by Deborah Camp
“‘Has he given you any trouble like this before?’” Levi said, his voice flat, expressionless. Tears suddenly pooled in his blue eyes.
Trudy’s heart cracked open. She willed herself to be a pillar for him to lean on, to grab onto if necessary. She could tell that he was back there in that tiny room where his child’s world had crumbled to dust, so she kept quiet, allowing him to bring forth the words he had buried deep, so very deep in his soul where they had festered into self-loathing and self-doubt.
Levi brought his hand up, rubbing his knuckles against his lips as his gaze darted side to side in a frantic, harried pattern. He blinked rapidly, wetting his lashes, and his breathing picked up. He stood, swaying a little, and ran both hands through his hair. Trudy realized she’d fisted her own hands and her fingernails dug into her palms. She ached to hold him, to console him, but she knew she shouldn’t touch him. Not when he’d been swallowed by his most heinous memory.
“He looked right at me and I . . . I could see the hatred in his eyes,” he said, saturated in the recollection, lost to it. “He said, ‘He’s been nothing but trouble. You can’t believe a word he says.’” A bitter, caustic laugh rumbled from him. “And then he said, ‘He had more to do with that little girl’s murder than he’s letting on.’”
Trudy shut her eyes and bit down on her lip again, tasting blood. Oh, how she’d love to slap John Comfort’s face and then knee him hard in his balls. If he had any balls.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it, Trudy. I swear, I didn’t.”
She opened her eyes, shocked by his softly whispered declaration. His eyes shone with tears and her heart broke for him. “Of course, you didn’t! Levi! I know you didn’t! You were a child. An innocent child. You did the right thing, the noble thing by going to the police. They should have thanked you. Your father should have been proud of you!” She stared at him, witnessing the guilt lurking in his eyes. She stood and gripped his hands, giving them a little shake.
“I wondered after that . . . was there something bad in me that he could see?” he said, almost to himself as a tear tracked down his cheek and dropped from his chin. “And I’d be so full of anger and hatred . . . and I thought . . . maybe he’s right. I’m bad. He knew it and now I’m proving that he’s right.” He shook off her grip and covered his face with his hands as he dropped into the chair and swallowed a sob.
Trudy sank to her knees in front of him, resting her hands on his thighs. “No, Levi. No! You’re good. You’re an honorable, compassionate, passionate, caring, generous, beautiful man!”
He smiled sadly at her and shook his head. Leaning back in the chair, he scrubbed his face roughly with his palms. “He took me home and told my mother to pack my things.” He spoke quickly as if a dam inside had broken, allowing the words and memories to spill forth, past the walls he’d built inside himself. “A woman came the next day to collect me. It was my ninth birthday.”
Trudy lost the fight and tears spilled onto her cheeks. Heartless bastard! And where was his mother? How could she allow this? Spineless excuse for a woman!
“We boarded a bus. I didn’t know her, but I could tell she didn’t like me. She gave me a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, but I’d been crying and I couldn’t eat, so she ate it. When we got off the bus, the woman handed me over to a man with a beard. He put me in his pickup and drove me to a farm. It was a place run by some religious zealots. A place for wayward, delinquent children. I never went home again . . . until Mother was dying, but it was too late then. I didn’t want to be home. It was all ruined. All of it. My childhood. My home life. Everything normal. Everything that meant anything. All gone. And everyone thought I’d been sent away because I’d done something to Becky Landers. Something despicable, disgusting. Something bad.” He shook his head, eyes shut, pain etched on his face. “Damn it!” Shooting up from the chair again, he sidestepped her and strode to the kitchen, then whirled about, driving his fingers through his hair over and over again.
“Levi . . . please, it’s okay.” What should she do? How could she console him? “I hate what happened to you. I want to scream at the injustice of it all.” She scrambled to her feet. “Should you call Dr. McLain? Would that help?”
