Through His Heart (Mind's Eye Book 3)

by Deborah Camp

  “How nice. How’s the case going?”

  Trudy plopped Mouse into her lap. Dear Quintara. Always eager to hear about her progress and offer advice when needed. “Slow. It’s going slow. I wasted time chasing the wrong perp and I haven’t connected with the real kidnapper for a while, which has me on edge.”

  “You stumbled across a different child predator?”

  “Yes, and the guy has already served a prison sentence for molestation and he’s probably headed back to the joint. But there’s no evidence that he has anything to do with Rachel’s kidnapping.”

  “Setbacks are part of it, dear. You have to overturn a lot of rocks before you find the right snake.”

  “I suppose, but it makes me look incompetent.” Her thoughts circled back to Mr. Bracken and she winced as the sharp pain of rejection pierced her again.

  “Don’t worry about that, Trudy. Success is sweet vindication and you will be successful.”

  The pain eased up like a boo-boo getting a mother’s kiss. “I love you, Quintara.”

  “Sweet child, the feeling is mutual. One of my other loves is here.”

  “Oh, who?” She grinned. Sounded juicy! Quintara was always running into old lovers, new lovers, and soon-to-be lovers.

  “Levi.”

  “Huh?” She straightened as if her spine had become a steel rod. “He’s in Tulsa?”

  “No!” Quintara’s laugh was low and musical. “I’m in Sarasota with him. We just finished a panel together. He’s so very in his element at functions like this. You should be here to see him in action.”

  “I’d love to, but I’m working.”

  “So is he, Trudy.” Her tone had become harder, taking on the rap of a teacher wielding a ruler. “He joins you when you’re working.”

  Trudy slumped back onto the couch, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Damn guilt! “You’re right, of course, but I need to be here so that I can channel better.”

  “It’s your call, of course. If you don’t think it’s important to take a day off to watch him work . . .”

  “I have watched him work.”

  “Not like this, you haven’t. You’ve never seen him in front of an audience. To witness him commanding a stage, demanding the attention of everyone, and making believers out of non-believers. You haven’t seen that.”

  “No, I haven’t.” She stared at the ring on her finger. To get away from Cotton for one day sounded like heaven. Maybe it would revive her faith in herself. Her mind was made up. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Don’t tell him.”

  Quintara chuckled. “I won’t.” She cleared her throat. “Has he been ill?”

  “No. Why?”

  “He looks fatigued. He insists that his lack of sleep and energy has to do with business snafus.”

  “He’s stressed out, but it’s temporary. Don’t worry, Quintara. I’m on it. See you tomorrow. I’ll text you the details.” She disconnected and grabbed her laptop to make the necessary flight arrangements. Before she could book a flight, a loud thump sounded against the RV, shaking it and making Mouse bark furiously. “What the heck was that?” Trudy jumped up from the sofa and glanced out the window. What she saw made her fling open the front door.

  Frank Henderson had a man by the throat and was pressing him up against side of the RV. The man struggled, trying to pry Frank’s fingers from around his neck.

  “Get your damned hands off me!”

  “What’s going on?” Trudy asked as she checked out the area. Thank God, no one was around to witness the assault.

  “This is Charles Gassaway. He was snooping around your RV, ma’am,” Frank said, cutting his eyes to Trudy.

  “I came here to talk to her is all,” Gassaway said, sounding like more like a squawk box with Frank’s big hand closing off his airway. His face was turning red and he tried to kick out and connect with Frank’s shins.

  “Let him go, Frank. Please.” Trudy nodded encouragement to Levi’s security man.

  Frank’s hand popped off Gassaway’s throat and he retreated a couple of steps. Like most of Gonzo’s security guys, Frank was a lean, mean, muscular machine. His black leather pants hugged bulging thighs and a tight backside. His black t-shirt and black leather jacket added more machismo to him. “Don’t try anything,” he warned the private detective.

  “Like what?” Gassaway jerked his coat back into order and glanced apprehensively at Trudy. Conversely, Gassaway was short and stocky with a spare tire around his waist. “I wasn’t snooping like he said.”

  “Were you snooping around here last night?”

  “No.” He looked from her to Frank. “Honest Injun!”

