by Deborah Camp
She was finishing up her last sentences in the journal when a remembered comment flashed through her, causing her to suck in a breath and her eyes to tear.
“I always thought Mark was too good-lookin’ for her.”
She’d heard her Aunt Helen say that to her mother when they weren’t aware she was in earshot.
“Really? Hmmm. Maybe. And Trudy is . . .”
“Peculiar,” Aunt Helen had supplied when her mother had hesitated.
“Well, yes. Yes, she is.”
That had really hurt. It hurt now. She swiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed. Too good looking for her. Too peculiar. With a sigh, Trudy recorded that in the journal, wondering if that was one of the seeds she’d planted and let grow like kudzu vines, choking out her feelings of being pretty, attractive, even sexy.
“What are you writing about?”
Trudy jumped, not having heard Levi’s approach. He gave her a puzzled look as he sat on the chaise next to hers. “That’s your journal, right?”
“Yes.” She closed it. “I was writing about orgasms.” She returned his grin. “And your name came up.”
“I should fucking hope so!” He lowered his brows in a playful menace. “I better be listed as giving you the best ones of your whole life.”
“Naturally. After that first time with you, my entire concept of sex was different. I finally understood why people craved it! I mean, I could hardly think of anything else! Just you. Every movement, every gesture, every little thing fascinated me. Still does.”
He leaned closer and his lips brushed over hers. “Is the journal beneficial?”
“Yes.” She opened it slowly, debating on whether to give him a peek, then deciding she should to demonstrate her trust in him. “Here. Go ahead.” She handed it to him. She watched his eyes as he read the lines and how they darkened with anger even as his mouth dipped in sympathy. When he lifted his gaze to hers, the understanding she saw in them filled her own eyes with tears.
“Baby.” He kissed her forehead and then her eyelids and the moisture on her cheeks. “You know that people don’t stay together because of how they look. They stay together because of how they feel.”
She nodded.
“That guy you were with – Mark? – he was not only short, but short-sighted. He couldn’t see that his woman hadn’t been sufficiently pleasured. You’re not shy about your orgasms, baby. Your whole body shudders and your inner muscles spasm around me. I never have to wonder if you’ve come.”
She placed her hand in his, watching his long fingers close around hers. “You make me feel pretty. And sexy.” She felt warm color infused her neck and cheeks. She swept her gaze up to his. “I even feel beautiful sometimes with you.”
“You are beautiful. Inside and out.” He lifted her hand and kissed the place on her wrist where her pulse fluttered. “That’s what I saw when I looked at you. That’s what others see. The beauty in you. In your heart and soul.”
“I made assumptions about you at first. Looking at you, I figured you’d grown up getting whatever you wanted because you’re so handsome. I could see you being treated like a little prince.” She rolled her eyes at his cynical laugh. “Your young life was the complete opposite of that.”
“And how. I didn’t even know I was good looking until I was eighteen and in England. The guys kept kidding about how the girls were all eyeing me and that I could get any pussy I wanted. So, one morning I stood in front of the mirror and really looked at myself.”
“And what did you think?” She was curious because when she was eighteen and looked at herself in the mirror, she saw a gawky girl with an okay face and a figure that wasn’t va-va-va-voom, but passable.
“I thought, Damn, I’m pretty cute. I can get any pussy I want!”
She slapped his shoulder and laughed incredulously at his answer. Then she released a squeak of surprise when he suddenly gathered her up, stood and ran with her to the pool. The next thing she knew, she was submerged in the warm, salty water. She gasped and then Levi’s mouth was on hers and his hands skimmed down her back and up under her t-shirt.
Pushing at his shoulders, she broke off the kiss and smoothed his hair back off his forehead with both hands. “You got me wet, you rascal!”
“I thought that a dip in the pool would do us both good.” He deftly unhooked her bra.
“Leviiii,” she warned.
“What?”
“I’m not getting naked in this pool.”
