by Deborah Camp
“That’s crap and you know it. I don’t understand how or why someone else’s thoughts make their way into my head and neither do you!” She pushed to her feet, still cradling Mouse against her. “I’ve been dwelling on Rachel because I keep seeing her. A man has her.” She stepped into Levi’s path. “What do you think that man will do with her? What do you think he might have already done to her, Levi?”
“Stop it.”
“Answer me.”
“What do you want from me, Trudy? What?” He pushed his face close to hers and his breath warmed the tip of her nose.
She swallowed the apprehension that tightened around her throat. “I want you to put aside your anger and resentment toward your father long enough to understand why I must contact your stepmother and tell her about my visions.”
He flinched and straightened away from her. “You’re determined to stick the knife in and twist it, aren’t you?”
Vexation darkened his eyes, but vulnerability lurked there, too. He did care, she realized. He just didn’t want to because of the ties to his father, who had never given a damn about him. Who had paid others to keep Levi away from him and Levi’s mother.
She took a deep breath and plunged on, determined to break through the barriers to his heart. “This is not about you, Levi. It’s about a child who has been kidnapped. But, if we must make it about you, then when are you going to step out from your father’s shadow?”
A frisson of surprise raced across his features before it was replaced by stony rage. He shoved his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans and side-stepped her, his long legs taking him toward her parked car. “Fuck you, Trudy.”
She winced as his muttered words sailed back to her. Undeterred, she stomped after him. He jerked open the car door and slipped in behind the steering wheel. She whipped the passenger door open and eased into the seat, settling Mouse more comfortably in her lap before she buckled herself in.
“Real mature, Wolfe.”
He started the car and maneuvered it along the street that circled the lake. “I’m sorry, but you get to me like nobody else can, Trudy.” He shook his head and his jaw firmed. “I’m not in my father’s shadow. That was a low blow.”
“If you allow him to simmer in your soul all the time, then he’s still screwing with you. Can’t you see that? Either let it go or face him and tell him to fuck off.”
“You think I haven’t? He knows exactly what I think of him and he doesn’t give a goddamn.” He stomped the gas and the little Ford zipped out into traffic. “Go ahead and do what you want. Just leave me out of it.”
“If he doesn’t give a damn, then neither should you.”
“Right. And I’ve never said that to myself either.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
Trudy heaved a sigh, trying to release the pressure building around her heart. “If Mrs. Comfort wants my help with this, I’ll have go to Missouri. You said you didn’t want us to be separated for more than a couple of days . . .” She glanced at him. “Levi?”
He stared at the street ahead, refusing to look at her. “You ask for a lot, Trudy.”
“All I’m asking is for you to stand with me. Be with me.”
At last, he rolled his gaze toward her. “Sure. That’s all you’re asking.” The sarcasm was back. He squinted at the street signs. “Do I turn here?”
“No. At the next traffic light hang a right.”
He was quiet for a minute. “What did you see? Has she been hurt?”
She pursed her lips to deny her smile of satisfaction. He was coming around. She knew he cared. “I don’t think so. She’s very sad and scared. She asks for her mother. The man told her that God gave her to him and her mother was okay with it.”
“I wonder if she is.”
“Levi!” She stared at him, feeling her eyes widen in dismay. “You don’t really think a mother would –.”
“A mother would what? Turn her back on her child to please her husband?” His glance was sharp and bleak. “Every mother isn’t Cleo Tucker.”
“I know.” She smoothed her palm over Mouse’s small head. “But this child is loved. Rachel misses her mother. She loves her mother.”
“Loving someone is no guarantee that you’ll be loved in return. However, I can guarantee you that her stepfather doesn’t give a rat’s ass about her.”
“I don’t care about him. I care about the girl. I know that you care what happens to the girl, too.”
They were stopped at a light and he turned his head to confront her. “Of course I care what happens to her. I’m not heartless, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know that better than anyone.” She snuggled Mouse closer to her body. “When we get home, I’ll call her and tell her what I’ve seen. If she wants me to help – well, we’ll take it from there.”
“Not we. You. I’ll go with you, but it’s your case. All yours.” He rubbed his left temple as if massaging away a headache. “Do us both a favor and don’t push and prod at my issues with the man who sired me. Because of him, I’ve endured shit that’s impossible for me to forgive or forget.”
A question burned in her mind, one she hesitated to ask. Ever since he’d revealed to her snippets of his horrific treatment as a child when he was sent away from home to so-called faith-based, disciplinary schools, she’d wanted to know, but had never asked. “Levi, while you were growing up away from home, were you ever . . .”
“Sexually assaulted? Raped?” he finished for her.
Trudy blinked in shock. “How’d you know I was going to ask you that?”
He smirked at her. “When it comes to my hang-ups and what caused them, I’m miles ahead of you. I’ve been analyzed, diagnosed, and picked apart by some of the best psychologists and psychiatrists around. Some of them didn’t even charge me a fee because they were itching to dissect my neuroses.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “No, I was never raped. That’s because I’ve always been a fighter and I scared a lot of those little bastards with my ability to know things about their families and about them.”
