Dangerous to the Touch (The Lindsey Smith Detective Series Book 1)

by Melinda Craig

  “I’ll take the case, but I expect two grand as a down payment for my services.”

  I learned from experience to never do anything on good faith. Most people weren’t honest and refused to pay for my skills rendered once they got them. Some would blow me off, stating that I was a fraud and I only found the objects by working with the people who stolen them. When I worked with the police on a case, others would tell me that the police did all the work and I was merely there for show. No, it wasn’t easy making a living…another reason why I was so picky about choosing my clients.

  I looked at Mr. Cade, half expecting him to walk out the lobby doors. I felt a wave of shock when Mr. Cade pulled out a check and wrote not two but three thousand on it.

  “Miss Smith, I would expect nothing less of those who are good at what they do. I’ll give you three grand upfront. I know you will be good on your word. I have a meeting with detective Laurens on Thursday at one. Please be there as you two will be working closely on my case.”

  Mr. Cade signed the check and handed it to me. This would tie me over for a couple months and more if he followed through on the remaining funds once the briefcase was located and found. Folding the check with care, I opened my small navy clutch and tucked it away inside.

  With a nod I responded, “I’ll be there Mr. Cade.”

  “From the moment I laid eyes on you Miss Smith, something told me I could count on you.”

  I shook Mr. Cade’s hand with my black gloved one, feeling a little uncomfortable as he held it longer than was necessary. I watched as he walked out the lobby doors, much calmer than when he had walked in, and I waited until he was far enough away to not see me leave. My first stop, the bank. Tossing my hotel lobby cup into the trash I once again smoothed my red pleated skirt and straightened my braided hair. I left the hotel with an upbeat spirit and drove to the bank to deposit and cash part of Mr. Cade’s check. To my still unbelieving heart, all funds were there and my bank now reflected a large deposit, all thanks to Mr. Cade. Perhaps this would help me sleep tonight. I pushed the threatening memories back and thought,

  “Looks like things are finally going my way.”

  The Dream

  “Lindsey Smith! You get your butt down here RIGHT NOW!”

  Tossing in a restless sleep the memories kept flooding into my dreams. I was helpless to stop it, my exhaustion overtaking me.

  In typical teen style, I answered my mother with a flare of snark.

  “Hold On!”

  “Watch that tone young lady! Do NOT make me have to come up there and get you…”

  “Sorry…I’ll be down in a sec…”

  I knew I was in for it and absolutely dreaded walking down the stairs. Leaning towards my reflection in the mirror, I stepped as close as I could and took a look at my eyes and waited…nothing. I took a look at my whole face and waited…still nothing. I touched my cheek and fluffed my hair. I squished my eyes shut and reopened them to see if the color or pupils did anything. I tried to find something unusual…a hint at what was going on with my body. I lifted my hands and hesitantly touched the glass and jumped back, but still nothing. Everything looked the same but something was definitely off with me. Another yell from Mom sent my legs flying down the stairs. I fumbled over my clumsy feet halfway down and grabbed the railing. At the bottom of the steps was my mother, hand on hip and eyebrows in a scowl. I gulped and walked the rest of the way down.

  “Lindsey Marie Smith, do you know what this is?”

  My younger self looked at the report card in my mother’s hand. I knew exactly what she was referring to. A big D reflected in bright red ink. I stared at my feet, afraid to look at my mom. I would probably be grounded for life. On the positive side, at least I wouldn’t have to go out.

  “Um, a D?”

  “That is correct---you have some explaining to do. Sit!”

  I shuffled slowly to the faded blue couch and plopped myself down in its familiar cushions, face staring at the floor. I wracked my brain on a plausible excuse that would keep her anger at bay but all I could think or feel was the headache that had been attacking me more and more often. Pounding near my temples, the vibration spread towards the back of my skull. I rubbed the sorest spots while looking at the floor. The more stressed I got, the worse the headache.

