Touching Evil (The Leila Marx Novels Book 1)

by Amber Garr

  Close to my age, Garrick had light brown hair cut in a short, military style. He wore a pair of khakis and a light blue long sleeved shirt. His brown eyes looked tired and the day-old stubble on his face was out of character. Under different circumstances, I would have found him attractive. Well, he was attractive. I just wasn’t capable of processing what that meant anymore. His long abandoned tie lay on the table and his sleeves were rolled up. He seemed flustered, which made me want to start this meeting now.

  “No, he didn’t. And no, I don’t want anything to drink. What’s going on?” I pulled out a chair across from Garrick and reached for a folder. Detective Sherwood got to it first.

  “I told you I didn’t think we needed to get her mixed up in this, Garrick. The boss is already giving us a hard time about involving any civilians and her in particular.” He pulled the folder closer to him and grabbed the chair at the head of the table. “It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Leila, it’s just that what you do…it’s hard for us to explain. If we keep bringing you onto our cases, someone’s going to notice and make the D.A.’s life miserable, not to mention our own.” He gave me an apologetic smile and settled into the chair.

  From time to time, the detectives called me in on a missing person or cold case. I’m a clairvoyant. To be more specific - a clairsentient or touch clairvoyant. My gift allows me to glimpse an event or emotion while handling an object belonging to a victim. Garrick had accepted my gift, and I’d volunteered to assist him whenever he thought it would be beneficial. However, it was often hard to convince others of my abilities.

  “Danny,” Garrick sighed. “I don’t care what they think. I swore that I would do everything in my power to help these families and that is what I’m going to do. If we can find them first…” He trailed off as though forgetting I was in the room.

  “Find who?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two detectives. After a brief silence, I spoke again. “Come on guys. You know I can be discreet. Isn’t this why I’m here?”

  “Yes, it is.” Detective Pearson said, eyeing his partner. “This is beyond the typical case. It’s pretty bad.” He sat down and ran his hands over his face.

  I worried about what I might see. In most cases, I catch a few quick flashes of an event in the victim’s past. But sometimes I’ll get a glimpse of the immediate future. That doesn’t happen often, and occurs most with those who are close to me.

  That’s what happened with Russ. When I touched his jacket, I saw flashes of the alley, a violent struggle, him falling to the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach, rain showering down on him. I’d only envisioned the future once before when I was young and had foreseen the deaths of my grandparents. There are clairvoyants who can see and predict future events and actions. I know one. But in my family line, our abilities are limited to touch.

  “Look, Detective Pearson, I’ve seen some bad things in my life. If I can help find…whoever it is you guys are looking for, please let me try.” Perhaps being diplomatic and sensitive to the situation would help my cause.

  “Leila, please call me Garrick. And I want you to help if you can.” He reached for the middle of the table and grabbed a plastic evidence bag, knocking over a pile of file folders in the process.

  “Garrick….” Detective Sherwood sighed one last warning as he rubbed his temples. Apparently this case was tough on him as well.

  Garrick gave his partner another look and then slid the evidence bag across the table to me. “Before I tell you more, I would like for you to see if you can pick up anything from this.”

  I looked down at the bag to see a brush and plastic butterfly clip inside. Remnants of black hair rested amongst the bristles, and I assumed that the police collected this as possible DNA evidence.

  “Let me know what you see or feel,” Garrick said.

  My eyebrows arched toward him in a reminder that I knew how to do this. I let out a breath to clear my head, closed my eyes, and placed my hand on the bag.

  Flashes of the victim brushing her hair at a full length mirror immediately filled my sight. That vision turned to a feeling of panic as I saw her struggle to grab a hold of the wooden bed post while someone dragged her across the floor. Then darkness.

  I felt her fear, her heartbeat, and her scream as she was yanked her to her feet in a dark cellar. Through my hazy glimpse, I watched a man lean down toward her. Then I sensed her life slipping away. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and a wave of desperation filled her thoughts as the world began to fade.

  Two

  I threw my hand away from the bag, gasping for air. My chair slammed against the wall of windows, hitting hard enough to make them shake. The detectives rushed to my side.

  “Leila! Are you okay?” Garrick kneeled down in front of me with his hands on the sides of my chair. “What happened? Do you need anything?”

  “What did you see? Do you know where she is?” Detective Sherwood urged me to answer. Guess he’d reversed his opinion about my involvement. “Good lord, Garrick, I’ve never seen her react this way before.”

  I caught my breath, nodded to Garrick, and gave Sherwood a scowl.

  “I’m all right. Let me sit here and get my thoughts back under control.” The detectives moved away from me, but continued to stare. “Really, I’m okay. And I’ll explain in a minute.”

  Standing up, I tried to shake life back into my arms and legs. I turned around to glance out at the office area and caught King looking at me. I held his stare for a moment, too shaken to fight it. His lips curled up in the corner with a smirk. He nodded to me once again, before walking toward the elevators.

  “Creepy,” I murmured as I sat down. Detective Sherwood set a glass of water in front of me. Garrick moved the evidence bag back to his side of the table and looked through the folders as though his life depended on it. He gave me some semblance of privacy while I recovered, and I realized I was grateful for the gesture.

