Page 3 of A Touch of Murder (Touched #1)

It was just after six and Adam had dinner almost ready when the knock came at his door. He set the tray of biscuits that he'd just taken out of the oven onto the stove and headed to answer the door.

His apartment above the shop wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny either.

It had two bedrooms; one he used as a mix of an office and weight room.

The large living room had a nice view of the town below him, and the kitchen, which was where he spent most of his time, was large enough for a full-sized kitchen table and all the modern conveniences.

He'd updated most of them when he'd bought the place several years before.

He pulled open the door, smiling when he saw the two officers standing on his small entry. "Evening. Come on in." He stepped aside to allow them in. "I was just about to sit down to some chicken soup. Would you two like to join me? You probably haven't had time to eat."

The older officer smiled. "I wouldn't mind."

Adam noticed the name printed on his shirt read Vance. Adam offered his gloved hand. "We didn't get a chance to introduce ourselves earlier. I'm Adam Wrecker."

"Lou Vance." The man shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you." Adam turned to the younger man. "Barret. Come on into the kitchen." He led the way, though it was visible from the entry. "Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks." Vance took a seat.

Barret continued to stand beside the table. "You really do always wear gloves?"

Adam pulled three bowls down from the cupboard and started to ladle soup from the crockpot he'd had simmering all day. "Almost always. I take them off to sleep and shower, but other than that, I keep them on."

"Hmm," Barret frowned.

"How did things go with Mrs. Anderson? If I'm allowed to ask that." Adam set two soup bowls on the table, then plated the biscuits and set them down with a tub of butter. He wasn't about to worry about being fancy for two drop-ins.

"We had a small standoff with Howard, but he eventually came out.

Not before breaking several apartment windows and threatening to shoot all of us.

He'll be finishing his stay in jail since his probation has been revoked and face a new onslaught of charges for today.

We made sure Mrs. Anderson's daughter was aware of Howard's history before we left.

Hopefully, she listens." Barret finally took a seat.

"This smells amazing. You always eat this good?" Vance asked.

"I like to try new things in the crockpot. I usually turn it on in the morning and let stuff cook throughout the day. Drinks? I have water, cola, or coffee." He grabbed water for himself.

"Water is great," Vance said.

"Me too." Barret reached for his spoon.

"This is why small-town policing is better. In a big city, we'd never be allowed to eat like this." Vance tore a biscuit in half and buttered it.

"We probably shouldn't be here either, but I haven't had anything since breakfast." Barret glanced at Adam. "Thank you."

"Glad to share." Adam meant it. It got lonely sitting at home by himself most nights. "Now, how can I help you two? I'm sure you didn't just drop in to watch me do a reading."

Vance frowned. "It better wait until we're done eating. You might end up kicking us out."

Barret glared at his partner. "We have some questions to ask about one of your readings."

Adam nodded. It was no surprise.

"This thing you claim to do. How do you get people to believe it?

Are you just that good at reading people?

I thought maybe you did some research on people before they came in.

You know, make an appointment with you so you know to Google them before they show up, but Mrs. Anderson told us she just walked in. She hadn't made an appointment."

"Most of my clients are walk-ins. I seldom have appointments. They do happen, but they're uncommon unless someone is coming from out of town just to see me," Adam told them. He wasn't offended. He'd heard comments like this his whole life. It wasn't his job to make anyone a believer.

"So, if you don't research, how do you know? How did you know Howard had charges for domestic violence?" Barret asked.

"I didn't. I never said he did. I said I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

I know you don't believe what I can do. That's okay.

You don't need to believe. It is what it is.

I held that glove, saw images in my mind, felt the hostility of whoever had worn that glove, and from that, I was able to make assumptions.

This reading was pretty straightforward.

Others aren't so clear." Barret put his spoon down.

"Some readings, I don't get much of anything.

At least not anything anyone wants to hear. "

"Meaning?" Vance asked, looking honestly curious. "Not all objects give you visions?"

"No, almost everything gives me a vision, but sometimes someone will come to me and ask if I can help find their dog.

They'll hand me a leash or a collar. Something the dog has touched or worn.

While the person wants the location of the dog, the only vision I can get is one of a yellow tennis ball, a dog running through leaves, or something the dog has done in the past. I can't locate a dog.

The best I can do is confirm if the dog is still alive. "

Barett's head snapped up. His brown eyes seemed to flash with what appeared to be anger. "And just how would you know that?"

"It's a feeling I get. A vibration of energy, or sometimes, like today, I felt the rage and anger from the gloves.

This rage was active, current. It wasn't something that had been.

It was something that was going on currently.

If the person or animal is dead, that vibration—that emotional connection—is gone.

It feels different to me. I guess over the years, I've learned to tell. "

"And how often are you wrong?" Barret asked.

"As far as I know, never." Adam stared at Barret. "I think you need to tell me why you came to talk with me today. I expected you not to believe what I can do, but your anger feels deeper than just being upset you think I'm a scam artist."

"Damn right, it's deeper." Barret's voice rose in tone. "You told Angela Wilson that we had her daughter at the morgue. She came down to the station calling us incompetent fools and accusing us of lying to her."

Adam's chest tightened. He remembered the middle-aged woman who had come in with her husband.

The parents were looking for their teenage daughter.

They'd brought him a bracelet she wore all the time that had been found in the girl's abandoned car just outside of town.

He'd known the moment he'd touched the bracelet the girl had been attacked and taken.

He'd seen parts of her fight, the bracelet coming off in the struggle.

It was the other feeling he got that had caused him to pause.

Like the anger he'd felt while holding the glove, he'd felt something different holding the girl's bracelet.