  How could I explain to her that it was impossible to focus in Algebra with Mr. Zander and his intense eyes? I couldn’t make my mother understand why I was so confused and out of place. Things were getting weird and things had only been getting worse. Last week I went to a movie with my friends and felt something strange when my hand touched the guy at the concession stand. I blacked out and saw horrible things, a vision or more like a nightmare. The nightmare was vividly real. I could see him slap his girlfriend hard across the face as if it were my own memory. She hit the floor and covered her face as he kicked her. When I came to, all of my friends were looking at me like I was some kind of freak. I dropped my popcorn and ran home. Mom thinking I just changed my mind on the movie or that I got in a fight with my friends, actually left me alone that night.

  Maybe she thought I was PMSing, I don’t know. But Mr. Zander in Algebra was worse. He was handing back my test and the tip of his finger brushed against my hand, what I saw…it couldn’t be real…but now, he won’t stop watching me. It’s almost like he knows. I didn’t understand how any of this was possible. I felt my eyes water and brushed at them furiously. My mother’s stern gaze softened just a little when she saw the tears. I could tell her anger was turning into concern, which meant she’d really press me for an explanation. I just didn’t know if she’d believe me.

  “What is it honey? You don’t need to cry. If you are having a hard time with Algebra there’s no shame in getting tutored. You should have told me you were struggling, you know I’m always here to help. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t say anything to me…it’s unlike you.”

  I felt guilty and childish sitting on the couch crying like a baby. My mom was being kind and like any mother who cared, she couldn’t understand why I got a D when I had straight A’s in everything else. I looked at her eyes and the little girl inside me told myself to trust her…maybe she would know how to help. Even if I got shipped off to a psych ward, anything was better than this.

  “Mom, it’s not that…I don’t know how to explain it and I’m scared you’ll think I’m going crazy because I think I may be.”

  I began to sob uncontrollably, the past few weeks coming out in tearful gasps that shook my body. What if I was crazy? Did that mean I’d never know what was real?

  “Lindsey, why on earth would I think you’re crazy? Maybe you’ve been acting a little strange these past few weeks but I don’t think you’re crazy. I do think you are going through a heavy amount of teen hormones. Honey, I want you to calm down, take a deep breath and start from the beginning ok? Let’s break this down piece by piece until we can figure it out.”

  I looked at my mother and felt an overwhelming sense of love. Here she sat beside me, strong and capable. She always seemed to have it together. I took a moment to pull myself together and stared at the woman I called mom. Her dark auburn hair was always styled. She had crème white skin and managed to appear put together in anything she wore. She always had a look that said she meant business, but she was present and reliable…and I knew she was a fierce mother when it came to protecting me. Today, her planned outfit was suited to the scolding occasion, which consisted of her wearing a very stern pair of glasses and a French knot at the base of her neck, of course her clothes fit just right and even though we didn’t wear designer outfits, she always was perfectly pristine and in command.

  The scolding she had planned was now being delayed. She wanted to know what was bothering me and once her mind was made up, she was relentless. In spite of knowing how crazy I would sound, seeing her persistence made me feel better and secure. Mom sat down on the couch beside me, put her arm around my shoulders and brushed the bangs out of my eyes. It was a c
omforting gesture, even if it did make me feel like I was five years old again. Her eyes told me to begin my story. I looked into them and for the first time in the past several weeks, I truly felt safe. I pulled myself together, calmed my tears and decided to tell her everything…even if it meant that I looked a fool.

  No…this wasn’t right, I needed to stop it. My subconscious fought the memory that came out in my dream. I needed to change it, I needed to stop myself. I still felt myself in the dream but it was fading away as my senses woke up to the real world. My body tossed, the blankets thrown off…but all I could think was how I wished I could take it all back, knowing what I knew now. That stupid memory always found its way to my subconscious and out into my dreams. Oh, how I wish I could make it all stop, turn back time and save her.

  A loud, annoying noise rang beside my ear.

  “Ahhh! SHUTUP!”

