Through Her Eyes (Mind's Eye Book 4)

by Deborah Camp

  “I have my own Sensei.” She glanced up at him so that he could see her smile. “You’ve helped me in so many ways.”

  “It’s mutual.” He squeezed her shoulder and she sat up. “My phone,” he said, pulling it from his pocket. He put it on speaker so that she could hear. “Yes?”

  “We got him.” It was Alice Bonifay on the phone and she sounded a little breathless. “He was pulling out of the parking garage when we nailed him. He’d knocked the girl out, but she’s alive. The ambulance is here, taking her to the hospital. Kind is headed to booking.”

  “What about Forté?”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you knew about that.”

  A crease appeared between Levi’s eyes and his gaze snapped to Trudy. “Knew about what?”

  “Forté? He’s in the wind.”

  “What? You lost both of them?” Levi moved Trudy out of his lap so that he could stand, his body almost quivering with anger.

  “No. We never had Forté. When we put a tail on him, he wasn’t at home. He hasn’t been home. His sister doesn’t know where he is either. She said he wasn’t there when she came back from her lunch out with friends. Didn’t leave a note. Didn’t take any clothes. Didn’t take his car. We have an APB out, but we haven’t seen him.”

  Trudy pulled the phone from Levi’s hand, taking over the conversation because she was afraid he was about to release a string of unprofessional words. “Hi. It’s Trudy. Alice, he’s in a wheelchair, but he’s still dangerous.”

  “Yeah, we know. Believe me, we’re not happy with this situation either. If Kind doesn’t ask for a lawyer, we’re hoping he’ll tip us off as to where Forté is. At the very least, I figure we can get him to implicate Forté in the murders. I’ll keep in touch.” The phone clicked, the connection severed.

  “I hope he talks, too,” Trudy said, laying the phone on the table. “If he names Forté, it’ll make things so much easier.”

  “They lost both of them.”

  “One. They never had—.”

  “Whatever.” He batted away the rest of her comment. “Kind had better start talking. My gut twists at the thought of Desmond Forté not being punished for every single life he’s taken. He killed practically all of them.” Sitting beside her again on the couch, he rested his chin in his hand, his expression growing dark and brooding. “I doubt they’ll find anything to link Forté to the murder scene. He’s too smart, too thorough for that. They might find something to tie Kind to being there, but even that’s a long-shot. What evidence they gather that isn’t compromised will be from the victims. Forté selected that place not only for its proximity but because it has a drain in the floor.”

  “The water wouldn’t have been turned on there. He couldn’t spray it down.”

  “He could have turned the water on and off from the meter and he could have brought tarps, chemicals, and other cleaning agents with him. He would have been careful not to leave a trace of himself. Kind? Not so much. He could have gotten careless. But not Forté. He’s killed too often and for too long to make it easy for the police to collect evidence on him.” He ran his hand down his face. “They can link him to the victims through DNA. I suppose they’ve collected sperm from the ones that were sexually violated.”

  “Then why haven’t they done that already?”

  “Because Forté has not been directly linked to the murders and because at least a couple of the bodies uncovered were placed there after Forté’s accident, which moved him even farther out of the suspect circle.”

  “I hate all this waiting! I want those two creeps behind bars right this second!”

  Levi’s phone rattled on the table. He picked it up. “This is a conference call I need to take.”

  Trudy stood, feeling restless and useless. “I’m going outside by the pool.” He gave her a thumbs up sign and she escaped outside. A few people were in the pool, so she walked around the perimeter, watching them swim and splash each other. Their laughter and antics lightened her mood and released some of the tension that had coiled in her muscles. She’d forgotten that she had her cellphone in her back pocket until she heard its melodic ringtone. Extracting it and seeing Alice Bonifay’s name and number on the screen, she punched in quickly.

  “Hello? Do you have news? Did you get Forté?”

  “No and No. But we’re working on it. I just wanted you to know that you probably saved Trini Morrow’s life.”

  “Who?”

  “Morrow. The girl Kind picked up.”

  “Oh.” Trudy stopped pacing in the shade of a covered walkway. “She was young, wasn’t she?”