“Because you talked to their deceased relatives?”
He nodded, a grin flitting across his lips.
“I’m glad you weren’t . . . anyway, I’m glad.” She relaxed against the car seat as a weight of worry lifted from her heart.
“When any psychiatrist asked me that question, I never went back to them.”
Trudy blinked at him. “Why not?”
“They were already showing ineptness. There are other ways a person can be raped.”
The chill in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“A person’s soul, heart, and head can be raped.” He swung the car into the driveway of Trudy’s house and cut the engine. Silence settled around them, except for the occasional tick of the metal parts of the car cooling.
Trudy reached out and rested her hand on his sleeve, squeezing lightly. He looked at her, letting her see his eyes swimming with horrific memories.
“I wasn’t physically raped,” he said, his voice more husky and strained. “But they fucked with my head every day.”
She bit down on her lower lip to keep her tears at bay. And his father didn’t care. The Rev. Comfort – the man of faith, the famous evangelical preacher who had his own Hour of Comfort weekly television program – that man had sent his young son to places where predators reigned.
Hatred for John Comfort took seed inside her.
###
“Mrs. Comfort? This is Trudy Tucker, an associate of Levi’s.”
“I know who you are. I’ve read about you in the newspapers and I heard Levi talk about you on that woman’s show . . . uh . . . oh, what’s her name?”
“Lexi—?” Trudy started to suggest, referring to Lexi Patterson, host of a popular syndicated TV talk show.
“No, she was a lawyer once, I think.”
Trudy rolled her eyes. “Sissy Franklin.” The other talk show host who Levi had been involved with professionally and sexually before Tru
dy had met him.
“Yes, that one. You’re a seer, too.”
“I am. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“You know something about my baby? Do you know who has her? Is she hurt? Where is she?”
“I don’t know where she is – if I did, I would have already contacted the police about it.” Trudy drew in a deep breath, feeling the other woman’s panic, fear, and bone-deep despair. “I’ve connected psychically with the man who has her.”
“A man has her?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name? Do we know him?”
“Mrs. Comfort, if I knew his name—.”
“Right, right. I’m sorry. I’m so frazzled these days I don’t know up from down. What did you see? Did he talk to you?” She had a soft voice with a Southern accent, but not like Georgia or Oklahoma. More like someone from Tennessee.
“No, they don’t talk to me. I hear their thoughts and see what they see. I believe that Rachel is unharmed.” The other woman’s sobs wrapped around Trudy’s heart to the point of pain. “In my experience, once I concentrate on a certain case and I’m in the place or near the place where the incident happened, then the visions become more frequent and I can get more information.”
“I see.” Mrs. Comfort sniffed and her voice was a near whisper when she spoke again. “Could you hold on just a moment?”
“Yes.” Trudy listened and could tell that the woman had placed her hand over the phone’s receiver because the sound became muffled, but she could still hear her and a male voice in the background.
“I’m okay. I was just talking about Rachel.”
The man in the background spoke, but Trudy couldn’t make out the words.
“I’ll just be another minute.”
The man said something
“I’m not. I’m only . . . I haven’t. I know what I’m allowed to say.”
Allowed to say?
“I’m back. Our calls are monitored by the FBI.”
“I understand.” It wasn’t news to her. She’d worked on several kidnappings and she knew the law enforcement drill.
“Thank you for calling. If you think you could help us find her, I’d be so very grateful. Do you charge for your . . . uh, services? Would you need money upfront?”
“I’d like to have a meeting with you to discuss how I work and what you can expect from me. At that time, I’ll give you my fee schedule. If you decide you don’t want my help, then you owe me nothing.”
“That’s fair. Okay. Well, when and where did you want to meet?”
“What about this Friday? I can meet you there in Cotton.”
“Oh. Well, uh, let’s meet in Cape Girardeau. My mama lives there and I’ll be visiting her then. Her church is holding a prayer vigil for Rachel. I can give you directions to her house.”
“Okay. Can you e-mail them to me, Mrs. Comfort?”
“Sure, and call me AmyLynn.”
A few minutes later Trudy wandered into the kitchen where Levi was dishing up an omelet for their lunch. “What do you want to drink?”
“Water for me. I’m meeting her in Cape Girardeau on Friday. Have you ever been there?”
“Cape? Sure.”
“We’re going to meet in her mother’s house.”
A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. “She’s hiding you from him.”
“Hmmm. Maybe. If she hires me, her husband will know – along with the FBI, sheriff, deputies, and everyone else working on finding Rachel.”
He set the two plates on the small kitchen table, then a glass of water for her and a glass of milk for him. He motioned toward her chair. “Let’s eat.”
She sat down and he joined her at the table. “So, you’re okay with all of this? You’ll go to Cape Girardeau with me?”
“I told you I’d go with you. Am I okay with all of it? No, I’m not. I’d be much happier if you’d work on some other case, but you’re not going to do that. So, whether I’m okay with it or not doesn’t make much difference.”