“Bras dampen the fun of a wet t-shirt.” He pulled the straps off her shoulders, down her arms, and then she found herself staring at her lacy, black bra hanging from his finger.
“Give me that!” She snatched it away from him and glanced around to be sure no one was looking. “I swear, sometimes you have a one-track mind.”
“With you all wet and hot looking, yeah, I do.” His arms snaked around her and he pulled her up against him. Sunlight bounced off the water and shattered in his eyes. “Someday I hope that you see yourself as I see you. With your fiery hair that matches your fiery passion and your celery green eyes that darken to emeralds when you come, and your heart-shaped face that is so damned enchanting that people can’t help but smile when they look at you. What did Mrs. Chambers say you reminded her of . . . a forest nymph! Do you think every woman gets that kind of compliment? People become poets when they try to describe you.”
She couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say with her eyes and heart filling up. She angled up and kissed him with everything in her – every feeling, every emotion, every drop of love she had for him. He seemed to be stunned by her ardor for a few moments before his arm tightened about her and he brought up his other hand to cup the side of her head and tilt it so that his tongue could slip between her lips and taste her. He maneuvered them to the side of the pool until her back bumped against the tile wall and his feet found purchase on the bottom. She hooked her ankles behind his knees as he continued to kiss her, his tongue delving and flirting, his hands molding to her breasts as his thumbs thrummed her tight, aching nipples.
“Levi, Levi!” Her sharper tone finally got through the haze of desire. “Let’s get out of this pool and go inside.”
He nodded and helped her out of it, covering her upper body with a towel. Inside the cabin, he swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. The intensity in his eyes made her quiver. There was no doubt that this man desired her. This man with his striking good looks, perfect body, battered psyche, bottled up rage, and gentle heart. He desired her and he loved her. She knew she was a fool to even question it or worry about losing him. But she did. Not as much as when he first swept into her life, but the taunting questions and niggling self-doubts were still there – like damaging interlopers when her spirits or self-confidence flagged.
But when Levi’s kisses rained over her face and his hands worshipped her body and his love for her poured out of him, she had no doubts about how he felt or how she felt about him. In his arms, she was a sexy tigress, all sleek limbs, liquid movement, and wild desire. When he kissed behind her ear, her cheek, the dip of her throat, across the wingspan of her breastbones, between the soft globes of her breasts, and places on her body that only his mouth and hands were allowed to touch, she writhed in ecstasy.
He was her undoing and her remaking.
These were the best of times. Times to be treasured and pressed carefully into the pages of her memories for safe-keeping. These were the times that would get her through the worst of it – the ups and downs and crushing disappointments and fits of temper that plagued every relationship.
“I love you, I love you,” he chanted as his body rocked into hers.
She clung to him, remembering not so long ago when those words were impossible for him to voice. Now they tumbled from him as he released into her. She shuddered as passion reached its peak inside her and burst in hot sparks. When she fell back to earth again and opened her eyes, she found him staring down at her face, a tender smile on his lips.
“And I love you,” she whispered, finger-combing his wet hair. So simple, she thought. So profoundly, confoundingly, puzzlingly simple.
Chapter 19
Friday, the end of a week of waiting. Trudy closed the book she was reading, stretched up from the bed, and padded into the living room where Levi was working. He’d been answering e-mail and taking calls for three hours and he was still at it. She sat at the other end of the couch from him.
“How much more work do you have?”
“Too much,” he muttered, tapping away on the laptop keyboard that sat on the coffee table. A printer he’d set up on the sideboard hummed into action. “The architectural restoration team is kicking into high gear. We bid on three jobs and got all three.”
“That’s good.”
“It is, but it means contracts to work through and sign, work orders to submit, licenses and permits to buy . . .” He shook his head. “A shitload of red tape in three different cities. One of them in Quebec.” His cellphone vibrated on the coffee table and he craned forward to see the screen. He nearly snarled. “Goddamn it.”