  “Thank you, Detective Sherwood.” I sipped the water and tried to wash the last of the memories away for a moment. “All right, so what do you want to know?”

  Garrick looked up from his folders and gave Detective Sherwood a glance. He sat down and they both pulled out their pocket notebooks. Garrick was the first to speak.

  “She’s been missing for a week. We’re getting nowhere with our search, and at this point, we don’t even know if she’s alive anymore. There’s been no ransom call and no inclination that she’s a runaway. She just vanished.”

  “Why is homicide involved?” I asked. The detectives shared yet another look between them and I rolled my eyes in frustration. “I need to know these things and I assure you I can handle the answers.”

  Garrick sighed. “It’s not that, Leila. It’s just not pleasant.” He reached into the large pile of files and pulled out two manila folders. Opening both he said, “We’re involved because she’s the third girl to go missing and we’re hoping her case is not connected to the other two.”

  He slid the folders across the table to me. Both were opened to show a picture of two smiling teenage girls in what appeared to be school photos. Next to each of the formal pictures was another one clipped to the side. Although the girls were similar in age, neither one physically resembled each other in life. However, the two post mortem photos looked nearly identical. They both showed a naked body, shriveled up and nearly mummified in a shallow grave. The bodies had arms crossed over their chest and eyes closed. The skeletons could be seen underneath the dried, leathery skin. Their faces were sunken in, rib cages jutted out, while the hip and knee joints pushed against the surface of the skin. I’ve seen terrible things through my inherited gift, but these were near the top of the list. I took a moment to make sure I could speak.

  “Who are they?” I breathed.

  “They are the first two missing girls,” Garrick replied. “Their bodies were found almost exactly two weeks after they disappeared. Both were dumped and an anonymous phone call led us to the sites.”


  “What happened to them?” I couldn’t imagine the horror these poor girls had suffered.

  Detective Sherwood jumped in. “A medical examiner couldn’t pinpoint a cause of death. He said the bodies appeared to have been dehydrated post mortem. Both girls were found within hours of the tip, so they couldn’t have been dead longer than two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? This seems like months or even years of decomposition, right?” I looked at the photos again. “Was there any evidence of sexual activity or abuse?”

  Another look passed between them before Detective Sherwood spoke up. “No, we don’t think so. The examiner confirmed they were virgins. And although I wouldn’t normally believe the parents, all of their girlfriends also agreed.”

  Garrick looked at me. “Why did you ask that, Leila?”

  “When I touched the bag, I saw a girl with long black hair being abducted from a bedroom. There was a man, and he leaned over her like he was about to kiss her. Then her breathing slowed.”

  Both detectives took notes while I relayed exactly what I saw in the vision. When I finished, Garrick grabbed another folder and slid it across the large wooden table.

  “This is Erin Montgomery. Our third victim.”

  I opened the folder to see another perfect picture of a teenager with beautiful green eyes and thick, long black hair. I had to swallow a hint of panic and regain my composure. It was the girl in the mirror.

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “Ten days,” Garrick replied. Silence filled the room as the severity of the situation sunk in. “You saw her die, didn’t you?”

  “I think maybe I did,” I answered. “But we might still have a few days to find her. You know I usually can’t see into the future.” I said it out loud, trying to convince myself.

  “But you can sometimes,” Detective Sherwood added somberly. “Shit,” he said as he pushed back from the table and paced around the room. “We didn’t even get a call yet.”

  “Danny,” Garrick pleaded. “We still need to do everything we can to find her.”

  Detective Sherwood walked toward the door, but paused long enough to look at me. “Leila, I do appreciate your help with this, but I really hope you’re wrong on this one.” As he marched out of the room, I wished the same.

  “Look, if there’s anything I can do to help, Detective…I mean Garrick, please let me know.” I felt horrible, not just about the situation, but because I could sympathize with how much this case affected them both.

  Garrick ran his hands over his face again. “It might be helpful for you to come to the girl’s house with me. I want to talk to the whole family again, and maybe something there will help you get a reading….or feeling…or whatever. I’ll take anything at this point.” He seemed so defeated now, where he’d still had hope before I walked in the door and touched that bag.

  “Sure. I can do that. I don’t know how much help I will be, but I’d be happy to try and pick up on something.”

  “Okay. Good.” He stood up and started walking to the door, motioning for me to follow. “I’ll call the Montgomerys today and let you know when they can meet.”

  I glanced up into his eyes and saw pain in them. This case really was getting the best of him. He looked tired and pale. Something inside of me twitched at seeing him to be this broken.

  “I’ll do everything I can. Just let me know what time and I’ll be there.”

  As I entered the elevator, I kept thinking about Erin and feeling the life literally being sucked out of her. What was happening to these girls? Yes, death was a part of life, but no one should have to bury their child. Plus these deaths were unusual. I knew I needed to help the police the best that I could.

  Later that evening, I found myself running on the treadmill with music blasting into my headphones. I’m able to work from home, a necessity for someone who prefers not to touch people and their belongings on a regular basis. But sometimes, being home was too much of a distraction.

