Through His Touch (Mind's Eye Book 2)

by Deborah Camp

  Levi shook his head. “I can’t eat.”

  “You should—.”

  “No. Take it away,” Levi cut Wes off, shoving aside the grapefruit. “The cops want me to drop by this morning.”

  Trudy exchanged a quick look with Wes. She realized she already liked him. There was something solid and honest about his craggy face and the erect way he held himself that shouted “stability” to her. She sensed he was a calming presence for Levi.

  “You should contact your attorney before you go to the police station,” Trudy said, folding her arms on the table and leaning closer to Levi.

  “My attorney?” He sent her a quick scowl. “What for? I don’t have anything to worry about. I’ve been tailed by security for weeks and I didn’t leave this place all weekend. My whereabouts are well documented. They probably just want to ask me if I knew of anyone bothering her.” He turned his face away from her to stare out the floor to ceiling windows at the brightening morning.

  “I’m sure you’re right, but you should still consult your attorney.”

  “Listen to her, boss,” Wes spoke up as he returned to the table to hand Trudy a coffee mug. He set a small pitcher of half-and-half and a sugar bowl on the table. “Even with an airtight alibi, it wouldn’t hurt to call Angela.” He glanced at Trudy. “Angela Cochran is his attorney.”

  Levi’s cellphone did a jitterbug on the scattered newspapers and he snatched it up. He glanced at the screen and winced. “Hi.” Levi propped his elbow on the table and covered his eyes with his hand as he listened to the caller. “Yes. Yes. No, I’m okay. How are you?”

  Trudy watched him out of the corner of her eye as she sprinkled sugar over the grapefruit and added half-and-half to her coffee. She wanted to sit in his lap, wrap her arms around him, and clutch him to her, but she knew he would have none of that right now. He was already appalled at himself for his “slip up” when she’d first entered the room. He wasn’t used to leaning on someone for emotional support – especially in front of another man! She was sure the concept was totally foreign to him.

  “I just got off the phone with them. They want me to come in. Do you think I should call Angela before I go?”

  Trudy heard a woman’s voice emerging from the phone, and in that instant, she knew it was Sissy Franklin. Jealousy rose in her like a fist and it took everything she had to beat it down.

  “Yes, you’re right. I’ll call you later.” He punched the “End” button and then tapped in a phone number. “Hello, Levi Wolfe calling for Angela Cochran, please. Thanks.” He tapped his fingers on the table top for a few seconds. “Hey, Cocky, did you hear about Nicola Bartlett?” He closed his eyes and tipped back his head, his movements those of a man so full of pent up feelings that he didn’t know what to do with himself. His chest rose and fell with his deep breaths, straining his shirt buttons. “The cops want to talk to me this morning and Sissy said I should let you know about it.”

  Sissy said! Trudy pressed her lips together and shot him a withering glare, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was immersed in his conversation with his attorney. She shifted in the chair and saw that Wes was regarding her with a slight smile. He gave a little shake of his head as he moved down the steps with practiced ease, a coffee pot in one hand. He topped off her mug and then Levi’s.

  “What else would you like for breakfast, Trudy?” Wes asked, his deep voice pitched just for her ears.

  “Nothing, thanks.” She tried to get a read on Levi’s conversation, but his attorney was doing most of the talking.

  Wes bent forward a little to capture her attention. “An omelet? How about one of my famous currant and cinnamon croissants?”

  “You made them?”

  “I did.”

  “Then I can’t refuse.”

  He nodded and patted her shoulder. “It’s good to have you here.”

  She blinked up at him, surprised at his statement. Levi tossed the cellphone onto the table.

  “Okay, so Cocky’s meeting me there at ten. Is everybody happy now?”

  “Hardly,” Trudy drawled, thinking he was bordering on being a brat. “You call her Cocky?”

  His lips twitched into an almost-smile. “Lots of people call her that. She’s ballsy and it fits her.”

  Trudy sipped her coffee, wondering if he’d bedded Cocky too. Then her thoughts doubled back to his earlier comment and she couldn’t rein in her snarky tongue. “You should call Sissy and let her know that you took her sage advice about consulting with your attorney.”

