lying.”

  “What? But Dad listed his name in the letter, how can he not be lying?” I stood as hot blood rushed to my head.

  Mom touched my arm. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not that black and white. Maybe he was involved, but wasn’t directly responsible. That could explain the test result.”

  “But,” I sat back down, “they didn’t ask him if he murdered Dad, right? Because the cops don’t know that Dad is dead.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So, if they could just ask him if he was responsible for his death, maybe he would fail that test. Can you get them to ask?”

  “I think they have to concentrate on the actual evidence at this stage. If he’d failed the other question about your dad, maybe they would have asked him more, but they said they have to be careful with doing too much at once. They have a strategy to get the most out of their questioning with him. We have to let them do their job their way.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “We just have to wait and see what their investigations bring up about how he may have known Dad. If they can find a link, then they can progress with further questioning.”

  “And if they can find his brother, then…”

  “Then they can question him in the same way.” Mom downed the rest of her drink and stood. “So at least they’re looking into possible connections now. And maybe with repeated questioning, he’ll slip up and let something out.”

  I sighed. “Hope so.”

  “How was your sundae?”

  “Huh? It’s Saturday, Mom,” I said.

  She giggled. “I mean your ice cream sundae.”

  “Oh!” I shook my head. “My brain is somewhere else.”

  Mom patted my shoulder. “I know, sweetheart, I know. Same place mine is.”

  I lifted my hand and placed it on top of Mom’s. And I could have sworn, that on my other shoulder, another hand was resting there too.

  • • •

  “Finally,” I said, as Tamara walked into the house, the last of my sisters to arrive home from their busy social lives. “We need to connect and see if any new information comes up. Mom got some news from the police.”

  Tamara’s hand flew to her mouth, but Mom quickly reassured her that it wasn’t big news, and went on to explain what she’d told me and the others once they’d gotten home.

  “I’ll let you girls get organized. Let me know if you sense anything significant, okay?”

  I nodded, and Mom went to the kitchen. Moments later I heard the sloshing of soapy water.

  We went to the triplets’ room, and I got my meditation stone out of my pocket. “Maybe this will help enhance the vision,” I said, holding my palm face up for Tamara to grasp.

  “I hope we see that asshole behind bars,” Savannah huffed. “Make that both those assholes.”

  “I agree. C’mon, senses, show us a good outcome from all of this.” Sasha wriggled her fingers, then took hold of Tamara and Serena’s hands.

  “I think we should all take a few deep breaths before we close our eyes,” I said. “Some of the meditation techniques I use might help get us more in tune with our delta waves or something.” I glanced around, and they nodded. “Okay, breathe in,” I said, breathing deeply, “and out.” I exhaled, and as I did, it was as though the centering effect of my breath as I pushed it out spread down my body and out through my hands, and into my sisters’ bodies. We breathed together as one, and then darkness washed over me as I closed my eyes. Safe, comforting darkness… except, soon, the feelings would come, and along with them the uncertainty, the surprises, and sometimes the pain.

  When the jolt and bubbles subsided, my body felt calm but fluid, like a lake that had just recovered from the circular ripple of a pebble. But unlike a still lake in which you could see your reflection, or any other images of things nearby, my images, or at least the tactile sensation of them, would only come once the surface was disrupted. The ripples would spread and deliver the sensations outward through my body, igniting my nerve endings and traveling to wherever in my body I needed to feel something.

  I breathed deeply again, and subtle sensations rippled outward… Apprehension accompanied a tingling in my feet, like I was walking into something dangerous. The ground felt hard underneath my feet, then soft and unstable, like I’d gone from concrete to sand or soil. Although my eyes were closed, I had a strong urge to turn my head and check behind me; I could feel eyes on me. The ripples slowed, then sped up, bringing a sudden sense of heat through my body. I wanted to rip my hands away from my sisters’ and hold my arm up over my face as it burned and stung, but I scrunched up my face and put up with it.

  It’s not really happening. It’s not real. My face is okay. It will pass…

  I had learned to give myself pep talks during visions, when the sensations became too much. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t.

  I was sure that what I was sensing was a fire right in front of me. The person whose perspective I was feeling things from was standing near a bonfire, or was next to an explosion of some kind.

  The breath I’d been holding released when the heat subsided, and my discomfort was rewarded by a pleasant sensation—a warm and gentle hand on my lower back. But along with a feeling of protection, the hand held a sense of caution, and there was firmness to it too, as though it were encouraging me to move somewhere. My mind instantly went to Marco, but I didn’t known if it would be his hand, or if I was just distracted. Then the hand was gone, replaced by something hard and forceful pushing against the middle of my back, and I felt a surge and the person stumbling forward.

  Whatever all this was, it didn’t feel good.

  I waited for more sensations, but the ripples slowed down and stilled, and I was left with that lake of nothingness. It was no longer calm, but held an ominous reflection of what had been sensed.

  My hands loosened their grip on my sisters’ and I let go, wrapping my fingers around my meditation stone. It throbbed with heat in my hand, like I’d left it out in the sun.

  I sat on Sasha’s bed and opened the journal. “Okay, who wants to go first?” I asked.

  “Me!” Savannah raised her hand in the air, something she probably never did at school. “First of all, I saw Marco—he’s hot by the way—and—”

  “Wait,” I sai
d, lifting my pen from the page. “Marco? What was he doing? How did he look?”

  “I just saw his face. He looked concerned. That’s all; it was quick. Anyway,” she waved her hand, “you know that sculpture you made?”

  “The car one?”

  She nodded.

  “You saw my sculpture in your vision?”

  “Nope, I saw the real life version.”

  I furrowed my brow. “A burnt-out car?”

  She clamped her lips together and nodded. “I wish I could have seen the license plate, but it was burnt too. It was a normal-sized car, not big, not small, and all I can say is that it was burnt, I don’t know how else to describe it.” Savannah’s eyes did that thing where they went distant, searching her mind for visual memories. “Except, I remember the surroundings. The car was on dirt. Trees were nearby but not right up close. A forest, maybe?”

  I wrote down her descriptions. Then I remembered the heat. “Oh.” I tapped the pen against my chin. “I felt heat, like fire, really strong. I wonder if that was the fire that burnt the car?”

  My sisters moved closer to me. “This must be significant,” Serena said. “You make a sculpture, Savvy sees the burnt car, and you feel fire.” She shuddered. “Oh no, you don’t think that’s what happened to Dad do you? A fire?” Her breathing quickened.

  “Hey, don’t jump to conclusions.” I stood.

  “But that could be why he hasn’t told us how he died, because what if it’s something horrific like being burnt and…” Her eyes grew red.

  “Hey, hey,” I said. “What I felt didn’t feel like that, so if what we’re getting is a vision that has to do with Dad, I don’t think that’s what happened. It was as though I was standing in front of the fire, watching it, because only my front felt hot.”

  Serena looked at me, her worried expression softening a little. “You think?”

  “Yeah. I don’t believe that’s it. Only part of it. We’ll find out more, don’t worry.”

  She nodded and sat with me on Sasha’s bed. I told them what else I’d felt, and Savannah continued. “So, as well as Marco and the car, I saw a bank logo, and an ATM. I was getting cash out of it, then I gave the money to someone, but discreetly.”