Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 Read Online Free

Without any remains, his spirit can’t linger.” Rachel recited the information as rote. She and Garrett must have already covered this ground.
    Jazz let out a huge breath and nodded. “Okay. What about these other yahoos? How do we get them to stop bugging you?”
    “I’m still working on my long-term plan.”
    “There’s more you’re not telling me. I want to help.”
    “The best thing you can do is get this to Elsa.”
    Rachel held up the finished necklace. It was gorgeous. The stones were secure, but still showcased. She had even added little flourishes with the silver wire, making spiral patterns on the stones.
    “You are a miracle worker,” Jazz said. “I keep telling you I could sell your work in the gallery easily.”
    “I have a trust fund, remember?”
    A trust fund from parents that didn’t give a damn about Rachel. Her dad was absent except for photo shoots, and her mom was a grasping, conniving, undercutting woman. Jazz wasn’t into hating people. It took too much energy. Rachel’s mom had earned it, though, after too many gallery openings where she attended seemingly just to humiliate Rachel.
    Even with a trust fund, Rachel had wanted a job. Wanted to contribute. How the hell had such a beautiful person come from that pair?
    “Is that why you fought me so hard on getting a paycheck?”
    Jazz almost managed a smile at the memory. Rachel worked hard at the gallery. Jazz had to shove a check in Rachel’s purse and threaten to fire her if she didn’t cash it.
    “The knowledge you’ve shared with me is worth more than any paycheck. You’ve given me a chance to do something meaningful that I love.”
    Something that had almost gotten her killed.
    “How’s that working out for you?”
    “Are you kidding? I’ve learned more from you than anyone.”
    “If knowledge is all you wanted, you could have gone back to school,” Jazz said.
    “There are no schools that could give me the experience I’ve gained working with you.”
    Experiences like being chained to a wall and exsanguinated for a painting. Jazz bit back the acerbic comment. When Rachel was ready to talk about what happened to her, Jazz would be there. But she wasn’t going to bring it up herself.
    Dammit, she was tearing up again. Rachel didn’t need to see that. Jazz coughed to clear her throat, but it was still tight when she spoke.
    “Is there anything special I need to do when I give the necklace to Elsa?”
    “No, but I need to charge it with an intention first. If you give me a moment, I can do that now.”
    Jazz nodded, then leaned back. Rachel held the necklace in her closed hands, presumably to block out any of the ambient energy floating around the room. She shut her eyes and murmured something so quiet Jazz couldn’t make it out.
    After a few moments, Rachel opened her eyes and set the necklace on the coffee table. She flicked her hands to shed any residual energy. Yeah, she knew what she was doing in the energy-manipulation department. That still seemed like a very small-scale ritual.
    “Seriously?” Jazz asked. “That’s it?”
    “The simplest solutions are usually the most powerful.”
    That sounded like something Chloe would say.
    “I might have taught you about running a gallery, but I’m guessing you had other mentors.”
    “I had two teachers,” Rachel said. “One on each side.”
    “Each side of what?”
    “One was a spirit. The other was a medium.”
    “I suppose that makes sense. Actually, a lot of things I wondered about you are making sense now. Like why you try to get people to think you’re scatterbrained when you’re actually brilliant.”
    Rachel’s eyebrows hiked up her forehead and her mouth dropped open. She let out a fake laugh, trying to throw Jazz off her scent. It was way too late for that.
    “I don’t know about that,” Rachel said. “But I appreciate the compliment.”
    “It wasn’t a compliment. It was a statement of fact. And you’re doing it right now.” Jazz sighed.