She hunched her shoulders and stared at the mushroom, tomato, and cheese omelet. “I’m a lot of trouble for you, aren’t I?” When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced up from the plate to find him smiling gently at her. “Like you were reaching for a rose and got the thorns instead.”
He shook his head, still giving her that beatific smile that made her blood simmer. “Eat your lunch, Trudy.”
“She gave me directions to her mother’s house.”
“We’ll be able to find it. Cape isn’t all that big.”
“Did you live there?”
“No, but he preached in revivals there.”
“When did he get his own church?”
He shrugged. “He doesn’t have one anymore. He’s his own church.”
“What religion is he affiliated with?”
Devilish sparks cavorted in his eyes. “I call it CJC. Christians for John Comfort. I don’t think he’s actually affiliated with any specific denomination.”
“But he’s a reverend.”
“Self-annointed.”
“Can he do that?”
Levi shrugged. “Nobody’s stopping him.”
She took a bite of the omelet. “Hey, I just realized that his initials are the same as Jesus Christ.”
“Of which, he is well aware,” Levi noted, dryly as he grabbed his cell phone to check his e-mail.
Trudy picked up her tablet and focused on a candy crushing game. A companionable silence presided as they ate their lunch and shooed Mouse away from the table. Finally, Levi snatched the dog up and put her in her crate in the dining room. Trudy grinned at him when he sat back down.
“She can be a pest.”
“You’ve spoiled her,” he accused.
“She was that way when I got her.”
He eyed her empty plate. “Did you like your lunch?”
She eyed her empty plate. “Do I have to lick the crumbs to convince you?”
“No, just lick the cook.”
She leaned closer to kiss him and his hand curved around the back of her neck. He tugged her out of her chair and onto his lap and she laughed softly against his lips. He slipped his hands under her flannel shirt and skimmed up her waist and across her back.
“You taste like sin and smell like heaven.”
“How does heaven smell?”
“Like you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “I have a favor to ask of you.” He sat back from her and seriousness blanketed his strikingly handsome features. “Before we venture into Missouri, I’d like for you to have a video chat with Dr. McLain.”
Taken aback, she stared at him for a few seconds. That he’d want her to speak to the psychiatrist he’d been seeing for the past few years set her nerves on edge. She’d met Dr. McLain a few weeks ago when she’d come to the St. Louis penthouse to attend to Lizzie, who’d been on the run from Taser. Lizzie had arrived strung out on drugs and Levi had sent for Dr. McLain to deal with her. But it had always been apparent to Trudy that Levi was more comfortable keeping Dr. Althea McLain apart from others in his life.
“Talk to Dr. McLain about what?” she asked.
“About me and how being near John Comfort might bring out . . . the worst in me.”
Was he serious? There was no trace of humor in his expression and no twinkle of suppressed kidding in his cobalt eyes. “What do you think will happen to you, Levi?”
He averted his gaze from her and a sad smile poked at one corner of his mouth before he gently slid her off his lap and stood. Walking to the sink, he stared out the window for a few seconds. His silence frayed her nerves.
“It might need to get away from there or risk backsliding,” he said and then slammed the flat of his hands against the counter in a burst of frustration that made Trudy jump. “I’ve fought long and hard to get where I am in my recovery. I can’t allow him to drag me back to when I was a complete fuck up!”
“You never were,” Trudy protested, going to him, hugging him from behin
d, and pressing her face into his sweater. He was so strong and solid. She couldn’t imagine him crumbling, no matter what was thrown at him.
“I was,” he said and there was a rawness to his voice. “For a long time – most of my life – I felt like I was such a mess inside that once people got close enough to know me, they’d run the other way.” He rubbed the center of his chest with two fingers as if he were massaging his heart or making sure it was still there. “Then I met you and you made me believe that I could take a different path. You’ve seen my dark side, Trudy. That night I went off on Taser.” He paused and his throat flexed. “I know that frightened you. I saw it in your face.”
She closed her eyes for a moment as the scene played itself out for a few heart-stopping moments in her mind. Yes, the ferociousness of his anger had been scary. If Gonzo and the police hadn’t stormed in, she was fairly certain that Levi would have killed Taser with his bare hands. Not that Taser deserved mercy. He’d murdered two women, beaten Lizzie half to death, and had been hell-bent on ending Trudy’s life.
“I told you then and I tell you now, Levi. I was frightened for you, not of you.” She moved around to stand beside him and look up into his face. The sadness she saw there pricked her heart.
He turned and leaned back against the counter, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared at the floor and fought against whatever emotions were welling inside of him. His jaw muscles flexed and his breathing quickened. “When you’ve never had someone and then you do – you have this beautiful, brave, talented, sexy woman who opens her whole heart to you – you’ll do anything to keep that treasure safe.” His gaze flashed up to hers and determination flared in his black pupils. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
Could her heart burst from being filled with such sweet feelings? “You won’t.”
“Then talk to Dr. McLain for me.”
“Of course, I will. Anything for you.” She pushed up on tiptoes to nuzzle his ear and outline it with her tongue. “Anything,” she breathed.