  “A baby. Barely eighteen. Her parents live in Los Angeles. She came here for Mardi Gras last year and stayed. Ran out of money. She’s been living on the streets. But she’d decided to go back to California. That’s why she was hitching rides. I just got off the phone with an emergency room nurse. Trini is awake and alert. She has a concussion, broken bones in her nose and cheek, but she’s okay.”

  “Thank God for that.” Trudy slumped against the brick wall behind her.

  “Yeah. You did good. We were in a tailspin, having lost Kind. Then you and Wolfe got us back in the hunt. I’m grateful to you. And we’ll find Forté. He’s easy to spot in a wheelchair, for Christ sake. Hey, would you like to have lunch before you go home?”

  “Uh . . .” She blinked, surprised at the invitation, but responding to it with a smile. “Sure. That would be great.”

  “Good. Let’s shoot for Monday. I’m thinking this will all be over by then.”

  “I appreciate your optimism.”

  “Okay. Catch you later, then.” The phone went dead.

  Trudy shook her head and swallowed the “Goodbye” that was on the tip of her tongue. Alice Bonifay wasn’t one to waste her breath with sign-offs or fond farewells. She stared at the phone, amazed that the detective had made a point to call her and thank her, even ask her out to lunch. That meant that Alice might actually believe that she and Levi could walk the walk as well as talk the talk.

  It was Thursday. God, she hoped this was history by the time she met the detective for lunch. New Orleans had lost its romance for her and she was ready to step back into her life with Levi in Atlanta.

  ###

  Trudging into The Token restaurant, Trudy’s spirits were sagging, but she managed a bright smile for Alice Bonifay.

  “Hi.” Alice took one look at her and rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. It’s Monday and we still don’t have Forté in custody.” She lifted a hand to the hostess. “Two, please.”

  “This way.” The hostess gathered up two menus and set off with Alice and Trudy in her wake. She led them to a table by a window that faced the street. “Is this okay?”

  “Yes, thanks,” Alice said.

  “What can I get you to drink? We have some great wine and draft beer.”

  “I’ll have an iced tea,” Trudy said told the hostess.

  “Same for me.” Alice waited for the hostess to leave, then she sat back in the chair and shrugged. “I thought for sure we’d locate the slimy bastard by now. We’ve talked to everyone who knows Forté and no one has a clue about where he could be. His sister has called everyone she knows, too. We brought the maid in for questioning, but she’s nearly hysterical worrying about the creepoid.”

  “Imogene? Yeah. She adores him. Levi and I have a theory that it’s Imogene who passes notes and letters between Forté and Kind.”

  Alice studied the menu, but her gaze flashed to Trudy for a split-second. “Oh, yeah? You might be right. She hasn’t come right out and told us that, but she’s real defensive about A.J. Kind and his little wifey.”

  “What about Kind’s wife? Did you talk to her?”

  “Ida? Yeah. She acted surprised about her husband being a cold-blooded killer.” Alice looked over the top of the menu at Trudy. “I didn’t buy the act, though. She says she doesn’t know anything about Forté, other than she and her old man like him. She says he’s been ‘good’ to them. Gave Ki
nd a big bonus for the great carpentry work he did in the Chambers home and has sent him names of other people who might need his services.” She arched her pierced brow. “Sent messages through Imogene.”

  “Ah!” Trudy nodded. “Bingo.”

  A waitress brought them glasses of iced tea and then left, giving them a few more minutes to peruse the menu. Trudy tried to find something that was appetizing. Every entrée was noteworthy, but she had little interest in eating.

  “Kind started confessing everything almost before his butt hit the chair seat,” Alice said. “He was busting a gut to tell us what a badass he is and how Forté chose him to take over because Forté saw right off how special A.J. is. Blah, blah, blah. The guy is a raving lunatic.”

  “It’s creepy to think that people like him exist among us. Think of how many people he came into contact with every day who had no idea that he was so warped.”

  Alice laid her menu down on the table. “We figure that Forté sensed that we were closing in and that Kind would sing once we had him in custody. Simply put, Forté got the jump on us.” She leaned forward on her crossed arms and her gaze was direct and earnest. “But we’re going to get him, Trudy. Believe that.”