  Frank’s steely gaze tracked from Gassaway to Trudy. “Someone was around here last night?”

  “Yes.” She chewed fitfully on her lower lip. “I - I heard someone outside and I saw a man’s shadow.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Gassaway said. “I only wanted to touch base with you and compare notes.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Trudy asked, leaning a hip against the doorframe and moving Mouse back inside with her foot. She wasn’t at all convinced that he hadn’t been outside last night. Although, he didn’t have the right body type. Gassaway was too thick around the middle.

  “I’m leaving,” Gassaway said with a scowl. “I’m off the case.”

  Trudy looked at him in surprise. “Oh? You quit?”

  He shook his head and wedged his ball cap more firmly onto his head. “Let go. The reverend never wanted to hire me anyway. Just did it to get back in clover with his wife. She wasn’t happy with how the locals were handling the kidnapping. Now that the FBI is more involved, I guess she told the reverend he could cut me loose.” He shrugged. “I think it’s a mistake. I know how to talk to people around here and the FBI knows how to make them clam up. These folks don’t trust the government all that much.”

  Trudy took the measure of him and decided that he might not look like much, but he probably had a lot of detective work under his belt. He might be the asset she needed right now. And if he had been casing her out, she’d like to keep him close enough to keep an eye on him. “Do you think the kidnapper is working alone?”

  “Probably not. He’s got that kid holed up somewhere and someone is helping him keep her out of sight. Or he’s somewhere remote where there aren’t any prying eyes and nosy neighbors.”

  “So, you think Rachel is still alive.”

  “Yeah.” He squinted at her from behind his wire-framed glasses. “Don’t you?”

  She nodded, secretly relieved by his affirmation.

  “There hasn’t been any ransom demands, so it’s anybody’s guess what he’s doing to her and for how long he’ll keep her. The longer she goes missing, the less likely we’ll find her alive. That’s my take on it, anyway. I told the reverend that now isn’t the time to let me go. The investigation needs to hit high gear. The trail is getting cold. Real cold.”

  “I agree, Mr. Gassaway.”

  “Call me Charlie.”

  She looked at Frank, who was clearly confused and ready to throw Gassaway off the property. “Charlie, won’t you come inside? How about a cup of coffee?”

  Gassaway’s pepper and salt eyebrows rose in surprise and then he smirked at Frank. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “Come on in, Frank. Have a cup with us.”

  “Uh . . . well, ma’am, I shouldn’t—.”

  “You should come inside, Frank,” Trudy said, waving him and Gassaway forward as she bent to pick up Mouse and prevent any ankle biting. “I have a proposition for Charlie and you can help me with the negotiations.”

  Chapter 12

  The conference room at the Sarasota Ritz Carlton was standing room only. Only one chair was unoccupied and that was because the man sitting in the chair directly in front of it was tall and broad, making it difficult to look around him to see the stage. Trudy inched her way around the people standing and milling and fussing about not having anywhere to sit and slipped into th
e chair. She couldn’t see the stage unless she leaned waaaay over to the right, practically putting her head in the woman’s lap beside her, to see a wedge of stage between the big man’s shoulder and the woman’s next to him. She didn’t mind. Levi wouldn’t be able to spot her, giving her time to check him out, unnoticed.

  She’d taken a flight to Sarasota and had touched down a couple of hours ago. The hotel was grand and several hundred people had turned out for the event. Qunitara had met her in the lobby and spirited her away to her room so that she wouldn’t be seen by Levi before she was ready to reveal her presence.

  “You can’t see anything from there,” the woman beside her said. She smiled kindly at Trudy. Middle-aged, she wore a tropical print dress and strappy sandals. Diamond and ruby rings sparkled on her fingers. Her nametag read: Nell Belmont, Naples, FL.

  “It was the only one left. I hope you don’t mind if I lean over a little from time to time to get a peek at the speaker.” Trudy smoothed her dark green skirt and pushed the long sleeves of her pale yellow linen shirt up to her elbows. Coming to sunny Florida from snowy Missouri was a pleasant shock to the system. Of the clothes she had in the RV, only about four items were tolerable for a sunny clime.