An emptiness, a hollow feeling, one he'd learned long ago meant the girl was no longer alive.

"I did not tell her that you had her body.

I explained it to them, but they were very upset.

I stated that their daughter's body had been found and told them to check with medical examiners around the state to see if they had anyone resembling their daughter.

Hell, Barret, the closest thing we have to a morgue here in Hidden Falls is Farley's mortuary.

Why would I tell them you had the body?"

"You shouldn't have told those parents anything.

You have no way of honestly knowing if she's alive or dead.

You saw grieving parents, ready to pay for you to just tell them anything, and you came up with a story that sounded good.

" Barret wiped his mouth with a napkin, then stood. "I should arrest you for this."

Adam forced himself to remain calm. "I didn't charge the Wilsons.

I gave them back their payment as soon as I learned it was a missing person's case.

Sure, I might charge to help find a grandfather with Alzheimer's who wandered off, but I've never taken money when it's been a missing child or kidnapping.

I've always helped those families for free. "

"We have no proof that the daughter is dead." Barret pointed a finger at Adam. "And you went and told them their only child was in the morgue somewhere. That's seriously fucked up. Do you get off on causing people pain?"

"No, not at all. I hate when I have to tell someone their loved one is dead, but I'm not going to lie to them.

Go do your work and you'll see. She's in the morgue.

She was found but had nothing on her to I.D.

her. From the way she was taken, I'm betting she died the same night.

I can't tell you where she is, but I know she's been found. "

"How do you know about how she was taken?" Barret glared.

"I saw part of it. They brought a bracelet she always wore.

They found it in her car after she went missing.

Told me that she never took it off. They recorded the reading on their cell phone.

I'm sure they'd let you listen to it." Adam had his own recording of the reading.

He always did when he was consulting on a criminal investigation, just for reasons like this one now.

Still, he didn't let Barret know he had a recording.

He could get that from the parents unless he got a warrant for Adam's copy.

He wasn't feeling too generous after the things Barret was saying to him.

"And how do you know she was found? You said you only see what an item can tell you. She wasn't wearing that bracelet when you say she was killed." Vance finally spoke up, though his tone was more curious than angry.

Adam sighed. "Sometimes, if someone is dead, I see more.

" He never knew how to explain this part.

Hell, he hardly understood it himself. "I can't speak to the dead or anything, but sometimes a spirit might show me things.

Help me know more than what I feel from an object.

In the case of Trina Wilson, that's what happened.

I had a vision of her lying in a body bag, then of a medical examiner's table and someone doing her autopsy.

I saw a toe tag. She's been found." Adam was sure of this.

"I tried to get more. To see if I could identify a logo or see if the medical examiner's office was larger or small like the one in Walden.

" He named another town nearby Hidden Falls.

"I didn't see anything that helped me identify anywhere. "

Barret relaxed and sat back down. "For the record, I don't believe any of this shit. I think you’re a con-artist who steals money from people hopeful enough to pay you for information.

But I want to know everything you told the Wilsons.

I'll listen to their recording, but I want to hear your side of this first."

"If you don't believe me, test me. Hand me something that's yours and let me read it." Adam challenged Barret. "If I'm a fake, you'll know it right off."

Barret stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Okay. Here." He pulled open the small plastic pouch on his service belt and lifted out a pair of handcuffs. "Read these."

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he'd picked anything but handcuffs that had probably been on hundreds of people's wrists over the years.

Who knew what he'd see? It could be a drunk being hauled to jail or something much worse.

"Okay." Adam pulled off his glove. "Unlike with Mrs. Anderson, I'm going to talk as I get visions and not wait until the end to tell you everything.

I usually like to wait until the end so I can see if there's a timeline to the events, but for this, it's not going to matter. "

Barret handed the handcuffs to Adam.

The moment he took the cuffs, he started to see things, but the things he was seeing made no sense. He let them play out for a moment, then shook his head. "This makes no sense to me."

"It might to me. Tell me what you think you see." Barret sounded smug, like he was sure he'd caught Adam lying about his talent.

Adam nodded. "Purple teddy bear, strawberries stitched on an apron, a short woman, gray hair. Really short. Like under five feet. The smell of lavender." His eyes flew open as the cuffs were pulled from his hands.

"You damn son-of-a-bitch." Barret was standing and glaring at him.

Adam was confused. He'd told him exactly what he'd seen. It wasn't his fault if it didn't make sense to Barret.

"Let's go, Vance. We're done here." Barret started for the door.

Adam got up, unsure what was happening.

"Thanks for the dinner." Vance nodded to Adam. "It was delicious." Then he lowered his voice. "He might not believe, but I do."

"Vance, let's go," Barret bellowed from the already open doorway.

"Thanks for that." Adam smiled at Vance, then followed him to the door. Barret was already down the stairs, waiting for his partner.

They left without another word.

Adam shut the door, confused at Barret's reaction.

He didn't know how to take it. He thought about the visions that had come to him, but he couldn't see how they went with the handcuffs unless Barret was arresting little-old-ladies.

Still, he didn't doubt his visions. Whatever he saw somehow had to do with the handcuffs. He was sure of it.

Trying to put the odd interaction from his mind, Adam downed two bottles of water and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from a batch he'd bought from Whitestone Bakery the day before. The sugar helped to ground him as he quickly cleaned up the kitchen.

He wouldn't waste time worrying about what happened.

It was done and over. If Barret had more questions, he'd be back.

Still, he couldn't help wondering what those visions he had meant.

One thing was for sure, Barret Whitestone was a very interesting person, and if the situation had gone better, Adam would have enjoyed getting to know more about him.