by Deborah Camp
“Lyle? Carlyle?” Jewel sounded winded, as if her breath had been stolen from her. “My husband?”
“Yes.”
Trudy glanced quickly around the table, surveying the reactions, and caught the quick jerk of Desmond’s gaze toward Levi. An instant – so quick, she might have missed it. But she didn’t. Levi had even managed to diminish Desmond’s smirk.
“He’s worried. No? Okay. He says he’s concerned.”
“About what?” Jewel asked, her hands gripping the edge of the table.
“Someone close to you who isn’t being truthful.”
“Oh, dear.” Uneasiness collected in her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t like the sound of that! Who is he talking about?”
“He’s pointing to people lined up behind him. He says they were all deceived by the same person.”
Jewel clasped one hand on Levi’s jacket sleeve, making him flinch. “Whatever does that mean?”
“Obviously, you’re the fly in a clever spider’s web,” Desmond said with a slight chuckle. “It’s an overused metaphor, dear.”
“All the people there are dead,” Jewel pointed out. “Does that mean I’m next?”
“Your husband wants to you be cautious, that’s all,” Levi said. “He says you’re intuitive. If something or someone doesn’t feel genuine, believe in those feelings.” He tipped his head to the left. “But I do sense great distress from the people there with him.” Ever so slowly, Levi opened his eyes and they were no longer unfocused. His gaze latched onto Desmond Forté. “They were all murdered.”
Jewel gasped, Carin squeaked, Elsa snorted, and Desmond’s smirk became so unctuous that Trudy felt slightly ill.
“Why are they with my mother? She wasn’t murdered,” Carin whispered.
“Neither was Lyle.” Jewel glanced around the table. “Did we know them? Is that why they’re with my husband?”
“Maybe Lyle killed them,” Desmond opined. “He was a cardiothoracic surgeon, after all.”
“What a hateful thing to say,” Jewel said, giving him a heated glare. “Lyle lost a battle sometimes, but he never—!” Her voice cracked and Elsa rested her hand on Jewel’s forearm in a comforting gesture.
“That’s not murder,” Elsa spoke up with a lift of her overly powered nose. “As you well know, Desmond Forté.”
Desmond chuckled. “Maybe it felt like murder to them. Dead is dead.”
“They’re leaving . . . fading.” Levi shook his head. “The connection’s been broken.”
“Oh, no.” Jewel sat back, crestfallen. “I wanted to speak with Lyle. Get him back for me. Please?”
“I’m sorry.” Levi patted her hand, still clutching his sleeve. He returned the hanky to Carin. “He won’t come back. The atmosphere was not . . . conducive.”
“Well, how about Marilyn Monroe or Honest Abe?” Desmond gave a little clap and his eyes brightened with pinpoints of light. “Lyle was always such a bore. Let’s talk to someone interesting for a change.”
“Lyle was not a bore!” Jewel snapped. “He was a brilliant surgeon and chief of staff—.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Desmond said, cutting her off. “He was a good husband and devoted father, et cetera, et cetera. That was all covered at the funeral, dear sister.” He shifted his attention to Trudy. “What about you? Can you do anything interesting or are you just Mr. Wolfe’s myrmidon?”
Trudy stiffened. Bastard. Probably assumed she didn’t know the meaning of that word. She sensed Levi’s intent to speak and jumped ahead of him. “Do I strike you as a mindless follower, Dessie? Seriously?” She sent him a super-sweet smile. “You didn’t strike me as being so obtuse.” She bobbed her shoulders in a “whatever” shrug and shifted her attention to his sister, but before she could address Jewel a scene blazed into her mind. It jolted her so that she closed her mouth, forgetting her original intent. In that collection of moments, she was back in front of the hotel, standing beside Detective Bonifay’s car, lunch sack in hand. Then it was gone – snuffed out like a candle flame.
Odd. Trudy blinked slowly and realized that Levi was staring at her with laser focus. He narrowed his eyes, silently asking her if she was okay. She nodded and smiled to reassure him. The man missed nothing!