  The waitress interrupted to take their orders. Alice went with the special – steak sandwich, fries, and coleslaw – and Trudy finally decided to order quiche and a side salad. After the waitress brought them iced tea and a basket of warm rolls, Trudy settled back in the chair with a sigh.

  “I have something for you.” Alice reached into her vest pocket and removed a lilac envelope, which she slid across the table to Trudy. “Trini Morrow asked me to give that to you.”

  “Oh, the girl Kind attacked.” Trudy slipped her fingernail under the flap and opened the envelope. She removed a single sheet of lined paper, also a pale lilac. She glanced at Alice and smiled before she read the handwritten note.

  Dear Trudy Tucker;

  Detective Bonifay told me how you got a vision about me. I looked you up on the Internet. You’re awesome! I love psychic stuff, but I never knew one before. Even though we haven’t met, I feel connected to you because you saved my life. That perv would have murdered me for sure if you hadn’t helped the police locate us.

  I wanted to thank you for what you did. I’m heading back home to California. My parents sent me a plane ticket. Maybe we will meet in person someday.

  Thank you!

  Trini

  Trudy folded the paper and put it back into the envelope. “That’s nice.” She tucked it into her purse. “It’s good that she’s going home.”

  “She’s a sweet kid. This brush with death seems to have knocked some sense into her. She’s even thinking about getting her G.E.D. and then going to cosmetology school.”

  “Good for her.” Trudy took a sip of iced tea. “Well, Levi and I are ready to go home, too. He’s anxious to get back to his businesses. Work is stacking up for him.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Alice buttered a yeast roll. “He’s rich, right?”

  Trudy was taking another drink and almost choked on it. “Uh . . . well, he’s successful, yes.”

  Alice grinned. “I ‘googled’ you two. He is über rich. Last year he was the eleventh wealthiest person in Atlanta and this year he moved up to the Top Ten at number eight.”

  Trudy blinked a couple of times as her mind grasped that. “He is?”

  Alice laughed. “He is. And he is the richest bachelor in Atlanta, but you’re about to change that. Are you planning on a high society ceremony? Fancy church, huge reception with a full orchestra, fireworks and a release of doves?”

  “No.” Trudy scoffed. “Nothing like that at all.” She realized she was staring at her tea glass and shaking her head. Casting a smile at Alice, she decided to change the subject – quickly. “Your husband is very handsome, by the way.”

  Alice’s eyes lit up. “You think so? Our daughter looks a lot like him.” She reached into her small black purse for her cellphone. Swiping over the screen, she searched for a photo, found it, and handed the phone to Trudy.

  It was a snapshot of Alice’s husband and child. The little girl was dressed in a pink and white striped jumper. Tiny pink bows dotted her jet-black hair. Her dark eyes were big and soulful and her mouth was that of a cherub.

  “She’s precious,” Trudy said.

  “You thinking about having one?”

  “I don’t know. Someday, I suppose.” A sweet, cloying feeling wrapped around her heart. Motherhood. Instantly, she imagined a beautiful baby nestled in Levi’s arms. She held her breath for a few moments, surprised by the vision and how it made moisture gather in the corners of her eyes. She gave the phone back to Alice. “So, Dupree is married?”

  Alice stuffed the phone back into her purse with a chuckle. “Rodie is a serial husband. He’s on his fifth wife. But I think he’s done now.”

  “Fifth.” Trudy blew out a low whistle. “Quite the ladies’ man.”

  “No, just bad choices. He married the first one when he was two weeks out of high school. That lasted a couple of years before they were fighting every damn day and making each other miserable. Then he married a stripper.” She let out a hoot of laughter. “Yeah. Really bad choice. He has some great stories to tell about that adventure. It lasted a year. Then he hooked up with a woman and had two children with her. Once she had the kids, Rodie became the sperm donor and little else to her. Her whole life was devoted to the kids and Rodie didn’t exist, other than to pay for things for their children. They divorced after a dozen years or so. Next, he rebounded with a cop’s widow. They made each other miserable and didn’t stay married for even a year before they raced each other to divorce court. Now he’s married to Marilee. She’s a retired high school principal and dotes on Rodie. Sends him a snack basket every day with goodies in it that he shares with some of us. Candy, cookies, trail mix, fruit cups, that sort of thing. And she always puts a little note in it for him. Today the note read, ‘I didn’t marry you because you carry a gun. I married you because you carry the fun.’” Alice smiled. “Rodie loves that shit.”

