Through His Heart (Mind's Eye Book 3)

by Deborah Camp

  She leaned toward him and he met her halfway, his mouth warming hers. “You’re my everything, silly man,” she whispered as she kissed her way up the side of his face. “My champion, my protector, my partner.” Her lips caressed the shell of his ear and she felt him tremble. “My beloved.”

  He leaned away from her, his eyes glimmering in the darkness. “I know I’m difficult to love.”

  She shook her head and ran her hand down the front of his coat. “No. You’re difficult to know. Loving you is easy.”

  He gave her his lopsided smile that made her blood sing in her veins. “You know me better than anyone, Trudy.”

  “Which isn’t saying much.” She arched a brow at him.

  He arched a brow in defiance. “Has it ever occurred to you that there just isn’t that much more worth knowing?”

  “Oh, Mister Moody Blues,” she murmured, walking two fingers up his coat placket, her gaze following along, until she reached his chin, which she tapped with her forefinger as she looked into his glinting, sapphire eyes. “I’m fairly certain I’ve only scratched the surface.”

  Chapter 15

  “Well, you have a super day!” Trudy punched the cellphone button with more force than was necessary. “Creeps,” she said under her breath.

  “Problem?” Levi asked, lowering the newspaper he’d been reading to look at her.

  “The friggin’ FBI. I called to see if they wanted me to come and report to them since I have quite a few new pieces of information for them and Wannamaker says, ‘We’re following our own leads. We’ll be in touch.’ He can be so rude!”

  Levi shrugged. “So, e-mail the report to him.”

  “I was hoping they’d jump right on this.”

  “Maybe they’re hot on a trail that will pan out.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. I guess I’ll send them a report and then tell AmyLynn about the pickup and the rest.” Frustrated, she stood to go into the bedroom to get her laptop, but the flash of the sun against metal caught her attention. “Looks like we have a visitor.”

  Levi folded the paper and looked outside. “Hmm. FBI Agent Keith Givens. Wonder what he wants?”

  The agent strode to the RV, but before he could ring the bell, Trudy opened the door. “Funny you should show up here. I just got off the phone with Wannamaker who as good as told me to get lost.”

  “Good morning, ma’am. Could I speak with Mr. Wolfe?”

  Trudy propped a hand on her hip and turned to look at Levi. “It’s for you, I guess.”

  Levi came to stand behind her. “What’s going on, Givens?”

  “Agent Wannamaker would like to speak to you.”

  Trudy looked from the agent to Levi, then back to Givens. “Why?”

  Givens ignored her, his gaze locked on Levi. “Sir?”

  “He wants to see me, huh?”

  Givens nodded. “I’ll give you a ride.”

  “No, I will,” Trudy said, not liking Givens’ tone. It was almost as if Levi were a suspect! “I’m coming with him.”

  Givens frowned and Trudy was sure he was about to argue with her, but then he stepped back and gave a curt nod. “I’ll follow you.”

  Trudy rolled her eyes. “What’s your problem? You think we’ll make a run for it? We’re not criminals.”

  “It’s okay.” Levi squeezed her shoulder as he reached past her to shut door, effectively ending the confrontation. He strode to the bedroom.

  “Why do they want to talk to you? Did you send them a report or something about the case?”

  “No.” Levi sat on the bed and pulled on his boots. “I’m as clueless as you, but I’m also extremely curious.”

  “Why didn’t Wannamaker tell me he was sending someone for you?”

  Levi sighed. “Why? Why? Why? Why do you think I have all the answers to your many, many questions, Miss Tucker?” He grinned at her. “Get your coat and let’s go.”

  Since she was wearing a heavy, green sweater and the sun was shining, Trudy grabbed her jean jacket instead of her coat. She dabbed powder on her nose and color on her lips while Levi put Mouse in the crate.

  “You’re blocking me,” Levi said, nodding at her Fiesta parked in front of his snazzy Stingray rental.

  Trudy dug into her purse and tossed him her car keys. “We’ll take mine, then. I’ll let you drive it.”