“I have something here,” Desmond said, reaching into his pants pocket and removing a gold wedding band. “Could you use this to summon its former owner?”
Levi looked at the man’s wedding band and then directly into Desmond’s eyes. A silent war raged for a few moments.
“Who does that belong to, Dessie?” Jewel asked.
“I don’t know.” Desmond glanced around the table. “I found it.”
“You found it, did you?” Elsa said, her voice dripping with disbelief. “Finders keepers?”
Desmond chuckled and shrugged. “I thought it would be fun if the famous Mr. Wolfe could tell us who it belongs to.”
“Only if the person is deceased,” Carin noted. “Right?”
Levi nodded. “That’s right.”
“But the charming Trudy can mentally connect with the living,” Desmond said, his gaze finding her again. “Oh, wait. Would the owner have to be a murderer for you to commune with him?” His smile brightened. “But that would be even more exciting, wouldn’t it? If this ring belonged to a serial killer! How dramatic. Or anticlimactic, as the case may be.”
Levi palmed the ring and then his fingers closed over it. The grandfather clock’s ticking sounded like cannon fire as they all waited for him to connect with someone . . . or not. He opened his eyes and bobbed his shoulders.
“Nothing. I’m sorry. No one is coming forward.”
Although handling objects wasn’t part of her process, Trudy decided to give it a whirl. She held out her hand to Levi for him to put the ring in her palm. He looked befuddled until she sent him an encouraging smile, then he relinquished the gold band. She examined it. Narrow with etchings or markings. Worn by a man with wide, sausage-like fingers.
Holding it tightly, she shut her eyes to give the impression that she was reaching out with her mind, even though it seemed foreign to her. Levi was the tactile one. After another few moments, she opened her eyes and blew out a breath of resignation.
“Sorry. Nothing.” She held the ring between her thumb and forefinger, offering it back to Forté. “It must remain a mys—.” An image of Detective Rodie Dupree blasted through her mind, making her wince. Then it was gone. “—tery,” she finished in a whisper. Her gaze found Levi. His attention was riveted to her. She cleared her throat and dropped the ring in front of Forté, then wiped her damp palms on her gray skirt. Her gaze skittered briefly to Forté, who was smirking. Asshole! What’s he grinning at?
“Pity. Well, can you delve into the psyche of anyone at all? Can you tell us what goes on in the mind of Justin Bieber? That should be a simple task for you, psychic or not!” He chuckled and was joined by Jewel and Carin. Elsa sent him a scowl and a contemptuous sniff. She clearly didn’t like Forté or find him amusing.
“Before we call it a night,” Elsa said, glancing around the table before staring pointedly at Desmond. “I have this . . .” She unpinned a brooch from her jacket and slid it toward Levi. “Could you tell me if anyone pops up when you hold it?”
Carin sucked in a noisy breath. “Why, Elsa Jenkins! You said you didn’t believe in any of this!”
“I said nothing of the sort, Carin Barnard,” Elsa intoned in her deep voice. “I said that I was skeptical of these two because I know precious little about them. Now, having observed a bit of what they do, I would like to see what Levi Wolfe here can discern from that bauble.”
Trudy leaned forward, examining the jewelry Levi had picked up from the table. “I can tell you that the center gem is a real emerald and not just colored glass. Looks like about three carats to me. And it’s surrounded by alternating cultured pearls and citrine gems.”
Elsa raised one brow. “You are a gemologist, as well?”
“No. I was rais
ed in the pawn shop business.”
A trace of a smile teased the corners of Elsa’s mouth. “I see. That education comes in handy, I have no doubt.” She shifted her attention back to Levi, who was running his thumbs over the large emerald. He hunched his shoulders and tipped back his head, his eyes closing. “Anything coming to you, Levi?”
“Yes.”
Everyone fell silent and all eyes were on Levi again. He knitted his brows and his chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened. Something in Elsa’s expression troubled Trudy. It wasn’t the slight smile . . . or the tipping up of her chin . . . no. It was the sparkles in her dark brown eyes. Mischief lurked there. She was up to something . . . on some kind of quest.
