by Deborah Camp
Grabs the sack and starts to walk out of the store, but he sees it. A big poster of Rachel – HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Will they ever quit looking for her? Can’t they get on with their lives and leave well enough alone?
“Are you coming or going?” a woman asks, staring at him.
Blinking. Not moving. Blocking the door. “Going.” The lowering afternoon sunlight strikes his eyes, making him wince. . .
Trudy blinked several times as the world dimmed before springing back. She was in a different place now . . . oh. She was her again. In the RV. “Levi.”
“Here, baby.” He slid one, large hand over both of hers that were clasped in her lap. “Take a deep breath. Clear your mind.”
The man’s presence faded from her memory, but his words still vibrated within her. “He drives a dark – maybe black Ford pickup. I couldn’t tell how old it is, but it didn’t seem ancient. He was driving on a dirt road and turned onto a blacktop. He stopped at a Stop and Shop and bought Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. Not for him. For her. His mother.”
“Good girl. That’s a lot.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” His eyes widened a little. “You’re zeroing in on him.”
“I didn’t see Rachel, except in a poster. There’s a big poster of her in that store. He wishes people would mind their own business and leave well enough alone.”
Levi’s lips quirked. “I bet he does. Crazy bastard.” He squeezed her hands. “She’s alive, Trudy.”
“Yes.” She breathed out a long sigh. “She is. He doesn’t seem fond of her. It’s like . . . he disapproves of her. He was nice to her before . . . sort of nice, but he’s aggravated now. I think he didn’t realize that it would be so difficult. And he evidently has a lot of stuff going on. He was complaining about that.”
“Yeah, well, kidnapping little girls does take up a lot of a guy’s time, I suppose,” Levi commented, dryly. “You need to send an e-mail to the FBI about the truck and the Stop and Shop where there’s a poster of Rachel. That will help them narrow their search.”
“A black Ford pickup? There must be thousands around here.”
“Yes, but it still narrows the search. Every bit of information helps. You know this. Don’t get discouraged, Trudy. You’re that girl’s best hope. Don’t get discouraged.”
###
By nine o’clock, fifty or more people milled around in the park across the street from Comfort Ministries. They had gathered around the flagpole where the flag had flown at half-mast since Rachel went missing. A single floodlight staked in the ground illuminated it. Levi gripped Trudy’s hand and guided her closer to the gathering. A girl ran up to them and extended two candles.
“Here you go,” she said, smiling shyly as Levi and Trudy took the tapers from her. “You got a lighter or match?”
“I’m afraid we don’t,” Levi said.
“Okay. Here you go.” She gave him a book of matches. “When they say for you to, you can light them and hold them up high so they can be seen by the angels in heaven.”
Trudy smiled at her. “Thank you.” She turned toward Levi as the girl skipped away. He was studying the matchbook. He held it up for her to see.
“While I am in the world, I am the light of the world,” she read off the cover. “John, chapter nine, verse five.”
“Makes one wonder if this is about Jesus or John – Reverend John.”
Trudy poked her elbow in his rib. “Be nice.”
“Being nice is overrated.” He put the matchbook in his coat pocket and took her hand again.
His profile against the starry sky arrested her. Staring at him, Trudy marveled how he could be so mesmerizingly hot every minute of the day and night. Or maybe it was that he was sexy all the time to her. No. She’d seen too many women’s admiring glances – and outright stares – at him to believe that. Dressed in jeans, a gray sweater, black pea coat, and biker boots, he looked a little dangerous to her. Deliciously dangerous. He must have felt her looking at him because his eyes slid sideways to find her.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head, smiling, tearing her gaze away from him.
“What?” he repeated.
“You’re pretty.”
“Oh, Christ,” he grumbled, but his lips twitched as he smothered a smile. “You’re the pretty one.” He stepped in front of her and his gaze meandered up and down her body.
She looked down at herself. Nothing that interesting here, she thought. Ankle boots, jeans, white sweater, short blue wool jacket. He jerked her to him and her body bumped against his. His chuckle was lusty as he nuzzled her hair.