Intrigued, Trudy glanced at the screen. The caller was Sissy Franklin. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“No. I’ve talked to her twice today already. She can leave a message.”
“What’s going on with her?”
“She on a rampage because I’m booked on the Tabitha McQueen Show. Sissy’s threatened by her because McQueen’s ratings are climbing. I’m not getting into the middle of that cat fight.”
“You’re backing out of the McQueen show?”
He turned his head to spear with a sharp glance. “Hell, no, I’m not cancelling. Sissy can deal with her insecurities her own damn self. But now Sissy is wanting me to commit to appearing on her show before I do McQueen.”
“When are you booked on McQueen?”
“First of next month.”
She calculated in her head. Two and a half weeks. “We should be finished with this case by then.”
His barked a laugh. “I hope so! We should be wrapping this up in a few days unless the cops completely bungle it, which I doubt they will. Dupree and Bonifay know what they’re doing.”
The phone hiccupped a sound, letting them know it had recorded a message from Sissy. After blasting it with a glare, Levi went back to hammering the laptop keys. Trudy wished she were brash enough to pick up his phone and listen to Sissy’s message, but instead, she sighed and went back into the bedroom.
Lying down, she stared at the ceiling fan whirring above her and let her eyelids finally shut out everything as she drifted into sleep.
The dream emerged as if from a mist. Swirling along the edges of her mind before creeping forward and then rising up to show her a wide city street. Palm trees dotted the area on either side of the boulevard. She was in a vehicle . . . a truck. White with black interior. Her attention fixated suddenly on a female standing in the shade of an overpass. She held a handmade sign – black marker on a piece of cardboard – Hitching Home. The truck zipped past, but slowed as she stared at the young woman via the rearview mirror.
Christ Almighty, darlin’. What you doing out here with those skimpy shorts and that little tank top on? Trying to get my attention? Well, you got it.
Big knuckled hands clasped the steering wheel more firmly and a dirt-encrusted work boot stomped the brake. The truck bounced into the driveway of a convenience store, carved a semi-circle, and then merged onto street traffic again, heading back toward the hitchhiker.
Here I come, little cunt. Your knight in shining armor.
He whipped the truck out of the traffic lanes and onto the shoulder, under the overpass and just beyond the girl. She smiled at him and sauntered in his direction, narrow hips swinging, long legs flashing, tits bouncing. Approaching the driver’s side, she propped her arm against the door and snapped her gum.
“Hey, there. You gonna give me a ride?”
“I sure aim to, honey. Where’s home?”
Her laugh was throaty and a little phlegmy. He could smell nicotine on her breath. “Los Angeles. You heading there?”
“Shit no, girl!” He chuckled. “But I’ll drive you a ways. Get on in here.”
She skipped around the cab and opened the passenger door. She glanced around the interior. “You’re not some kind of perv, are you?”
“Are you?” He winked at her.
She giggled and got in. Peeling away strands of her long, wispy blond hair where it stuck to her cheeks, she laid her cardboard sign on the floorboard. “Whew! I was getting tired standing out there. I’ve been there almost an hour. I thought for sure someone would stop for me real quick. I mean, I’m fine, right?” She sat straighter, jutting out her breasts.
“Hell, yeah!” He reached over and squeezed her tit. “Mighty fine.”
“Hey!” Giggling, she slapped at his kneading hand. “Groper!”
He guided the truck onto the street again. Calliope was written in white across two lanes.
“Where you headed? You just get off work?”
“Yeah. I was looking for something to eat.” He cut his gaze to her. “And you looked tasty.”
“You!” She giggled again. “You’re a perv, all right.” Her dark eyes danced with pinpoints of light. She smiled at him again, showing off front teeth that overlapped each other. “I sure could use a beer.”
“Could you?”
“Well, yeah. If I had a beer or two in me, no telling what I’d do.”