  He made a sour face at her, but headed for the compact car. Trudy glared at Givens as she got into the passenger seat, She kept an eye on his black sedan through the side mirror as he followed them to the sheriff’s department. To her consternation, Givens even followed them closely as they left the car and entered the building.

  “What’s with this guy?” Trudy whispered to Levi. “You’d think he’d been assigned to bring in someone who’s armed and dangerous.”

  Levi chuckled. “I’m not armed, but I can be dangerous.”

  She gave him a shoulder bump and his nonchalant mood seemed to rub off on her a little because she felt a smile curve her lips. “It’s all very mysterious, isn’t it?”

  “Very.”

  As they entered the sheriff’s department, Wannamaker emerged from an office and frown lines appeared between his eyes when he saw Trudy. “Thanks for coming in, Mr. Wolfe.” He moved aside for Levi. “Please wait out here, Miss Tucker.”

  “What’s going on?” Trudy asked, matching his frown. “Why can’t I be in there?”

  “I have some questions to ask Mr. Wolfe.” He indicated several empty chairs. “We shouldn’t be long.”

  Levi placed his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug as he gave her a wink, silently telling her to back off. He he went into the office with Wannamaker and the agent closed the door on Trudy. She stared at it for a few moments before plopping into one of the chairs. She crossed her arms and wallowed in the feeling of being rejected.

  What in the world was going on? If it had something to do with the kidnapping, why was Wannamaker talking to Levi? She glared at the office door. Oh, to be a fly on the wall . . .

  ###

  Levi settled into the chair opposite Eric Wannamaker’s desk – or, at least the desk he was currently using. The agent sat on the corner of it and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He smiled faintly, fleetingly. The hair on the back of Levi’s neck lifted and his scalp prickled in a primeval premonition of danger ahead.

  “Can I offer you a glass of water or a cup of coffee?”

  “No.” Levi shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable and failing. “Just tell me what this is about. Does it have something to do with Rachel’s kidnapping?”

  Wannamaker folded his arms and pursed his lips “We received information last night concerning a child’s murder in which you were involved when you were a youngster. No charges were filed against you since you were a minor, but given the unusual circumstances and your antagonistic relationship with Rachel’s stepfather . . .” He lifted one should in a shrug. “A discussion about what happened back then is warranted.”

  It was as if everything inside him stopped. His heart. The blood moving through his veins. The air whistling down his throat and into his lungs. Stopped. Dead. Levi stared at the FBI agent for long seconds before he finally took a breath to relieve his burning lungs. His heart swelled to life again, but the world around him had darkened, narrowed, and now imprisoned him. He wanted to climb out of his skin, to howl in wounded rage, to ram his fists into the polished wood desk in front of him until the pain consumed him and he could think no more.

  “The murdered girl was—.”

  “Becky Landers,” Levi said, barely above a whisper. The name brought with it the fear, uncertainty, and horror he’d experienced as an eight-year-old. All the feelings he’d spent the past twenty-two years trying to forget engulfed him. Suddenly, he was in a different small room with a different law enforcement officer and his father . . . For a few terrifying moments, he thought he might spin out of control, but then he felt it. The presence of peace and serenity that he had come to know. Gregory, his spirit guide.r />
  You can do this. Gregory’s deep, melodic voice filled his head and the fear inside him dissipated. You can speak to this man about what happened. I’m here for you, if you need me. But you don’t.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Wannamaker asked, his tone more brisk, more impatient.

  “No.” Levi stared hard at the man. Inside, his rational, educated adult self warred with the fearful, beaten-down, rage-filled boy who huddled in a corner of his soul “But I will.”

  ###

  Nearly an hour later when the door opened and Levi stepped into view, Trudy took one look at him and knew that he wasn’t the same person who’d entered that room. Gone was the nonchalance and amused curiosity he’d displayed before. His hands were tightly fisted at his sides and he moved stiffly, his spine ramrod straight and his shoulders squared. When he glanced at her, she stifled a gasp at the fettered anger emanating from him.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered, walking on and not waiting for her.