He stared at her for a few moments before a wry smile touched his lovely mouth. “No. I think it’s too late for that. She’ll be pissed to have missed this though. God knows, she’s tried to get me to this point before, but . . .” He shrugged, glancing around at the kitchen and living area. “Funny, I always thought that if I had any kind of breakthrough, it would be in Dr. McLain’s office. I never imagined it happening in the tin can.”
Trudy laughed, ruefully, but then sobered when his words circled back on her. “A breakthrough? That’s what this is?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes widening with seriousness. “I’ve talked to Dr. McLain about my father and being sent away, but I . . . I didn’t remember his words. His damnation.” He turned away from her as if he didn’t want her to see his emotional reaction to the memory. “I buried that.” He chuckled under his breath. “I can’t begin to tell you how fucked up I feel right now.”
She rested her hand against his back and stroked him. “Levi.”
He reached behind him, finding her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “The psychologist in me is cheering and fist-pumping and the patient in me is rolled up in a ball, shaking and keening.” He looked back at her and a bewildered grin claimed his lips. He swiped at the moisture on his cheeks before facing her again. “I can’t say that it feels good having the bandage stripped away from the open wound, but at least maybe it will heal a little bit now.”
“We’ll help each other heal.”
“What wounds do you have, baby?”
She stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his. “I’m not the most self-confident person on the planet.”
He smiled against her mouth. “The girl who can’t take a compliment.” Smoothing a hand over her hair, he held her gaze. “I think I’ll go for a walk. I need to be alone to sort through all of this . . . emotional flotsam.”
She frowned, but made herself step back from him. “Okay. I understand.”
“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be okay, Tru. I just need some time.”
Nodding, she managed to smile. “Take your cellphone.”
“Yes, I will.” He grabbed it off the counter and shoved it into his jeans pocket. “If you need me, call or text me. I won’t be gone long.”
“And put on your jacket or coat. It’s nippy outside.”
He smiled, shaking his head a little at her, but he went into the bedroom for his black leather jacket.
“That’s better,” she said, approvingly when he put it on. She grabbed either side of it and pulled him close for a quick kiss. “Take good care of yourself, Wolfe. You belong to me.”
“I do,” he agreed without hesitation. “Body and soul.”
Chapter 16
Startled awake, Trudy blinked rapidly, her mind scrambling to determine what had shaken her from sleep. She was lying on her back with Levi draped half on and half off of her. In the gray light of an early dawn, she could see that he was still fast asleep, his lips slightly parted, his handsome face in smooth repose, making him look younger . . . almost boyish. She imagined him as a boy . . . a frightened boy, and her heart melted.
He’d returned to the RV after a couple of hours, wrung out, physically and mentally. He’d taken a shower. They’d shared a meal. And then he’d spent hours on the phone with Dr. McLain, Darla, Gonzo, and several other employees. Once again, she was struck by his work ethic and that her schedule was playing havoc with his.
She’d been unable to concentrate on anything, her mind going over and over again what she’d come to know about the complex Mister Moody Blues.
They’d tiptoed around each other, not discussing what had transpired earlier. It seemed that enough had been said for now. It wasn’t until Trudy had gone to bed that she remembered that she had
n’t sent the FBI or the sheriff’s department a report on her latest information about Rachel’s kidnapper. She made a mental note to do it first thing in the morning.
She inched her head back a little so that she could see Levi’s face better. It wasn’t only his handsome face and lean, muscular body that had enthralled her from the moment she’d met him. She’d sensed the sadness in him. For all his arrogance and swagger, he was broken inside and she’d known it instantly. She’d recognized it in him because she had her own shattered places – most of which his faith in her and patient tutoring had all but healed.