He chuckled. Not spending money on you, raggedy doll. You ain’t worth it. But I do have plans for you. He scanned the streets ahead. Where would be a good place. There were some alleys up ahead, surely. Maybe a parking garage.” He checked the digital readout on the dashboard. Six. Yeah. Most office workers would be cleared out, leaving the garages nearly empty. Would take just a few minutes to knock her the hell out and tie her up.
“You gonna buy me a cold one, dark and handsome?”
He grinned. “Just you wait and see. Pull that top up and let me see those little titties of yours.”
She hooted at that. “No way!”
“Way.”
“No. Way.” She folded her arms and faced front. “Maybe after you buy me a beer and some tacos.”
“Tacos for titties?”
She giggled again. “Yeah.” She looked forward and frowned when he turned into a parking garage. “Where we going?”
A mist overtook the scene and then a face. Ethel’s face. Ethel’s round, sweet, worried, ghostly face.
Wake up, Trudy! Wake up now, dear. You must open your eyes and get out of his head.
The dream shattered like glass and Trudy’s eyes popped open. She sat up, staring wildly about her.
“Ethel?” Her voice sounded strange, strangled. She swallowed. “Ethel?” Looking around, she was relieved not to see the apparition, but shaken nonetheless by Ethel’s appearance in her dream.
Her dream.
That wasn’t a dream.
She rolled out of bed and stumbled into the living room. Levi was at the small refrigerator, leaning down to peer into it. He grabbed a soft drink can and straightened. When his gaze found her, he set the can on the counter and had her in his arms in two strides and two seconds.
“What’s going on? Bad dream?”
“Not a dream.” She placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. “The cops are tailing A.J., right?”
“That’s what they said.”
“He picked up a girl. A hitchhiker. He’s going to kill her.”
“Christ.” He moved her to a chair and made her sit down, then he snatched up his cellphone from the coffee table. After punching in a number, he paced and almost barked into the phone. “Dupree? It’s Wolfe. You have a tail on Kind?” He listened to the answer and cursed under his breath. “Well, Trudy just saw him pick up a girl he plans to murder.” His sharp gaze latched onto Trudy. “The unit that was following him lost track of him an hour ago. Do you have any idea where he is
or was?”
She closed her eyes, thinking back, going over the scenes in her mind. A sign. On the street. “Calliope. And St. Charles, I think. He was heading north. He pulled into a parking garage off of Calliope. He’s in a truck. White truck.”
“Did you hear that?” Levi asked the detective. “Right.” He turned off the phone and shoved it into his shirt pocket. Clasping her hands, he pulled her up from the chair, then sat in it himself and had her sit in his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder and felt him kiss her brow. “They’ll find him. They’ll stop him.”
“She’s very young. Eighteen. Nineteen. Hard to tell. Blond and sassy. She said she was heading home to Los Angeles.”
“And she was hitchhiking?”
“Yes.”
“I wonder if Forté knows about this? Do they have a new killing place? A new burial place?”
“It felt as if this was a spur of the moment decision. He’s been all jacked up for weeks, wanting to kill someone. I think he’s decided not to wait for orders from his Sensei.”
“Sensei. Such bullshit.”
“I know.” She curled tighter into his lap, folding her legs and angling into the curve of his body. “Ethel woke me up.”
“She did?”
“Yes. She entered my subconscious and yanked me out of there.”
“Good for Ethel. Every minute counts for that girl.” He ran a hand over her hair. “Ethel comes in handy every so often, doesn’t she?”
She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. She told herself to stand up, shake the bad feelings off, and not be so clingy. But she didn’t. Having him hold her and occasionally run a gentle hand over her hair or along her arm was what she needed as the vestiges of the vision dispersed and her worry for the girl increased. It would only take a few seconds for A.J. to slice through her jugular vein or cave in her skull with a hammer.
“You’re getting better at this, you know,” he said. “You noticed the truck he was driving, the streets he was on, and the direction he was going. You didn’t do that a few months ago.”