  Silence settled in the room like a lead weight. Levi looked out the windows again, a muscle in his jawline ticking away. An apology almost burned a hole in Trudy’s tongue as she kept her lips sealed, stubbornly refusing to voice it. After a full minute, Levi pushed up from the chair. “I’m off.” He strode toward the living room.

  Trudy sprang up and followed, catching up with him in the hallway. She slipped her fingers under his belt near the small of his back to stop him. “Levi!” She waited for him to turn to face her. The wariness and pain in his eyes brought into sharp focus what was most important and Sissy didn’t make the list. She slipped her arms around him and kissed his chin and then his cheek. His citrusy scent wafted over her, through her.

  “I’m sorry, Levi. So sorry. I know you’re hurting,” she whispered against his freshly shaved skin. She closed her eyes when his arms enfolded her. “You cared a lot for her, didn’t you?”

  “She was a good person. A sweet girl.” His voice was laden with grief, but when he spoke again there was steel in it. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to find the motherfucker who did this and make sure he pays. Pays with his goddamned life.”

  “Shhh,” she hushed him, tipping his face down. She ran her hands lightly over his hair and kissed his eyelids. “I’m here for you. You understand?” She kissed his parted lips, letting hers linger. “For you, Levi. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

  He released his breath in a long sigh that mingled with her own. Kissing the side of her neck, he whispered, “Thank you, baby. I just need to get through this. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He let her go and went into the bedroom for his suit jacket. He slipped it on and checked himself in the mirror before striding to the front door, pausing to drop a kiss on her forehead.

  After he’d left, Trudy returned to the dining room. A delicious smelling croissant on a red china plate sat next to the grapefruit now. Trudy took her seat again and tasted the buttery, soft pastry.

  “Oh, my God! This is delish!” She took another big bite and then a sip of coffee.

  “Thanks. It’s my mother-in-law’s recipe, but I added a few ingredients to it. Do you like to cook or bake?”

  “Both. I come from a long line of great cooks,” she said with a proud smile. “My mother works for a caterer. I have a few dishes that could knock your socks off.”

  “We’ll have to trade recipes.” He came into the dining room with a mug of coffee in one hand. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please, do.” She munched happily on the croissant that was liberally laced with currants and cinnamon. Her gaze drifted to the folded newspaper. “Did you know Nicola well?”

  “I met her once, but I watched her on TV almost every night.”

  She digested this. “Since Levi has dated her for a while, I assumed you’d know her fairly well.”

  He drank some coffee and took his time answering her unspoken question. “Levi never – well, rarely brings women here for social visits.”

  “Why not?” She gestured around them. “It’s gorgeous!”

  Wes shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”

  She drew in a dramatic breath. “The man loves being a mystery. My nickname for him is Mister Moody Blues.” She speared a wedge of grapefruit and chewed it while gazing outside where joggers and women pushing baby carriages were plentiful this fall morning. “Do you have any children?”

  He smiled, pride glinting in h
is close-set eyes. “Three girls.”

  “Sounds like you’re outnumbered.”

  “Happily so.”

  “I hope I don’t get in the way around here. I’m sure you have a routine. I’ll try to be as unobtrusive as possible. Levi didn’t know I was arriving. I surprised him – and you – and everybody else around here.”

  He chuckled and it rumbled from his chest like distant thunder. “I admit I was dumbfounded when Levi told me about you and him. I was dubious, thinking that his mouth had placed a bet that his body couldn’t make good on – until about half an hour ago. Now, I’m optimistic.”

  At first, she didn’t know what he was talking about, but his gentle smile reached out to her and she knew he meant Levi’s uncharacteristic behavior when he’d embraced her, sought comfort from her. “I care for him,” she said, simply.

  “I see that.” His thin lips curved. “You’ve got a tiger by the tail, you know. He won’t be easy.”

  “Nothing about him is easy,” she agreed. “Have you met Sissy?”

  He nodded.