“A woman has come forward,” Levi said. “She’s dressed in a long gown. I believe she lived a century ago. More than that. I think she’s saying 1792. Her name is Annetta. She’s shaking her finger at me in a playful way. She’s laughing. At me, I think. Wait . . . I’m trying to understand her . . .” His voice drifted off and he squeezed his eyes shut more tightly.
Elsa’s smile faded a little.
“Okay, I see.” Levi nodded and released a long sigh. “I get it. Annetta was the original owner of a brooch like this one. Her husband, a cousin of the Prince of Denmark, gave it to her on their wedding day. It was passed down in her family, but was stolen by Nazi forces in 1940. There is a portrait of Annetta wearing it, which now hangs in the National Museum of Denmark.”
Elsa’s gaze sharpened and she leaned forward, looking past Trudy and Carin to get a better view of Levi.
“This brooch is a replica of hers because hers was never recovered. It is presumed that the gold was melted down and sold along with the jewels by those who took it from her.” He gathered in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it escape. “She says that this brooch was hidden from its owner – you, Elsa – for nearly two years before it was given back to you recently.”
“Hidden, you say?” Elsa broke in.
“Yes.”
“Not lost? Not stolen?”
Levi held up one hand, motioning for silence. He opened his eyes to slits, his brows still knitted as he concentrated on who spoke to him in his mind. “Hidden. She insists on that word. She also says it was amusing to someone . . . a way to irritate you.”
“Ah. I see.” Elsa looked directly at Desmond, who was grinning, obviously enjoying this bit of drama. “Although I’m not in the least surprised.”
Suddenly, Desmond released a hooting laugh and slapped the table with his palm. Everyone jumped and Levi’s eyes opened all the way. He blinked a couple of times and then glared at Desmond, anger glinting in his dark blues.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
Desmond patted the air. “Sorry, old man. I didn’t mean to step on your lines. I just couldn’t help it! Elsa’s face . . .” He hooted again, tears of mirth springing to his eyes behind his tinted glasses. “You’re believing all of this, aren’t you, Elsa darling? It’s so precious of you. Really, it is.” He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes before replacing them. “You see, I found that brooch in our garden gazebo a few months ago. I was removing the bench pads so that our dear Imogene could wash them, and behind one of the cushions, I saw this sparkle. Worked my fingers back there, and voilá! Elsa’s long lost brooch! You can ask Imogene. She’ll tell you the same story.”
Elsa was no longer smiling. She looked positively pissed. “That’s the story you told her to tell, anyway. Imogene would swear that the sky is red if you told her to. And, as I’ve mentioned many times since, I was never in the gazebo. Ever.”
“And, as I’ve told you many times since, whoever snatched your brooch obviously had been out there,” Desmond said, still holding his condescending smile in place.
“What is the problem here?” Jewel asked with a toss of her hands. “The brooch was recovered. Everyone was pleased. End of story.” She gave Levi a tender look. “You’ve inadvertently poked some wounds, Levi. Ignore these two. They bicker like this every time they’re in the same room together.”
“All I know for sure is that a thief is a thief, no matter what his motive might be,” Elsa declared in her deepest register, staring at Desmond.
Desmond rolled his hand at her in a formal flourish. “Elsa, has anyone ever told you that you sound like a man?”
“Dessie!” Jewel erupted, her pale blue eyes rounding in affront for her friend.
Unruffled, Elsa arched a penciled brow at Desmond. “Yes, and has anyone ever told you that you don’t?”
Levi met Trudy’s gaze across the table and was barely able to douse his smirk. Trudy ducked her chin and pursed her lips to keep from giggling.
“You two stop it this instant,” Jewel said, pressing her hands to the table and straightening her spine. “You are both acting like spoiled brats – and in front of our distinguished guests!”
“Shameful,” Carin agreed, but she was grinning.
“Let’s partake of the refreshments, shall we?” Jewel suggested, motioning to a long tray of liquor and hors d’oeuvres the maid had brought in.