Of course, she hadn’t understood the depth of his pain until she’d become entangled with him, physically and emotionally. Even then she didn’t know how deep his pain ran. Now she knew. There were pockets in his heart and soul that no one had been allowed into. He’d let her see some of those dark places a few hours ago when he’d told her about Becky Landers and his father’s unforgiveable betrayal. There were still raw places in him that he might never reveal. Levi had become a virtual wizard at erecting shields and building high walls around his most vulnerable places. But she had hope. She clung to hope just as she clung to him – skin against skin, his breath mingling with hers.
A soft bump and swishing noise outside the RV made her twitch all over. Levi emitted a grunt of protest and Mouse barked, raising an alarm.
“Levi!” Trudy whispered, gripping his shoulder and giving him a shake. “Someone is messing with the RV!”
He stirred and raised his head, looking around the bedroom. “Where?”
“Outside. I heard someone out there. Someone or something bumped against the side of it just now.”
He shoved off the covers and sat up, combing his hair back off his forehead with one hand as he reached for his jeans that were lying across the chair beside the bed. “I’ll check it out.”
“Be careful! You want me to come with you?” She sat up, the sheet slipping down her emerald green, silk nightie.
“You stay put.” He stood, hiking his jeans up over his hips and zipping them. He was going commando and barefooted.
Trudy watched as he strode from the bedroom. She heard him unlock the front door and then felt the RV shift as he went down the steps. Straining to hear the slightest sound, she even stopped breathing, but could hear nothing except her own galloping heartbeat and Mouse’s growls and occasional yip. Unable to stand it, she threw off the bed covers and jammed her feet into her fuzzy, white slippers. Padding to the living room, she lifted a slant in the blinds to peer out, but couldn’t see anything. She went to the other side of the RV and did the same thing, but it was even darker on that side and she could see nothing amiss.
She was headed for the door when it opened and she pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from shrieking. Only then did she realize that she was a ball of nerves. Levi stepped inside, giving her a quizzical look.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes!” she answered, too quickly, her voice unnaturally high. “Did you see anyone?”
“No, they’ve high-tailed it.” He went toward the bedroom. “But they left their calling card.”
“Huh?” She followed him. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his socks and Nikes. “What do you mean?”
He stood up and rested his hands on top of her shoulders. His expression was solemn as if he were preparing to deliver distressing news. “It was probably some liquored up teenagers.”
Dread wormed its way up her spine. “What did they do?”
“They spray-painted words on the RV.”
“Crap!” She started to whirl away from him, wanting to see for herself, but he tightened his hold on her shoulders.
“Put something else on first, Tru.”
She looked down at her short, revealing nightie. “Oh. Right.”
He shoved his arms and head into a black pullover hoodie as he went back outside, leaving her to whip off the nightie and dress in jeans, sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She glanced at the microwave clock as she went past it – six-thirty-eight. Joining Levi outside in the pre-dawn light, she stared dumbfounded at the huge black and red Satanic pentagram painted on the side of the RV between the driver’s door and living room windows and the ugly black words painted all across the side of it – Devil’s Whore. Go Back To Hell, Slut!
She was appalled when she felt tears sting her eyes. “Creeps,” she grumbled, reaching out to touch a dripping t. “It’s still wet.”
“Which is good. I should be able to wash off most of it.” He jogged to the back of Tony’s garage where a hose was coiled. He turned on the water spigot. After adjusting the hose’s nozzle, he directed the water at the painted words and they began to blur into each other. Red and black rivulets snaked down the white fiberglass and metal.
Trudy moved out of the way, going around to the other side to find even more sprawled insults that she hadn’t even noticed when she’d raced out of the RV. 666 Serpents! Brood of vipers! Matthew 23:33. Did teenagers do this? she wondered. Would they quote Bible verse? She felt the stamp of maturity on this message and it made her more uneasy that adults would stoop to this kind of vigilantism. She immediately thought of the man at the prayer vigile that Levi had hammered for calling her a vile name.
She was still staring at the ugly message when Levi came around to her side and aimed water at it.
“Teens always get the blame for stuff like this,” she said, standing on tiptoe to speak close to Levi’s ear so that he could hear her above the racket. “I think adults might be the vandals.”