  She tried to act nonchalant, but feared she failed. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff about taking her advice.”

  “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with rapping his knuckles every so often. He’s a big boy. He can take it.” He tipped up the mug, finishing off the coffee. “I have laundry to do. Can I throw anything in the wash for you?”

  “Yes, I do have a few things. I’ll gather them up.”

  “Good. He wants you to make yourself at home here – and so do I. If you want to cook, don’t worry about hurting my feelings. And if you’d rather I cook, I’m more than happy to because that’s part of my job.”

  “You can be the chief cook and bottle washer here and I’ll take on those duties when we’re in Tulsa – as usual. He seems to be a neat person, so how much work is there to do around here?”

  Wes chuckled. “You’d be surprised. It’s not unusual for him to have lunch meetings here and there can be anywhere from one or two guests to up to a dozen, depending on the project he’s working on. When he’s here on weekends, he usually has some guys over to watch sports and they always make a huge mess for me to clean up. He uses this place for business parties, too, and I cater those and clean up after them.”

  “How often does he have parties?” Levi throwing a party. Somehow, that didn’t compute.

  “Several times a year. Usually after a building project is completed or one has sold. He’ll host a congratulatory party for those involved. And then there are the Re-home parties.”

  “The what?”

  “Re-home. The charity Levi founded.” He squinted one eye at her. “You don’t know about that?”

  “No.” She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t see anything about that when I ‘googled’ him either.”

  He nodded. “He keeps his direct involvement low key. It’s like Habitat for Humanity, but he focuses on certain areas of the country. Atlanta, New Orleans, and the Appalachians. He sends in crews to improve houses that people are living in that are falling apart. He hosts three or four fundraisers a year and most of them are held here. In February of each year he has the biggest fundraiser. It’s a dinner and an auction and it’s held in a public venue.”

  Slumping in the chair, she scolded herself for knowing so little about the man she was sleeping with – living with. Then, she realized that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about her, too. Time would repair all of that. “Did he tell you that we’re going to live together?”

  “Yes. He told me this morning. Again, I was dumbfounded.”

  “Me, too.” She laughed and popped the rest of the croissant into her mouth. “But he can be very persuasive.”

  ###

  After placing her meager amount of clothing into the huge closet reserved for her, Trudy stood back and laughed. The twenty or so articles of clothing hanging there and the three pairs of shoes, a purse, and luggage sitting under them looked ridiculous, like someone had moved out and left a few things they no longer wanted.

  Shrugging, she went into the bedroom and was surprised to see that the bed had been made. While she’d been in the closet, Wes had quickly tidied up the bedroom. It was now as pristine as a hotel suite. Looking at the man, one would never peg him as a housekeeper and cook. He looked more like a security guard or a fitness trainer. Levi had said he was retired from the navy and he certainly fit that image with his closely cropped hair, narrowed, piercing eyes, and deep, almost gruff voice.

  She liked him. A lot. In fact, she was fairly certain they were going to get on like strawberries and whipped cream.

  From what she’d seen so far, Levi had a small army of people around him who were loyal and even protective of him. He had a knack for that – garnering trust from people while not fully trusting anyone himself.

  Her cellphone rang and she yanked it from the back pocket of her jeans, thinking it must be Levi checking in. But it wasn’t. She stared at the screen for a few seconds before she recognized the number. Key West Police.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, pretty lady. It’s Tom. Remember me?”

  “Vaguely,” she said, smiling as she pictured Detective Tom Sinclair’s genial smile. They’d shared some flirtations and a dinner together while she’d been assisting with the serial murderer apprehension. “What’s going on?”

  “Jay Yardley’s trial is set to begin January tenth and he’s looking at life without parole. He’s pleading insanity. Shocking, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m flabbergasted.” She shook her head as scenes of Jay’s depravity and viciousness whipped through her mind. “As long as they keep him locked up good and tight . . .”

  “Right,” Tom agreed. “Say, I was looking through the evidence on that case . . . wrapping everything up, you know, and I found something.” He was quiet for a few moments. “I think it belongs to you.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “A University of Tulsa coffee mug. It was among Yardley’s things.” A sigh whispered across the phone. “In with his souvenirs.”