“You go head, dearest,” Desmond said, rolling back from the table. “I have some reading I must do, so I’m retiring to my study.”
“Dessie, please join us,” Jewel said, pushing out her lower lip.
“No. Thank you.” Then he smiled warmly at the others as he pushed his wheelchair toward the foyer. “It has been most fascinating,” he gushed without a drop of sincerity. “But I have promised a former colleague I would write a review of his latest publishing endeavor by tomorrow, and I never, ever break a promise.” He paused near Trudy. “I hope I didn’t impose too much on your – um, abilities, little forest nymph.”
She cringed inside. “No. Not at all.” Giving a parting nod, she added, “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
“Oh, we will.” His eyes glinted darkly behind the lenses and his brows slid up. “That’s a promise!” Then he rolled out of the room.
Chapter 11
Sitting on a park bench near Jackson Square, Trudy curled her legs under her, angling sideways to face Levi. It was dark, but the street and traffic lights provided plenty of illumination. They’d driven back to the Soniat House, both lost in thought and saying little about the séance. When Levi suggested they take a walk, she wasn’t surprised when they ended up on Decatur Street. She sipped from the paper coffee cup he’d handed her from Café du Monde and the rich aroma of the café au lait shimmered through her.
“Oh my God,” she said on a moan. “This is undoubtedly the best coffee in the whole world.”
Levi drank some from his cup. “It is good. Everything tastes better in New Orleans.”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“Okay.” He rested a hand on her knee. “So, let’s talk about the séance.”
She nodded. “I think Desmond Forté might be on to us.”
Levi smirked. “You think so?” Sarcasm weighted his tone. “He all but announced that.”
“You think he knows we believe he’s the murderer or that he’s a suspect?”
“He knows and he doesn’t give a shit because he’s so damned smart and we’re so fucking stupid.”
She grinned. “I know that he’s not smarter than you. Hardly anyone is.”
His eyes sparkled as he shifted his gaze to her. “You’re so good for my already over-sized ego. By the way, baby, he’s not smarter than you either.” He caressed her knee and the silver of the ring he wore on his middle finger was cool in contrast to the warmth of his palm.
“He didn’t seem at all rattled about the murdered people who surrounded Jewel’s husband. You did see them, didn’t you? You weren’t just saying that to get a reaction from him?”
He sipped the coffee and lounged back against the bench, taking his time before he answered. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt’s collar. A breeze ruffled through his dark hair. “I threw in some theatrics. Carin’s mother was there and Jewel’s husban
d, but that’s it. Jewel’s husband is concerned about her welfare, though.”
She ran her free hand through his hair, smoothing it down at the back where the breeze had kicked up a few curls. “Theatrics, huh? You’re such a showman.”
“Show-off, you mean.” He rocked his head to the side to momentarily capture her hand between his shoulder and cheek. “What happened to you during the séance? I saw something in your expression . . . you looked startled for a second.”
“Oh, yes.” She took another swallow of coffee for fortitude. “That was weird. Weirder, than usual, that is. For a moment, out of the blue, I thought of when Detective Bonifay was parked outside our hotel. You know, when she gave me a lift back. It was just an instant. Bang! I thought about that and then it was gone.” Staring into the cup, she dissected the strange incident. “Before it happened, I felt pressure in my head, like I might be getting a bad headache, but after I thought of the detective that day, it was all gone.” When Levi lowered his brows and his cobalt eyes darkened with intensity, she tugged at the ends of his hair near his nape. “What?”
“When you got this thought about the detective . . . this image. Were you looking at her, like you did on the street, or were you looking at yourself and her? At some distance. Like a camera.”
She started to tell him that she was looking at the detective . . . wait. The image floated back to her and a bolt of awareness made her heart jolt. “Like a camera! That’s odd. How did you know that?”
“Think about it, Tru. Why would that image come to you, like you said, out of the blue?”
The answer arrived, but she disliked it so much that she didn’t even want to voice it.
“Forté put it there,” Levi said for her.
She realized she was shaking her head and stopped. “He couldn’t have.”
“Why not? You felt a pressure before the image popped up.”