Levi shrugged one shoulder. “It’s juvenile, no matter who did it.”
“Were you able to wash it all off?”
He shook his head. “Mostly, but it left a stain and you can still read some of it.” He twisted the nozzle, shutting off the water. “I’ll have it taken care of. Don’t worry about it, baby.”
“It’s certainly getting uglier and uglier around here,” she murmured, struggling against that old feeling of being an outsider, a freak of nature.
A car door slammed and the sound of someone jogging in their direction caused Levi to drop the water hose and step in front of Trudy, blocking her with his body. She laid her hands against his back and placed a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, grateful for and deeply touched by his protectiveness. Frank Henderson swung into view, stopping in his tracks when he spotted them.
“What’s happened?” he asked just as he noticed the outline of the graffiti still visible on the RV. “Oh. Did you catch them in the act?”
“No.” Levi bent down and retrieved the water hose. “And I’ve washed off what I can. Check with Tony to see if he has anything to take off the rest of it.”
“Will do, boss,” Henderson said, his jaw firming. “I’ll see if I can find out who did it.”
“Don’t waste your time on that,” Levi said. “It’s not important.” He rested a hand on top of Trudy’s mussed hair and gave her a gentle smile. “Just keep my girl safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
Trudy’s gaze locked with Levi’s and her heart brimmed with love for him.
“I’m going to put this hose back where I found it and have a word with Henderson,” he said. “Will you put a pot of coffee on for us?”
She nodded. “You got it.” She looked at Henderson. “Don’t go anywhere, Frank. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“No, that’s—.”
Trudy pointed her finger at him. “Hey! Don’t argue with the cook or she’ll burn your toast.”
Levi chuckled and Frank lifted his hands in surrender.
###
Arriving at Comfort Ministries four hours later, Trudy was in much better spirits. Having put the earlier vandalism behind her by sharing a congenial breakfast with Levi and Frank, she was ready to face the day and anything else it might have in store for her. After being called a slut and a whore, it couldn’t get much worse.
Having submitted her report about her latest psychic connections with
Rachel and her kidnapper, she halfway expected FBI agents to greet her at the door to escort her to the sheriff’s office for another “consultation.” But they weren’t there, so she said stood at the receptionist’s desk and waited for her to track down AmyLynn. Mrs. Shulter was none too happy with her, Trudy thought with a smirk. The woman had made a sour face when Trudy had approached her. Before yesterday, she’d smiled sweetly, if insincerely, at Trudy whenever she entered the building. But that was before Levi had blown past her like a tornado bent on destruction.
She’d left Levi at the RV with Mouse. She didn’t want him anywhere near the ministry building and he seemed to be in agreement. He said he was going for a run and then taking a Skype meeting with a couple of architects on his payroll.
No mention had been made of the emotional rollercoaster they’d ridden yesterday. Trudy knew he’d talk to her about it when he was ready – after he’d sorted it all out for himself.
“Mrs. Comfort said you can go to her office.” Paula Shulter glared at her. “Do you know the way?”
“I do. Thank you, Mrs. Shulter.” As she made her way to the office, she rehearsed what she’d say to AmyLynn. Should she tell her that Rachel could be a sensitive or should she leave well enough alone for now? AmyLynn was waiting in her office’s doorway and she was jittering with barely suppressed excitement. “What’s happened?” Trudy asked, thinking that the FBI must have already acted on her information. So fast! She’d only e-mailed them an hour ago.
“The FBI called us,” AmyLynn said, grabbing Trudy’s arm and hauling her into the office. “They’re onto something!”
Trudy sat on the sofa with AmyLynn. “I was hoping they would—.”
“They’re heading for Texas right this minute.”
Trudy blinked, confused. “Texas?”
AmyLynn nodded so vigorously that the platinum curls piled on top of her head rocked back and forth. “Where my ex lives.”