  “His . . .” Her blood chilled instantly as his meaning slammed into her. “Oh, my God!” She sat down on the bed, her knees giving way. A serial killer had her coffee mug among the items he’d taken from his victims as souvenirs. But how? She closed her eyes, thinking . . . thinking back to Key West and the Stirring Palms RV Park. “At the fishing pier.”

  “Say what?” Tom asked.

  “I had that mug one day at the fishing pier when Jay stopped by and we chatted. I had my hands full with Mouse and . . . oh, right. Quintara had called and I was talking to her on the phone. I left my mug on the pier. Later that day, I remembered and went back there, but it was gone. I didn’t think anything else about it because I have several of those. No big loss.”

  “Looks like Jay took a liking to it. And to you.”

  A shiver scampered down her spine. If he had the mug among his souvenirs, then that could mean that he’d tagged her as his next victim. “Ummm, thanks for the information, Tom. You don’t have to tell Levi. I will.”

  “I e-mailed him about it so he could add it to his files and sent him a photo of the mug.”

  “What?” She stood up, her strength flooding back into her limbs. “Why? I mean, I wish you . . . oh, never mind.” She stomped one foot. Levi would blow a gasket about this and he already had too much on his mind. “It’s just that he got some bad news this morning and—.”

  “Yeah, I know. I saw the report about his girlfriend getting murdered. Have they arrested anyone yet?”

  “No, not yet.” She glared at the cellphone, her feelings stinging from Tom’s poor and spiteful choice of words. Squaring her shoulders, she decided not to let it pass. “He used to date Nicola, Tom. I’m his girlfriend.”

  He chuckled. “You’re admitting it now, huh? The last conversation we had about this, you were ticked off because he’d told me that you belong to him.”

  She rolled her eyes, giving him that one. “Yes,
well, things have changed.” And it’s none of your business! “Thanks for the information, Tom. It’s unsettling, but the whole Jay Yardley case is unsettling.”

  “You said it, babe. Hey, if you’re ever this way again, look me up and I’ll spring for a cup of coffee.”

  “That’s mighty generous of you,” she retorted with a smirk. “Take care of yourself, Tom.”

  “Ditto.”

  She ended the call and pushed the cellphone back into her pocket. Jay Yardley had targeted her! If they hadn’t zeroed in on him when they did, he might have—. No, she couldn’t think about that. A groan worked up her throat when she thought of Levi opening that e-mail from Tom. Crap, crap, crap!

  Moving from the bedroom to the living room, she stood at the windows and gazed at the unfamiliar landscape. For a few minutes, homesickness swept through her. She wanted Mouse and to sit in her own living room or to visit her parents or sister or brother without a security guard beside her. Life was so much simpler in Tulsa. It was also sans Levi and that wasn’t good.

  Sweet feelings poured through her as she recalled how he’d held onto her, seeking comfort from her as he’d struggled to accept the news of Nicola’s murder. He’d lowered his shields and had revealed his heart to her – his battered heart. Those shields he erected would be her biggest challenge when it came to living with and loving Leviticus Wolfe. She had to break through them and he had to trust her or this relationship was doomed. Couldn’t he see that? Hadn’t his psychiatrist told him that his trust issues had to be resolved if he ever wanted to achieve a deep, lasting relationship with anyone?

  She noticed a pair of binoculars resting on a table and grinned. Did Levi or Wes use them to spy on the “little people” below? Or maybe someone was a bird watcher? Yeah, right, she thought with a twist of sarcasm.

  She brought them up to her eyes and fiddled with the focus until objects sharpened. Her attention was drawn to a group of walkers moving along the sidewalk in front of the building. Even though it was a nippy fall day, most of them were dressed in shorts, t-shirts, and hoodies. They were mostly women – she counted seven – and three men. As they drew even with the building, one of the women looked up. All the way up to the penthouse floor and a beam of sunlight bathed her face beneath the bill of her baseball hat.