Through His Eyes (Mind's Eye Book 1)

by Deborah Camp

  “She’s with someone, but not him. A woman. They’re laughing as they come inside. The woman says it’s a nice place. Shelly says it’s cheap. She’s lived here a couple of years now.”

  Trudy looked at the front door and could almost see two women crossing the living room, laughing, smiling, a little tipsy, a little naughty.

  He closed his eyes and gathered in a deep, calming breath. “They’re going to have another drink.” He opened his eyes and they were dark and swimming with someone else’s memories. Reaching out, he ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of the two-tiered table where the liquor was kept. With a jerk, he looked past Trudy to the kitchen. She realized he was about to move and might just mow her over if she didn’t get out of his way. She was right. He headed for the kitchen and his shoulder bumped into her hard, sending her stumbling back. She toppled into an upholstered armchair. He never gave her a glance. She was invisible to him.

  Transfixed and fascinated, Trudy drew in a sharp breath. She’d never seen anyone work this way. Some of the Roundtable crew had appeared to take on the personae of spirits or commune with them, but she’d never been sure they were actually in a trance or simply wanted to be in one.

  With Levi, she didn’t have any doubt that he was living and breathing with someone who was no longer flesh and blood. It was thrilling to watch – thrilling and chilling. Would he experience the actual murder . . . the death?

  Scrambling from the chair at that thought, Trudy joined him in the bedroom. He stopped and she almost ran into him. He whirled. She skittered back, hurriedly getting out of his way. He returned to the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator. He tipped his head to one side as if he were listening.

  He massaged his temples, his long, blunt-ended fingers making slow circles. The silver ring on his middle finger threw out meager sparks.

  “The other woman wants to use the restroom,” he whispered. “Shelly tells her to go ahead while she heats up some egg rolls in the microwave.” He leaned his forehead against the refrigerator door. “I can’t see her. Shelly won’t look at her. Come on. Please.” He rocked his head back and forth in abject misery. “The woman is in the bathroom now.”

  Gripping the edge of the counter, Trudy tried to follow his process. She looked toward the bathroom and crossed to it quickly. There wasn’t much to see. It was a small, cramped space. The tub was shallow and wouldn’t be comfortable. A screen-printed ocean scene on the shower curtain provided a splash of color to the white walls and white tiled floor. All of the fixtures were old, but clean. The fingerprinting team had been in there, too.

  When Trudy joined Levi in the kitchen again, she found that he hadn’t moved. His eyes were closed, but his lids twitched and his sooty lashes lifted slightly and then dusted his cheeks again.

  “She likes the woman. I’m not sure she knows her all that well. Shelly is wondering what the hell she’s doing in the bathroom. Did she fall in? She’s laughing at that.” He straightened, opened his eyes, and shrugged.

  Leaning sideways to get a better look at him, Trudy noted that his eyes were still unfocused and his pupils were large, almost covering up the blue of his irises.

  He drew in a breath and his eyes widened. But then in the next second he was retreating, holding his hands out, shaking his head as he back-pedaled into the living room.

  “What the hell is this?” He sounded scared, his voice containing a tremor. “How did you get in here? Get out, damn it! Get out. Where is—? Oh, Jesus.” He doubled over and moaned, low and guttural, as he sank to his knees, just missing a jagged piece of glass. He clutched at the table and the liquor bottles clinked against each other. Then he flung his head back as if his hair was gripped by someone and jerked hard. He stared at the ceiling and stark fear stamped his features.

  Trudy glanced away, unable to witness that raw emotion on his face. When he made a guttural sound, she moved hesitantly toward him, but his warning rang in her ears. She was supposed to just watch. But, oh, she didn’t like witnessing the fear twisting his handsome face or hear the pain in his low moans and short, sharp breaths.

  Suddenly, his hands came up and he gripped the sides of his head and bared his teeth. “No, no!” His eyes popped open, wild and wide. He looked around, saw Trudy, and released a long breath. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he whispered, and she knew he was talking to her, consoling her, and she found it infinitely touching that he would think of her emotional state when he had been gripped by searing mental pain only seconds ago.

  Thank God. He was back.

  He staggered to his feet and stumbled to the couch. Sitting down, knees spread apart, elbows propped on them, he rested his head in his hands and his fingers ran over and over again through his inky hair. “Christ. Christ. Christ.”

  Her heart constricted as she watched this tortured son of a preacher. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her hands around his wrists to stop his restless, almost frantic movements. “Levi? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  His throat flexed as he swallowed and when he spoke again, his voice was roughened by emotion. “He cut her throat to shut her up, but not before he mutilated her breasts.”

  Trudy nodded, seeing the murder in her mind. “She had silicone implants,” she said. “He took them out and squirted the silicone all over her before he ejaculated on her. That had been his plan all along.”

  His head snapped up and his pupils focused on her with sharp intensity. There were dark circles under his eyes that she didn’t think had been there an hour ago. “How do you know that?” he asked. “Did you receive it just now?”

  “No.” She shook her head, confused. “When he killed her.”

  “You saw him kill Shelly?” His gaze grabbed hers. “You didn’t tell me that before. You acted like you didn’t know that he’d taken another victim when we showed you the newspaper.”