  “Don’t mind a bit,” the woman assured her. She glanced at Trudy’s nametag. “Trudy. That’s a pretty, old-fashioned name like mine.” Nell nodded toward the stage. “Levi Wolfe is who I’ve come to this conference to see. When my first husband was missing after he went on a nature hike, I mailed his tie tack to Levi Wolfe. Mr. Wolfe called me and said that my husband was lying dead in a ravine. He wrote a detailed description of the area and sent it to me, which I took to the police.” She arched one of her expertly groomed brows. “Very reluctantly, they went to the area – a couple of miles from where we’d assumed Seth had journeyed – and found Seth’s body exactly where Levi told them it would be.” She leaned her shoulder into Trudy’s and said, sotto voce, “He’s magnificent!”

  Trudy smiled, politely. “I agree. He’s extremely gifted.”

  “Has he located a spirit for you?”

  “Yes.” Not exactly for her, but for cases they were working on.

  “Then I don’t have to sell you on him.”

  “No. I’m sold.” She grinned, thinking that Quintara would be braying like a donkey if she could hear the conversation. Quintara had a reserved seat at the front, which she’d generously offered to Trudy, but understood when Trudy had declined. She’d supplied Trudy with Levi’s suite number and a schedule that indicated he had a three hour block of free time after his speech and before dinner tonight in the hotel ballroom. “Did you learn about him through his books?” she asked Nell.

  “No. I went to one of these conferences to listen to a lady psychic who I’d heard was quite good. He spoke before her and . . . oh, my! I mean, aside from the fact that he’s strikingly handsome, he’s mesmerizing. I also appreciated that when he had bad news to deliver, he asked the subjects to see him privately. Some of them are such grandstanders that they don’t consider or care about the impact their messages can have on us.”

  A hush fell over the crowd and Trudy leaned sideways to spy a young woman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with “Ghost Hunter” written across it take the stage. She smiled at the audience as she brought a microphone up to her mouth. “Hello, everyone. Can you hear me?”

  A chorus of “Yes” rose from the crowd.

  “Thank you. I’m Carnie Raines, president of the Sarasota Spiritualism Society, and I’m honored to introduce our next guest. He’s one of the most renowned psychics in the country, if not the world, and he’s also a successful entrepreneur. Levi Wolfe began experiencing psychic connections with the deceased when he was a child. He’s a graduate of Essex, England’s Arthur Findlay College for the Advancement of Spiritualism and Psychic Sciences and he has a master’s degree in psychology. He’s the owner and CEO of Wolfe Enterprises, Inc. in Atlanta, Georgia and he’s the author of several bestselling books. He’s worked with the FBI and law enforcement agencies throughout the country and has assisted in the identification and arrest of countless law-breakers from hit-and-run drivers to serial murderers. Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Levi Wolfe.”

  Trudy rose halfway up from her seat to see over the man’s head in front of her. Spotting Levi, her heart actually skipped a few beats. He was wearing her favorite suit – his dark blue, classic fit Armani with a black shirt and blue and black striped tie. He’d meticulously combed his black hair, but a few locks had already rebelled and fallen onto his forehead. She drew in a deep breath, thinking that she could catch the scent of his clean, citrusy cologne. He took the mic and thanked Carnie before facing the audience and waiting for the applause to die down. Trudy eased back into the chair again to listen.

  “Good afternoon. It’s great to be here. For those who haven’t seen me in person before, allow me to give you an idea of how I work. I’m a medium – among other odd things.” Soft laughter lifted from the crowd.

  Trudy imagined his gestures and facial expressions and watched the rapt faces around her. Nell Belmont beamed, her gaze fastened on Levi.

  “I summon the deceased. Sometimes they answer and sometimes they don’t. Usually, they do, especially if I have an object that belonged to them. I don’t know exactly how it works. Over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not supposed to know it all. Life should always contain a sufficient amount of mysteries to create wonder in even the most jaded of us. Many of you here want me to speak to someone who has passed on and I’ll be pleased to oblige, but first I’d like to talk a bit about the different kinds of psychics and what they can and can’t do . . .”