  I slammed the alarm clock and sat up slowly. Stupid, stupid dream. I wish I could make it go away. Perhaps it was part of my punishment for this curse I made a living on. I would not dwell on the past. I couldn’t, not if I was going to survive today. Get through today and think about tomorrow later. I always focused on today. No matter what pain my dream dredged up, I needed to push it aside. Today I had to get dressed and meet Mr. Jake Laurens…and I was going to do exactly just that.

  Meeting Jake

  I arrived at the bar with time to kill. It was a decent set up being on the dock by the water, with one exception: the smell of fish. Through a strong breeze, the nasty stench drowned my nose and I had to suppress a shiver of disgust. Sucking it up, I held my breath and walked into Jimmy’s Crab and Bar with my shoulders held high. I looked for a private table and found a small booth in the back corner. It would be a tight squeeze for Mr. Cade and his robust middle, but he would manage.

  The waitress was a young girl with a bounce in her step. She looked barely past nineteen and chewed her gum with an intensity that almost made me laugh. She took my order (sweet tea, my stomach couldn’t handle coffee today) and was back in record time. At least she wouldn’t give bad service, although, it probably would have been better to get a waiter that paid less attention. We would make do. I sincerely hoped Mr. Cade and Mr. Laurens would be on time.

  My typical French braid felt too tight today and the black dress pants were a little snugger than I preferred. I was, however, wearing my favorite blue silk blouse. At least I could take comfort in that fitting. I made a mental note to invest in a few new clothing items after our meeting. If I wanted to keep up appearances with my clients I needed to look like I could afford to dress myself...preferably in clothes that fit well.

  I checked out the surroundings, noticing only a few people scattered throughout the bar. One middle aged man sat up front, on the low bar stool, nursing his beer. He wore a battered cowboy hat over his dirty blonde hair and his tanned skin reflected the line of muscle each time he lifted his glass to his lips. No denying he had a rugged appeal going for him. I shook my head and scolded myself internally for staring at Mr. Cowboy. I was on the job and even if I wasn’t, romance wasn’t going to happen for me. I accepted that a long time ago, knowing full well that my ability would ruin any chance of a normal relationship.

  Feeling bored, I took a little extra time scoping out the bar. I found myself lingering on the strange cowboy. Most of the patrons here had business attire. Meeting for lunch or pleasure, they seemed well dressed and at ease with spending money. The cowboy stood out in his old, black t-shirt and worn boot cut jeans. Not to mention the well-used work boots and leather cowboy hat did nothing to help him blend in. I scolded myself internally again…his appearance wasn’t mine to figure out and I didn’t need any distractions on a case. Just as I was about to look away, Mr. Cowboy turned and smiled, meeting my eyes. Flustered, I turned my head away quickly, but not before I saw him wink and chuckle. I felt the deep red of embarrassment crawl up my face and cheeks. Well, that was fantastic...

  The door’s bells jingled as a new customer walked in. Mr. Cade came sauntering in looking around, no doubt, for me. I stood to show him where the booth was and found myself startled back into my seat as the cowboy by the bar stood. He, tilted his hat towards Mr. Cade and both men spoke for a moment, shook hands and walked my way. Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I smoothed out my look of surprise into one of business and waited for them to reach my table.

  “Miss Smith! Glad you could make it. May I present to you Mr. Jake Laurens.”

  Home

  I drove back pondering my meeting. Two things were very unsettling. One-Mr. Cade continued to hide things from me that I felt I should know; two-Jake Laurens was a distraction I would rather work without…not to mention he was a jerk. That much was not a surprise…I had him pegged as arrogant within the first few minutes of speaking to him. As for Mr. Cade, when it came to his secrets, something felt off. I sighed. Maybe it was the plain fact that I didn’t like him. I shrugged to myself. I liked his money and that was what counted.

  Jake Laurens on other hand…he had to be one of the most obnoxious men I’d ever met. Oh, he certainly had his opinion of me and what he called my “so called ability,” and he was quite vocal about it. It was enough to make me want to rip my gloves off and choke him…but then, that would be beneath me. Besides, I didn’t like going through the experience of someone else’s memory without being paid and Jake Laurens didn’t deserve a free consultation. I mulled over the afternoon’s meeting in my mind.