  Trudy swung her gaze to Wannamaker. Even he looked paler and upset. “What’s happened?”

  Wannamaker’s lips parted as if he were going to answer her, but then he clamped down on whatever he’d been about to say. Giving a quick shake of his head, he stepped back, and closed the door.

  Whirling away, Trudy marched through the room and outside. Levi was already sitting in the driver’s seat of the car with the motor running when she made it to the parking lot. She slipped into the passenger seat and buckled herself in, her gaze slipping sideways to him. He put the car in gear and gave the Fiesta more gas than necessary. The wheels spun on the slick pavement.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He stared straight ahead, hands gripping the wheel, a muscle in his jaw ticking away.

  “What did Wannamaker want with you?”

  “Look, can you hold off the questioning for a few minutes? I need some time to think.”

  She acquiesced, but kept glancing over at him, feeling as if she were watching a flame lick its way toward a stick of dynamite. “Maybe you should call Dr. McLain.”

  “I will. Later.” At a four-way stop, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his attention focused straight ahead, but his eyes were glassy. His breath escaped in short huffs. He sounded like a bull facing a red cape. Suddenly, he slapped the flat of one hand against the wheel. “Fuck this!” Instead of turning left, he gunned the car to the right, swinging around the corner so sharply that Trudy clutched at the dashboard to steady herself.

  “Careful! Where are we going?”

  “I have a stop to make.”

  “Where?” But even as she said it, the answer loomed ahead of her. Comfort Ministries. “Levi, no. Whatever happened back there, give yourself some time to get your emotions under control. You don’t want to barge in there and regret it later.”

  “Stay here,” he barked at her as he veered the car toward the curb and jammed it into park. He bolted out, slamming the door shut on Trudy’s protests, and took the steps in front of the building two at a time.

  “Ahhgg!” With a muttered oath, Trudy scooted into the driver’s seat and parked the Fiesta properly. “Like hell I’m staying out here,” she grumbled, getting out and running up the steps and into the building.

  She halfway expected to find Levi having a panic attack just inside the door. Instead, she found other people in a panic. The receptionist stood wringing her hands outside the open double doors that gave access to the studio. Another woman stood next to her, patting her shoulder and saying, “Paula, you couldn’t have stopped him. No more’n you could stop a locomotive!” Spotting Trudy, her eyes widened with alarm.

  “Lois, where in heavens are the security guards?” Mrs. Shulter fretted.

  “They’re in there . . . in the studio,” Lois said, still patting her. “They’ll haul him outta there.”

  “He just motored through here like he owned the place!” Mrs. Shulter said, then she saw Trudy and sent her a scowl as if she were to blame somehow. “He has no business in there! No business at all.”

  Trudy rolled her eyes. Tell me about it, sister. “I’ll go get him,” she said and hurried past the two women to the large room full of cubicles, desks, and big screen televisions. Several employees gathered in little knots, speaking agitatedly and looking in one direction, toward the sound studio.

  Crap! Crap! Crap!

  Shouts and exclamations rang out and then above it all, Levi’s growling voice, “Take your fucking hands off me.”

  Crap!

  Trudy jogged in the direction of the voices, dreading the scene she was walking into. Whatever had happened with Wannamaker had set Levi on a path of destruction and she felt totally ill-equipped to handle it . . . or him.

  She caught sight of Michael Poe stumbling backward, barely catching himself before he sprawled on his butt amid snaking electric cables. He stared murderously at someone. Trudy edged around a TV camera to see the object of Poe’s rancor – Levi.

  “Don’t you touch me!” Poe yelled at Levi’s back. “I’ll have you arrested! Security!”

  If he heard Poe, Levi gave no sign of it. His entire being was laser-focused on his father, who stood nose to nose in front of him. Two men in security patrol uniforms shoved past Trudy, their hands on their holstered guns.

  “No,” John Comfort said, raising one arm to wave off the security officers. “As I’ve said, there is no need. Stand back, all of you.” He smiled coldly at Levi. “We’re rather busy here at the moment, but it appears that you’re anxious to speak to me, so please, go right ahead, son.”