“Hey!” She glanced around, nervously, and noticed that a few people were staring and frowning at them. “Behave, Levi, and get serious. Oh, look.” She leaned sideways to see past him. “There are the Comforts. Sam’s there . . . but I don’t see Michael Poe.”
Levi turned slowly to face the stage. John held a megaphone. His white hair gleamed against the velvety night. AmyLynn, dressed in a pink coat-dress and pink heels, stood beside him, looking sweet and forlorn. She smiled, but it was forced. John lifted the megaphone to his mouth.
“Thank you, good Christians, for coming out tonight for this prayer vigil. I feel, down in my soul, that your prayers this evening will beseech the person who has our Rachel to let her come home to us. AmyLynn and I also want to thank Mrs. Hart and her son for organizing this vigil. We are blessed to have them as friends.”
“We love you, Reverend! We love you AmyLynn!” a man shouted near the front of the crowd, and a few others added a chorus of “Love you” and “Praise Jesus.”
John patted the air with his free hand, asking them to settle. “Thank you, friends. Thank you. Now let us light our candles, if you please.”
Levi produced the matchbook again and lit their candles, cupping one hand around each to protect the flame until it took to the wick. “Careful,” he told Trudy. “There’s just enough breeze to blow it out.”
She held the candle near her body to block the breath of the northern wind.
“Let us pray,” John intoned, then began praying in his attractive baritone; dulcet and soothing, each word perfectly enunciated.
Trudy bowed her head, sneaking a quick peek at Levi. His head was bowed, too, and his eyes were closed. How did it feel for him to listen to his father pray for the return of a child that was not of his loins when this same man had cast him out when he was a child? She couldn’t fathom the emotions that must be roiling inside of him. Although his exterior was calm, she knew that his shields were up, protecting his bruised heart and his tattered feelings.
In a moment of seething anger, she wanted to storm the stage, grab the megaphone, and shout to the crowd, “This man is heartless! He’s a monster in disguise!” She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and ground her teeth together, admonishing herself to pay attention to the prayer of homecoming and not on the man delivering it.
As the prayer continued, women began to sob and men began to mutter, “Praise God,” and “Holy, holy, holy.” Trudy slitted her eyes to see around her. People had raised their candles, so she lifted hers up, too.
“Levi, your candle,” she whispered to him.
He opened his eyes briefly and raised his candle. John finished the prayer with a strong “Amen,” which was answered in kind.
“Now AmyLynn will sing. Sing your baby home, my dearest.” John placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and dropped a kiss on her forehead, before stepping back from her.
Sing? She was expected to sing now? Trudy stared at AmyLynn, thinking how small and alone she looked standing on the stage. She smiled tenuously at the crowd and began to sing Amazing Grace in a clear, somewhat wavering soprano.
“I swear, I don’t know how she does it,” Trudy whispered.
“The show must go on,” Levi said. “Owww. Quit poking me.”
“Quit being a sarcastic snot.” Her arm was aching and she lowered her candle. “She’s in pain, Levi. Cut her some s
lack.”
He shrugged and hoisted his candle higher, then moved it side to side, making the flame dance dangerously. Trudy expected the flame to die at any moment, but it held on, and even seemed to burn brighter.
“Hey.” Out of nowhere Hannah emerged, stopping beside Levi. One of her chaperones stood on her other side, looking peeved. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I want Rachel to come home as much as anyone else,” Levi said, then nodded at the other woman. “Good evening, Mrs. Fuller.”
The woman bobbed her head, then focused obstinately on AmyLynn.
“Your mother is so brave,” Trudy said, smiling at Hannah.
Hannah glanced toward the stage and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Says you.”
“Hannah Lynn,” Mrs. Fuller scolded, turning her dark, damning gaze to the teen. “Don’t you speak to an adult like that. You’ve been taught better. Apologize.”
“It’s okay,” Trudy said, not needing or wanting an apology from the girl.