  “I love that, too. Little things like that mean a lot.”

  “Yeah, I think Rodie found a keeper in Marilee. She’s two years older than him, but she looks five or six years younger. She’d been married twenty something years when her husband died. Her three kids are grown now with kids of their own. Rodie’s two are in college. You can tell that Marilee and Rodie really like each other, you know?”

  Trudy nodded. Yes, she knew. She liked, admired, respected, and loved Levi Wolfe. The waitress brought their food and they set upon it.

  “This is good,” Trudy said, after sampling the quiche.

  “So, tell me. When did you first realize you could do . . . the ESP thing?”

  “I was young. Around ten, I suppose. I don’t really know because it was a gradual thing and I thought that everyone had dreams like mine.”

  “Same for Wolfe?”

  “He was younger than that. He’s more advanced than I am. He even went to a college in England and earned a degree in it.”

  “Wow.” Alice’s eyebrows lifted. “No shit? I saw online that he has a master’s in psychology.”

  “He’s a man of many talents and interests.”

  Alice was quiet for a few minutes as she bit into the steak sandwich and sampled the fries and slaw. “I’ve grown up around fortune tellers and spiritualists. They’re a dime a dozen here in the Big Easy. But you two.” Alice shook her head and puffed out a laugh. “You two blew my ever lovin’ mind. It must be heady stuff being able to do what you two do.”

  “It can be a burden, too. Having grieving people ask me to tell them who killed their loved ones, what happened to them, where to locate them or their bodies . . .” Trudy set down her fork. “It can be nerve-wracking, too. Like now. I’m all jittery because I want Forté found and behind bars. All the lives he’s taken and ruined and he’s out there somewhere.” She waved a hand toward the nearest window. “It makes me s
ick that he could get away with it all.”

  “He won’t.” Steely determination glinted in Alice’s eyes. “That bastard will get his.”

  Trudy jumped a little when her cellphone sounded. “That could be Levi.” She reached into her purse for her phone just as Bonifay’s phone chimed. They shared a chuckle as they grabbed their phones. Trudy stared at the number, not recognizing it.

  “Hello?”

  A recorded voice answered and she heard the same voice emerge from the phone in Alice’s hand. “Levi Wolfe is calling. He needs your assistance. He is at this location. Please call or go to him at once.”

  “What the hell?” Alice asked, looking across the table at Trudy, who was already standing, staring aghast at the screen on her cellphone.

  “It’s his emergency call key fob thing. We have to go now. Levi’s in trouble.”

  ###

  His eyes felt like hot coals. Levi removed his reading glasses and rubbed his burning eyes as he fell back against the couch cushions. When his vision cleared, he glanced at his wristwatch. Just after noon. He yawned hugely as he stretched up from the couch. He’d been reading through architectural renderings all morning and now it was afternoon. Idly, he wondered what Trudy was talking about with Detective Bonifay. She’d agreed to meet her for lunch for a girl’s get-together. Bonifay didn’t seem the sort of lady who lunched . . .

  . . . but what the hell did he really know about women? They were a constant source of mystery. Like Trudy and her distaste for shopping and love for half-price anything. He’d never understand it, so he’d simply have to learn to live with it. Adapt to it. Hmmm. A brilliant idea soared through his brain and he reached for his phone. Searching through his contacts, he found the number he needed and waited impatiently for the caller to pick up.

  “Diane Fosburgh speaking,” a cultured voice with a hint of Southern charm slid into his ear. “Is this the elusive Mr. Levi Wolfe?”

  “Hello, Diane. Good to hear your voice again. I have a strange request I trust you can fulfill.”