Touched (Second Sight) Read Online Free PDF Page A

removing the shoes, she’d half-thought he might look down at her again. But that didn’t happen and she was surprised by a small twinge of disappointment.
    “How’s that?” Mac called out to Brendan.
    “You’re too tall!” he shouted excitedly.
    Mac took a few long steps toward him and stopped. A couple of cars passed in between them on the two lane road.
    “How about now?”
    “Yeah,” Brendan said. “That looks right.”
    Mac motioned him back across the street and turned back toward the parking structure.
    “Maybe six feet,” he said to himself. “And he was standing right here,” he said, looking at the ground. 
    As Brendan joined them, Isabelle began to inspect the asphalt in their vicinity.
    “He was wearing a dark suit,” Mac said to Brendan. “And his build?”
    Just in front of the closest car, nearly under its bumper, Isabelle saw a light blue, silicon earbud covering. About a foot from that, there was a dirty penny, the face chewed up as though it’d been run over.
    “Not like you,” said Brendan. “Maybe average?”
    Though her hand went to the small pearl button at the base of her glove, Isabelle hesitated. Random readings of discarded objects would be draining, even painful. She stared hard at the coin. Especially something like that. A pair of earbuds that had likely had one owner was one thing. But a coin that had been in circulation for years, maybe decades, would carry the impressions of so many people, in so many circumstances…
    “And what was Esme wearing?” Mac asked.
    “Well, running stuff,” Brendan said. “Definitely she was wearing leotards or whatever they’re called. And a tank top.”
    “What color?” Mac said.
    “Um,” Brendan said. “Maybe white?”
    “Remember what I said?” Mac cautioned. Isabelle finally looked back at the two of them. “Facts.”
    Brendan’s eyes darted all around the structure, looking at the floor, the parked cars, the sergeant with his yellow tape. 
    This was ridiculous.
    “May I touch you?” she said.
    “I’m not finished,” Mac said, a warning tone in his voice that she was getting used to.
    “I didn’t ask you,” she said, not looking at him. “I asked Brendan.” She smiled at him and saw him grin crazily in return. “I’m a psychic and I’d like to read you.” 
    “We don’t have time for this,” Mac said but, as she stepped toward Brendan, she undid the button of her glove.
    “Then keep questioning him,” she said to Mac, never breaking her stare into Brendan’s eyes. His pupils dilated. “It has no effect on what I’m doing.”
    “I was wondering why you wore the gloves,” Brendan said, as though he were mesmerized.
    “Do I have your permission?” she said lowly, standing directly in front of him now. “I’m going to see everything you saw.”
    “Brendan,” Mac snapped. “Was she wearing white or not?”
    Isabelle slowly removed the glove, one finger at a time as Brendan watched. 
    “I’m going to hold your hand,” she said.
    “Okay,” he said excitedly, though he hadn’t moved a muscle.
    Slowly, she reached down and took his hand in hers.
    The surroundings instantly vanished. Brendan’s most recent thoughts were the strongest and those had to do with sex. With her. Then they were back in the station. He’d needed to use the bathroom but had been afraid to ask. Then, he was looking at the email. There’d been a chemistry quiz in his first class. She felt the tightness in her chest as the anxiety of failing again gripped him just as the TA handed him the paper face down. And then. And then…She gripped his hand hard and sucked in a ragged breath. There she was. It was Esme.
    “Gray running shorts,” she said as quickly as possible. “White tank top. Silver chain necklace. Hair in a pony tail. Neon blue running shoes. The man is average. Average shoulders. Taller than her. She’s turning to look at me. He has dark hair. The suit is almost shiny and it’s jet black but his hair