Mrs. Fuller opened her mouth to say something else, but Levi spoke first. “Where are your candles?”
“We didn’t get any,” Mrs. Fuller said, even though Levi had addressed Hannah. “Hannah had decided not to attend and then changed her mind all of a sudden. We just arrived.”
Trudy eyed Hannah, knowing full well that she’d decided to attend because she’d spotted Levi in the crowd. “Take mine,” Trudy said, holding her candle out to Mrs. Fuller.
“Yes,” Levi agreed. “Here you go. You should have this.” He offered his candle to Hannah and she took it, a small smile playing across her lips and bright color washing over her cheeks.
Reluctantly, Mrs. Fuller accepted Trudy’s candle. “Thank you,” she said, then returned her attention to the stage where AmyLynn sang the last notes of the heartfelt spiritual.
“Jesus, please guide my Rachel Lynn home to me,” AmyLynn said, gazing up at the starry sky. “I need my baby here. Here in my arms.” She tapped her fists against at the base of her throat, just above her heart. Tears streamed down her face, smearing her mascara.
Trudy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and swiped at her own tears. From the corner of her eye, she caught Levi’s smirk and it was all she could do not to poke him in the ribs again. He absolutely refused to admit that he found anything redeeming about AmyLynn and it infuriated her that he could be so unmoving, so unfair. After all, AmyLynn hadn’t done a thing to him. It was if he wanted to despise her.
“Thank you, thank you.” John had the megaphone again. “Praise God for this turnout. I know He hears our prayers. I know He loves us. And that’s all we need to know, my friends.”
“Praise Jesus!” a man shouted near Trudy, making her jump. He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh . . . praying,” Trudy said, edging away from him and closer to Levi and Hannah. She glanced up into Levi’s face and her blood chilled. He was looking at someone and gave a curt nod. Trudy followed his eye line and saw Frank Henderson and Charlie Gassaway moving toward them. “What are they doing here?”
“Crowd control,” Levi whispered, his arm circling her waist. “Time to go, Trudy.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Even as she questioned him, she caught sight of a woman scowling at her, pointing her out to two men who gave her the stink-eye.
“Mrs. Fuller, take Hannah back to the ministry. Now,” Levi ordered, softly, earnestly. He clamped his free hand on Hannah’s shoulder and turned her in the direction of the street. “Go on. Hurry.”
“Shouldn’t be here . . . blasphemy . . . the nerve . . . show her face here . . .sinful . . .” The words buzzed around Trudy as the crowd seem to close in.
Trudy tried to square her shoulders and stare boldly at the frowning strangers, but Levi pulled her into a walk as Charlie and Frank closed rank, book-ending them. They picked up their pace with Trudy having to almost jog to keep up with Levi’s ground-swallowing strides. She glanced back at the stage area once and saw that John and AmyLynn were stepping down, their own human walls blocking them from their adoring followers. She caught sight of Sam walking ahead of AmyLynn and elbowed people out of her way. Always the faithful servant.
Someone shoved up close to Trudy . . . so close she felt his hot breath on her cheek.
“That’s right! Run, you devil’s whore!” he shouted at her, and she flinched. The man’s heavy, ruddy face contorted into a mask of stark hatred that startled her, frightened her.
Levi ground to a sudden halt, making her stumble into him. She righted herself, his arm strong around her before slipping away. In a blur of reckoning that played out in eerie slow-motion before her dazed eyes, Trudy watched Levi step between her and her verbal accoster. He dipped his head slightly at the leering man in a strange acknowledgement and a sly, almost grateful, smile tugged at his mouth. Then he cocked his arm and drove his fist into the man’s face.
“Levi!” Trudy gasped.
“Mr. Wolfe!” Henderson gripped Levi by one shoulder, tugging hard to turn Levi away from the man, who sputtered and covered his bleeding nose with both big-knuckled hands.
For his part, Levi grinned. Grinned! Trudy stared at him and heard him chuckle softly as he shook out his battering hand as if he were loading it for another round.