  I’m an illustrator for children’s fantasy and science books, contracted to work on a few stories at once. Usually I can complete my projects in a timely manner, but this current book gave me an exceptionally hard time. I don’t know why, really. It wasn’t that different from others I had completed before. It was about a little boy who could speak to animals. The story followed him through a tough year where he needed their company to help cope with his parent’s divorce. I’d been surprised they sold children’s books with adult themes, however there are many children who have to deal with divorce.

  I was one of them. My parents split up when I was young and I knew that was why I’d been so hesitant to agree to marry Russ. His parents had been married since they graduated from high school and appeared to genuinely enjoy being around each other. A sentiment not familiar in my family.

  Russ’ brother and sisters had all married and started families right after college. Russ was the youngest, but he’d put a lot of effort into his career instead of trying to settle down right away. We met in the city following our graduations, and after four years of dating, and numerous discussions about the benefits of marriage, I finally agreed to marry him. I hadn’t understood the need to sign the piece of paper, but I could tell that it was important to him.

  We bought the condo together shortly after our engagement and arranged for a destination wedding in Barbados. We planned a winter wedding so our friends and family could escape the ice and snow for a week to celebrate and party. It was only a few months away when he died. Maybe that’s why I was having such a hard time with this book. My mind couldn’t separate my own memories for a chance to live inside the head of an eight year old boy who could speak to Hank the Hamster.

  I was so deep in thought I didn’t hear my phone at first. Jumping off the treadmill, and feeling a little fatigued, I grabbed my phone on the table with a quick glance to see who was calling.

  “Hey Sara,” I answered as I caught my breath.

  “Hey Leila,” she teased in a low sensual voice. “What have you been doing that has you so out of breath? Want any company?”

  “Gross, and no.” I shook my head. “I’m trying to force myself to draw happy thoughts.”

  “Well that’s not very interesting.” She actually sounded disappointed.

  Sara was my best friend. Her husband, Ben, had worked with Russ, and the four of us were inseparable for years. Sara and I knew each other since high school, and ended up working in Baltimore after departing ways in college. She was my rock, and I had definitely used up my share of crying on her shoulder this past year.

  “I’m wondering if you want to have dinner Saturday night?” Sara asked.

  Something about the hesitant way she asked made me suspicious. I filled a glass with water and sat down at my kitchen table.

  “And who else might be going?”

  “Just us. Well, I mean, just you, me, and Ben…and maybe-a-friend-of-his.”

  The last words flew out of her mouth so quick it sounded like one jumbled thought. I sighed and rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see them.

  “Sara, why are doing this to me?”

  “Leila, relax. It’s not a set up.” I huffed into the phone. “I swear! Ben has a new friend who recently moved here and he doesn’t know anyone else yet. I told Ben you wouldn’t be ready and he promised he didn’t even tell his friend you were coming.” She sounded sincere. “Look, when you’re ready, I’ll be there with an arsenal of men in my back pocket. But I’m not going to push you. I wouldn’t do that.”

  My call waiting beeped with Garrick on the other line. “Sara, hold on a minute I have to take this.” I heard the beginning of her protest as I switched the calls.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Leila, it’s Detective Pearson, uh, Garrick.” Why did he sound so nervous again?

  “Hi Garrick. I’m on the other line, so I have to be quick. Did you get something set up with the Montgomerys?”

  “They can meet with us on Saturday at eleven. Will that
work with your schedule?”

  “Yes, that will be perfect. Do you have directions?”

  “I think it will be best for us to ride over together. I can pick you up at your house around 10:30 and I’ll be able to bring you back home afterward,” he said quickly.

  “That sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay….goodnight.”

  He hung up the phone before I had a chance to say anything. I flipped back over to Sara. “Hey, sorry about that.”

  She immediately began to apologize. “Leila, I am so sorry. I knew that you would have a problem with this and I told Ben it wasn’t a good idea and you would think I’m being too pushy.” Her thoughts ran together in a chaotic mess.

  I tried to suppress a smile. “Sara, it’s okay. I’ll go to dinner with the three of you, but don’t try to make it into more than it is, all right?”

  I could hear the relief in her voice. “You got it. I’ll make sure Ben is on his best behavior!”

  “It’s not Ben I’m worried about,” I joked as a grin spread across my face. “What time and where?”

  She told me the place, one of the new sushi restaurants downtown, and encouraged me to dress up. “Sara…” I warned. “Don’t ruin this.”

  “Okay, fine. So who was so much more important than me that you had to talk to before?”

  “The police. Well, Detective Pearson. I’m helping him out with a case and I need to do some work this weekend.” Sara knew about my abilities and had accepted me for who I was since the third grade when I showed her what I could do.

  “Ooh! Is that the hottie detective that I met a few months ago? Are you sure he needs you for his case or does he want you to help him crack it wi-i-ide open?” She giggled.

  “God, why did you even bother getting married, Sara? Yes, I think you’re talking about the same detective and our relationship is purely professional. Please.” I could admit that he was cute, but it wasn’t like that.

  “Okay, Leila. Anyway, I’ve got to run. Time to cook some dinner for the husband followed by his favorite dessert of me with whipped cream and --”