  Settling more comfortably in the padded chair, Trudy enjoyed the cadence of his husky voice, which seemed to hold a hint of intimacy. He spoke eloquently, peppering the information with personal anecdotes and an occasional humorous revelation.

  “ . . . I once told an attractive barmaid that I was a psychic and she asked me whose sidekick I was. I answered, ‘George Clooney’s.’ She was very impressed.”

  “. . . my client’s deceased aunt finally stepped forward, told me to go F myself and the old, gray mare I rode in on, and faded away. I didn’t charge her niece for that rather graphic message from beyond.”

  In short, he had the audience enthralled before he started channeling. He asked Carnie Raines to come back on stage and select people for his readings. They came forward and gave him the object they’d brought that had belonged to a deceased friend or relative. He worked remarkably quickly, calling forth spirits, relaying messages as the audience members sobbed or laughed or gasped. His husky voice was amplified by the microphone and sounded like music in Trudy’s ears. After a half dozen visitations, he seemed to be hitting a wall, and Trudy rose up from her seat enough to see what he was doing.

  He stood in a pool of light on stage, dark head bent, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides, his hands fisted. The room was deathly quiet as everyone waited for him to continue.

  Nell whispered, “Something bad is happening. Sad news for someone.”

  Levi lifted his head and stared straight ahead, then he drew a chest-lifting breath and focused on the woman who had given him a photograph to hold. He gave it back to her. “Could you see me afterward? I have a private message for you.”

  The woman nodded and went back to her seat.

  He resumed the readings, doing several more, even arguing with one woman heatedly when she said she didn’t have a grandmother named May, who had come forward from the spirit world, along with the relative she’d wanted Levi to call forth. Finally, she realized it was a step-grandmother she’d heard about, but had never met.

  Trudy shook her head. Arguing with Levi about the accuracy of his visions was an exercise in futility. She’d learned that early on.

  “Thank you, everyone,” he said, cutting into her thoughts. “You’ve wiped me out, I’m afraid. But I will take a few questions before we wrap it up here.”

 
; Trudy leaned sideways to catch sight of him. Was it the spotlight that made his skin seem paler? Were those shadows or were the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced?

  “Are you working on a high profile case right now?” a woman a few rows back from the stage asked.

  “No. I’m taking a couple of months off to concentrate on my other businesses.”

  “Are you married?” a pretty blond in the front row asked.

  He gave her his panty-wetting, lopsided smile that made Trudy’s thighs press together. “No, I’m not.”

  That drew applause and hoots of delight. Trudy tried to shake off the stab of betrayal that sliced through her.

  He started to turn away from the blond, but then swung back to her, still grinning, and shrugged. “But I’m spoken for.” That was answered by a spattering of “awwws,” some sentimental, but mostly expressions of disappointment. He laughed and placed a hand over his heart. “Very spoken for.”

  A little bubble of joy broke in Trudy’s throat. Hot damn, she loved that man. She stood and edged past Nell and two other women to stand in the aisle, facing the stage.

  “This has been a pleasure and I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves and learned something about psychic connections,” Levi said, concluding the session. He looked at the woman he’d asked to meet him after the session. “Ruth, wasn’t it? If you’d be so kind as to meet me in the room next door, I’d like to speak to you privately for just a few minutes.” His gaze swept the audience. “Thank you, everyone, and enjoy the confer—ence.” The moment his gaze found Trudy, his voice broke. He blinked slowly, swallowed, and smiled the smile he reserved for her – a little vulnerable and a lot sexy. “See you soon.”

  She smiled back, touched the disk hanging from her necklace, and mouthed, “But not soon enough.”

  ###

  Sitting on the floor in front of Levi’s hotel room, Trudy rocked her engagement ring back and forth on her finger and watched the overhead lights spark off it. She glanced at her watch. Only thirty minutes had passed, but it seemed like an hour or more. Shifting the strap of her overnight bag more snugly onto her shoulder, she stopped breathing for a few seconds when she heard the sound of approaching soft footfalls. She pushed up to her feet just as Levi rounded the corner. A grin spread across his face when he saw her and his stride became a jog. In the next instant, she was wrapped in his arms, lifted off her feet, and spun in a circle. His mouth scorched hers in a swift, hard kiss.