“Come on!” Charlie stepped behind both of them and gave Levi and Trudy a hard push to get them moving through the crowd again, in the direction of Levi’s parked car.
A few shouts of outrage rose above the hum of the crowd. Trudy heard “heathens” and “defilers” thrown at them, but she kept her head down and hurried on. Levi grasped her hand and she sensed him glancing at her from time to time as if trying to read her expression and gauge her disposition.
Grateful beyond measure to finally reach the car and drop into the leather bucket seat, Trudy locked the door and closed her eyes. Her heart beat like a bass drum in her ears and made her eyes pulse in their sockets. She leaned her head back and concentrated on slowing her breathing and settling her pinging nerves. Levi took his place behind the wheel and started the car, not wasting any time pulling away from the curb and putting the park in the rearview mirror.
Quiet cocooned her and she heaved a long, labored sigh.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Levi snapped. “No one calls you a whore without suffering the consequences.”
She swung her gaze to him. “I didn’t ask for an apology. I was ready to deck him, too.” She recalled his sly grin. “You almost seemed glad that he’d given you a reason to hit him.”
He chuckled. “In a way, I was.” He gaze touched hers as he braked at a Stop sign. “You’re okay then?”
“Yes. It was just . . . unexpected. The crowd turned on us in a millisecond!”
“It happens like that sometimes, which is why I had Henderson and Gassaway there.”
“You’ve had experiences like that before?”
He nodded, his eyes large and serious. “I think that’s why I enjoy the psychic fairs and conferences. I’m among people who share my beliefs. Out here . . .” He made a sweeping gesture. “You never know who’s in your corner and who would like to draw and quarter you. Those people back there have been conditioned to despise us. They’ve listened to him preach against false gods, spiritualists, mediums, psychics, and seers. It’s one of his favorite themes – how the devil has our ear and we deliver his twisted, heinous messages to the fallen, the weak, and the gullible.”
“You’ve heard him preach these things?” she asked, curious as to how often Levi tuned in to his father’s TV show.
“Sure. I heard it ad infinitum as I grew up.”
“But you weren’t around him.”
“They played his tapes.”
“They?”
“The supervisors and ministers where I was schooled. It was part of my . . . treatment, for lack of a better word.” His face had paled, making his eyes seem larger and darker in the light of the dashboard.
“Did you ever think they might be right . . . that the devil might be whispering in your ear?”
“No.” His lips thinned into a straight line as he turned his head to look at her. “Have you?”
She tried to essay a careless shrug, but wasn’t convinced she’d pulled it off. “I thought I might be certifiable for a while. I mean, crazy people hear voices in their heads, right? They often think that demons have possessed them.”
“But deep down in your soul, you knew you weren’t crazy or possessed,” he admonished, gently.
“Maybe.” She let go of a quick, harsh sigh. “All I know is that when I met Quintara, I saw the light. I knew she offered me salvation – a way to live with this thing that I’d been fighting against all my life.”
He smiled at her. “I have to keep reminding myself that, in many ways, you’re still a novice at this.”
“That’s right, and you’re teaching me all kinds of things.” She gifted him with a slightly wicked grin.
He caught his breath. “Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”
She bit her lower lip, his question cinching around her heart. “I believe I do because you mean that much and more to me.”
They’d reached the RV and he parked the car and switched off the engine, but he continued to hold onto the steering wheel. He shook his head. “No. I have you beat on that score.”
Reaching across the space, she smoothed her fingers over the knuckles that had defended her honor. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I believe you’d carry on without me – given a little healing time. You told me as much. Do you remember?”
She smothered a wince. He was referring to an argument they’d had in Atlanta when she’d been angry at him for not admitting that he was in love with her. She’d told him that if they ended their relationship, she’d eventually move on and find someone else.
“I remember telling you that I’d never love like this again,” she said.
“I’ll never be the same without you, Trudy. I’ll never feel so alive . . . so normal without you in my life.”