  “No!” The word came roaring out of Levi and his face suffused with bright, hot color. “Don’t ever call me that!” he ground out between clenched teeth.

  Trudy glanced around and was relieved to see that there wasn’t a studio audience. For a few crushing moments, she’d been afraid that Levi had actually interrupted a taping of The Hour of Comfort TV show. The only people around seemed to be the production crew. She took a few steps closer to Levi, but his restrained demeanor anchored her in the shadows. He wasn’t out of control. On the contrary, he knew exactly what he was doing. Yes, he was furious. But he held himself in check, his hands fisted, his body angled forward, but controlled.

  “You think I don’t know it was you who told the FBI to question me?” he asked in a raspy whisper as he jabbed a finger at John’s chest. “You think I’m stupid? Do you honestly think that I don’t know that you hired detectives to find out my whereabouts on the night Rachel disappeared?”

  What?! Trudy pressed her knuckles against her lips to keep quiet. For a few moments, she hoped she hadn’t heard him right. Why would he have Levi investigated for Rachel’s disappearance?

  “Are you saying I didn’t have reason to have you investigated?” John asked in a calm, soft voice that also managed to be menacing.

  A mirthless laugh rumbled from Levi’s chest. “Fuck you, too, Pops. You’ve been poking into my business ever since Mother died, trying to prove that you’re right about me. Why do you think I bought one of the best security firms in the country? I did it to stop you from hacking into my banking and business accounts. And they stopped you, didn’t they?” He smirked, took a step back, and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, looking deceptively at ease. “You’ve spent a lot of money trying to prove that what I do is a lie, but there’s only one fraud in this family – and it’s you.”

  His father’s smirk mirrored Levi’s. “Are you finished? We have important work to return to. God’s work.”

  “Just one more thing.” Levi angled closer to him, staring hard into his eyes. His upper lip lifted in a snarl. “Leave me the fuck alone. Forget I exist. This is finished. Allow Becky to rest in peace. You’ve used her tragic death long enough for your own nefarious purposes. If you keep nosing around in my business, in my life, I’ll expose you.”

  John laid one hand across the front of his shirt. “Expose me?” He smiled, benignly. “How so?”

 
; One corner of Levi’s mouth kicked up and his eyes shone with cruel intention. “I remember,” he said in a low voice that was almost a whisper. “I remember the people you paid to come on stage and pretend to be paralyzed or blind or to be suffering from cancer or heart disease. I remember!”

  John shook his head, a pitying expression blanketing his face. “We have counselors here who can help you, if you want help.”

  “I not only remember,” Levi continued, ignoring John’s counterfeit concern. “I’ve kept in touch with several of them.”

  John’s kindly expression tightened and he glanced around – a nervous gesture that gave him away. He cleared his throat. “You should leave. As I said, we’re busy.”

  “I have a shitload of money, as you well know,” Levi said, smiling cockily. “I could buy and sell you four times over and I have more than enough to entice those folks to sing like canaries.” He lifted two fingers to his forehead and gave a jaunty, gotcha salute. “You keep that in mind the next time you get the itch to make me squirm or piss me off.” He paused long enough to relish John’s ashen face and blazing eyes. “Oh, the stories they could tell!”

  Turning away, he afforded Michael Poe a swift, condescending glance as he moved past him. His steps faltered and Trudy looked to see what had arrested his attention for that split-second. Hannah sat off to the side in a director’s chair, swinging one leg and wearing a Cheshire cat grin. When Levi noticed Trudy standing in the shadows, he dropped his gaze and shook his head slowly, almost regretfully, as he continued toward her. He paused beside her and held out his hand.

  She took it, wanting to show solidarity, although she wasn’t quite sure what had just transpired. They walked toward the exit. No one tried to stop them. In fact, she suspected that everyone was glad to see them go.

  Outside at the car, he opened the passenger door for her and one corner of his mouth quirked in an almost-smile before he closed the door. When he settled in the seat beside her, he didn’t start the car right away. Instead, he placed his hands on the steering wheel and looked in the direction of the park across the street.