  She let go of his wrists and sat back on her heels. He was right. How did she know? Why was the murder so clear in her mind? It didn’t make sense. She stared at him, trying to find an answer. “I don’t understand how . . . when did he kill her? What time do they think?”

  “Between midnight and three or four in the morning.”

  “Could I have dreamed it? Did his thoughts come to me while I was asleep?”

  “Did you have a nightmare that night?”

  The memory of the night she had camped outside Jacksonville returned. “Yeah, I did,” she murmured as it came rushing back to her. “I woke up suddenly and I was drenched in sweat. I thought that I’d been talking in my sleep, having a nightmare. You know how you get that feeling? Mouse had heard me, I guess, because she was barking at me. I’d felt woozy and kind of sick to my stomach, so I took a shower and a couple of aspirin before I went back to bed. My God, he must have been in my head and that’s why I was feeling so out of it.”

  “And watching me just now brought it to the forefront of your mind.” He sat back on the couch, arms akimbo, looking bone-weary. Turning his head, he stared at the collection of frog figurines. He brushed his fingertips over the top of one and then pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned.

  “Goddamn it!”

  “What?”

  His eyes widened as he sprang to his feet, swaying slightly before he found his center. “Zelda.”

  “Zelda?” she asked, glancing around, her heart kicking into overdrive. “What about Zelda?”

  “She was here.” Holding out his hands to her, he helped her to her feet. “Zelda admired those frogs.” He nodded to them. “I sensed her. Felt her. I know she was here.”

  “When?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut as if scouring his mind for the memory. “The night of the murder.”

  Realization hit her hard. “Oh, my God! She was the other woman?”

  He let go of her hands as he looked down at the floor, his gaze unfocused as he thought back to what he’d been shown by Shelly. “I didn’t feel the woman anymore after she went into the bathroom. I never could see her very
well. I tried, but Shelly was always looking the other way.”

  “So, if Zelda was in the bathroom, she must have witnessed . . .”

  “Or maybe she knew the man who was waiting there.” He spun away from her and paced, clearly exasperated. “Oh, fuck! I hate this. I hate when I can’t grasp what’s important, what’s needed.”

  “Why don’t you ask Gregory?” It was out before she could stop it and she winced when she realized that in his fevered, overwrought state he had taken it wrong.

  His gaze was as sharp as the kiss of a whip. She actually felt it and sucked in a breath. “Don’t!” That one word landed on her like a blow. He took one stride and was flush up against her, his fingers closing around her upper arms. She had to tip back her head to look at his face. “I’m only going to tell you this once and that’s it. You understand me?” There was a low, pulsating tremor in his voice. “Don’t make fun of me – of what I do. Of how I work. Do you understand?”

  “I wasn’t—.”

  His grip on her arms tightened. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and he let her go, but he didn’t move away.

  “And don’t lie to me. I’m not a stupid boy. I can tell when you’re placating me, cajoling me, jerking me off.” He closed his eyes for a few heartbeats and when he opened them again the blazing anger was gone, but the intensity wasn’t. “I trusted you to be here with me. You were laughing at me. You think Gregory is a pile of shit and you just threw it in my face.”

  “No, I didn’t. You took it all wrong.” Her mouth had gone dry. Her heartbeats were loud in her ears, almost deafening. She brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips and ran the tip of her tongue over her parched lips. His eyes smoldered.

  “And don’t touch me unless you’re ready to be touched back.”

  All those times when she had faced a dare and turned away from it bombarded her and she smiled thinly at him, accepting his challenge again. She wouldn’t back down.

  She curled her fingers around his hand and saw surprise flicker across his face. “I wasn’t making fun of you, Levi,” she said, proud that she didn’t sound as shaky as she felt inside. “I was actually being sincere. You misunderstood me.”

  He looked down at their joined hands and squeezed hers. “I overreacted. I do that sometimes – especially when I think I’m being mocked. As you can imagine, that’s happened to me a lot and I made up my mind a few years ago that I wasn’t going to stand for it any more.”

  She could barely breathe. She could barely think. She nodded.

  “Gregory isn’t here,” he said, softly as he looked into her eyes. “He only comes to me when I need him and I need him less and less these days.”

  “Oh.” That’s all she could manage.

  “Let’s go.” He released her hand and stepped back from her. “My brain is fried, I’m spent, and we’re done here.”

  Chapter Six

  Back at the B&B, Trudy walked behind Levi down the hall to his room. He had said not one word to her during the drive back. They’d even stopped at the RV park so that she could let Mouse out for a scamper and Levi had remained slumped in the car seat. He’d leaned the side of his face against the window and watched her and Mouse, a slight smile flickering across his mouth every so often when she caught his gaze. Back in the car, she noticed that he actually nodded off until she’d steered the car into the B&B’s parking lot.

  “We’re here,” she’d announced, parking the car.

  “Hmmm?” He’d opened his eyes and yawned. “I feel better.” Glancing at her, he’d shrugged and then had given a jerk of his head. “Come inside.”