  “And Ms. Smith”--Jake Laurens cleared his throat quite dramatically-- “Mr. Cade tells me so much about your…gift. He is so passionate about it, I almost thought you may have fallen in bed with him to get hired. I’m really interested in how your gift actually works.”

  He had looked at me with that stupid lopsided grin and winked, as though that would soften the blow of what he was implying. My dislike of Jake continued to grow, every time he opened his mouth. I had looked at him and met his sarcasm head on.

  “Excuse me? I don’t even know why I’m surprised cowboy. You have sceptic written all over you or is it just money hungry…” I looked Jake over and detected a small wince, “Oh, I get it. So Jake-that is your real name right? Are you feeling a little sour that some of the pay to solve this case is going to me? I suppose it’s hard to concede to the fact that you couldn’t solve it by yourself…I’m sure you were on this case for a while before Mr. Cade brought me on. Shame you couldn’t produce any results.”

  Jake was taken by surprise at my blunt retort. Obviously he hadn’t expected me to be able to defend myself. I remembered his annoying face as he had looked at me, staring in shock before bursting out in laughter, giving me another incorrigible wink.

  “Well you’re full of surprises Miss Smith. Quick wit is attractive in a woman…even in your field of expertise. No harm in speculation—that’s what we detectives do. Can’t help wondering what would make a sane man think that you could read the past, or in Mr. Cade’s words, live through it. That’s some psychic ability, wonder if you could share it with me. At least I’d tease you less if I believed you…”

  “Get real. I have to put up with you jerks all the time and quite frankly, just because you don’t understand my ability doesn’t mean I should share it with you for free. I’d hardly use it on you, even if you did pay me.”

  “Well, Miss Smith it would be a way for you to find out my real name…”

  I looked up to see Mr. Cade returning from the bathroom. Not soon enough for my taste. How on earth was I supposed to work with this man?

  I had left the meeting with more questions than answers and a complete dread of having to work with Mr. Laurens. Shaking my head free from this afternoon’s memory, I pulled into the familiar motel drive. At the moment, home was a small but at least cockroach free motel room. Although the room was tiny, it came with enough space for a chair by the bed, two night stands, and one dresser with a TV on it. Even if it took up most of the space, the bathroom came with a halfway decent sized tub. Th
e tub was a perk since I needed a daily soaking to clear my tired mind.

  I walked towards the tub now rubbing the back of my neck, trying to release some tension. The running water gave me a sense of ease and sinking in the tub made me let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I let myself sink deeper into the hot water and just breathe. Closing my eyes and taking in the steam, I focused on clearing my mind…I thought of nothing, willed my mind to be blank and sank further into the warm, inviting water. The blankness never lasted long but the fleeting minutes of allowing my mind to rest, recharged it like nothing else. The water hit every nerve and pulled the tension away and I allowed myself to relax a few more moments before draining the water and willing myself to get out. After the soak, I pulled on my soft robe and walked into the room with one goal in mind. I needed sleep.

  I collapsed on the small twin bed rubbing my temples. Not caring to replace my robe with pajamas, I laid on the pillow, attempting to shut down as I pulled the covers up around me. Like always, my mind shot awake at the first sight of bedtime…thoughts of the case and life, randomly swarmed my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make my mind blank like I did in the tub…I couldn’t shake it. Something did not add up. Mr. Cade stated he thought the whole thing was a set up involving his brother. He also sweated profusely, not that that was an illegal trait but it usually was a sign of hiding something.

  Sighing, I rolled on my stomach and dug in my night stand for paper and pen. If I was going to stay up figuring out the case, I needed to be comfortable. Groaning, I hopped off the bed and opened my suitcase to pull out the most comfy blue flannel pajamas I owned. They were old and a few spots were wearing a little thin, but they would always be my favorite. I held the flannel pajamas in my hand, trying not to think about when I got them and how it was the last gift I’d received from my mother. Like every other time I pulled them out, I shook the memory aside and put them on…it felt like home. I was ready to work. Plopping down on my bed, I grabbed my notepad and pen and reviewed.