  Scowling at his back as they neared his room, a plan formed in her mind. She suspected he intended on getting her naked and this time she’d take the risk, accept the dare, and play the game the way he played it. Just sex. No feelings. No emotional ties. Because he was right. She was attracted to him – obsessively attracted. She wanted this, so why not take what he offered? If she kept her wits about her, she could guard her heart and not allow him to shatter it.

  He removed the card key from his back pocket and shoved it into the slot. Green lights flickered across it and he opened the door. He paused to glance at her, then stood back to allow her to enter first.

  She had a brief glance of a round table and chairs off to her left and a large bed straight in front of her before she found herself pressed against the closed door and confronted with a pair of cobalt eyes. His hands clasped her shoulders, pinning her in place.

  “Yes, I can see you’re feeling much better,” she noted, smiling.

  “After something that intense, it sometimes takes me a little while to clear my head of the images,” he said, staring at her lips. “You can understand that, right?”

  She nodded. Oh, yes. She knew all about disturbing scenes that played over and over in her head until she thought she might go crazy if she couldn’t stop them. His hands moved up to frame her face and he brushed his thumbs gently beneath her eyes. His eyes asked her one big question: are you staying? She nodded again, this time answering his silent query.

  A sigh escaped his parted lips before he pressed them to hers, softly, beseechingly. “Thank you,” he murmured against her mouth as he grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it up and over her head.

  She was spun around, lifted, and placed on the bed, all so swiftly and precisely that it made her dizzy for a few moments. Propping herself on her stiff arms, she watched as he removed her shoes and then he shrugged out of his vest. He smiled at her, shaking his head a little as if he couldn’t believe his good luck. He reached over his shoulder, grabbed a handful of t-shirt, and peeled the garment off, mussing his hair as it cleared his head.

  Muscles rippled in his arms and chest and she was instantly aroused at the sight of him. She squirmed and her fingers gathered in fistfuls of the duvet. Black hair dusted his pectorals and then arrowed in a straight line down the center of him, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. Good Lord, he was freaking gorgeous, she thought, not even trying to disguise her erotic delight.

  After kicking off his shoes and yanking off his socks, he unbuckled his belt as a slow smile teased his lips. He placed a knee on the mattress beside her and leaned into her, making her fall back onto the bed. His mouth took hers in complete domination, his tongue swirling and caressing until she moaned and drove her fingers through his hair. She arched against him and felt his arousal straining against his fly. Moving her hands down his waist, she telegraphed her intent and he shifted to one side so that she could get her fingers around the buttons on his fly and yank them open, one by one. He groaned appreciatively and kissed her neck and shoulders and throat.

  Reaching into the opening, she curved her hand around his erection and smiled when he sucked in a noisy breath. He pulled down her bra cup and latched onto her nipple, sending her arching up again as desire shot through her like white lightning. The man knew how to work a nipple, she thought, incoherently, closing her eyes and relishing the hot sizzle of his mouth and the flicking of his tongue. He slipped a hand beneath her and lifted her up so that he could deftly unhook her bra. It fell away and his mouth moved to her other breast, sucking and stroking, and sending her into mindless bliss.

  “You taste delicious,” he rasped, his tongue circling and then giving the hard nub a long, lavish sweep. “And you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, threading her fingers in his hair again and watching the inky strands caress them. His big hands cupped her breasts and kneaded them, stroked them. Could she orgasm just from him sucking and fondling her breasts?

  He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and she lifted her hips so that he could jerk them off her. Her panties were gone in a flash and she was naked, staring up at him as he stood by the bed and pushed his own jeans and briefs down his lean hips and muscled legs. He tossed them aside.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off his erection, bold as brass, hard as steel, just bobbing
there and winking at her. He was big.

  “You like?” he asked.

  Her gaze traveled from his impressive cock to his cocky grin. “I like.”

  He held out his hands to her and pulled her up off the bed. Reaching behind her, he grabbed a corner of the duvet and pulled it and the shammed pillows off to reveal an expanse of cream-colored sheets. “It likes you, too.” He molded his body against hers, flesh to flesh. His chest hair teased her hard nipples and his cock was hot against her belly.

  His mouth swooped to hers again and their tongues tangled as he hugged her around the waist and lifted her back onto the bed. He stretched out on top of her and Trudy gloried in the feel of him – the ripple of muscles in his back as she stroked him, and the touch of his hands moving restlessly over her as if he wanted to chart her every curve.

  She’d never been kissed with such authority or in so many different ways. His mouth was a sex organ all on its own, plucking and tasting, sucking and stroking, caressing and ravaging. Just from matching him kiss for kiss, she felt herself go from damp to wet. He felt it, too, because his hand moved down and he slipped a long finger into her folds.

  “Ummm,” he growled, appreciatively. “You’re ready for me.”

  She wasn’t at all sure she was, but she was certainly ready to give it a try. He inserted two fingers inside her and made slow, lazy circles. Then a third. Trudy shoved her head back into the mattress as intense feelings corkscrewed in her belly and spread down her thighs until she was all atremble. His fingers thrust in and out of her.

  “Feel good?” he asked between sipping kisses across her breasts.