by Deborah Camp
“Are you going to tell me?” she asked, pulling him back to the present.
“Yes, sorry. Well, Quintara had quite a few people calling her and dropping by her place wanting to know more about their own experiences and what they meant. She’s such a great teacher that I told her she should hold monthly or even weekly workshops for budding psychics and have a higher level for those with real promise.” He chuckled at the memory. “She came up with the Roundtable theme and I got her a couple of gigs on radio programs. I called in a favor from a newspaper reporter to do a feature on her. Within a few weeks, she had people crawling out of the woodwork, waving money in her face, wanting to attend her workshops or be allowed in the Roundtable.”
He finished off his drink as the waiter arrived with their huge platter of nachos.
“Would you like another, sir?”
Levi shook his head. The whiskey had done the trick. His head was clearer and his insane jealousy was under control. For now, at least. “I’ll have a glass of ice water with lemon, please.”
The waiter nodded. “Can I bring you another Diet Dr. Pepper, ma’am?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Nodding again, the waiter left to get their drinks
Trudy selected one of the cheesy nachos and popped it into her mouth. Levi took one off the mountain of them and munched it. Delicious.
“Anything else I can get you?” the waiter asked, returning with their beverages.
“No, thank you,” Levi said, grabbing another nacho.
“So, where did you meet Quintara?” Trudy asked.
“In Oklahoma City at a psychic fair and conference,” he said, wiping at his mouth and fingers with a napkin. “I was a speaker and I was also on a panel with her. She approached me later and informed me that I was extremely talented and that I was frittering away my gifts when I could be making money from them.” He grinned. “She said she had big plans for me.” He laughed, shaking his head as he pictured brassy, bawdy, bountiful Quintara – his truest, dearest friend. “I was intrigued. And I could tell she was absolutely serious. It had been a long time since anyone had shown any real interest in my psychic abilities. I couldn’t refuse her.”
“She’s hard to refuse,” Trudy agreed, helping herself to another nacho.
“She could see I was coasting through life. I was in my debauchery period.”
“Debauchery?”
Memories of those days sifted through him like old, dog-earned photos. Those were days he never wanted to return to. “I was living out of a suitcase, drinking way too much, and balling a different woman every night. Back then I was what you seem to think I am today. I stopped even asking the women’s names because I really didn’t give a fuck. I’d lost every shred of my self-esteem.”
“Was this after Lizzie?”
Lizzie? He met her curious, green gaze. She really was interested in Lizzie and he wondered why. His relationship with Lizzie was years ago . . . kid stuff, really. He ate another nacho before he answered. “Long after Lizzie. She had nothing to do with it. I dive-bombed all on my own.”
They ate in companionable silence for awhile as the nacho mountain gradually became a nacho bump. Trudy watched as a waiter, holding two ice cream cones, moved past their table and handed them to a couple seated near them. When he started back toward the restaurant’s entrance, she stopped him.
“What kind of ice cream is that?”
“Key lime sprinkled with graham cracker crumbs,” the waiter said.
Her eyes widened. “Yum!”
Levi chuckled. When she looked at him like that, he’d damn near give her anything she wanted. “We’ll have two of them.”
“They’re our specialty. You’ll love them,” the waiter assured them.
“What sort of plan did Quintara have for you?” Trudy folded her arms on the table and leaned closer, obviously enjoying the stories about how he and Quintara forged their friendship. The top of her dress gaped a little, giving him a nice view of her cleavage.
“She wanted me to hire a booking agent and appear on television shows and radio programs. She said I should work with police on murder cases.” He shrugged, grabbed one last gooey nacho, and moved the almost empty platter aside. “She told me I needed to be bigger than life, a real showman, and she helped me perfect my stage presence.”
Trudy’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Quintara is the one who encouraged you to become the Great and Mysterious Levi Wolfe? She shaped you into a splashy, showy, psychic extraordinaire?”
He examined her large, green eyes and slack mouth. “You didn’t know that she’s responsible for my public persona? Quintara never told you?” He tipped back his head and laughed up at the blue sky “That is rich! Quintara is the mad visionary who pieced together this Frankenstein monster that you so distain and she doesn’t tell you! Oh, yes, that is quintessential Quintara.”
Trudy scowled at him and jerked up her chin in that way that made him want to kiss her hard until she whimpered. “I don’t distain you, Levi. You must know that by now.”
Pleasure heated his blood and he recalled vividly the softness of her skin and how her body responded to his. Yes, he knew she liked him. She just didn’t like him enough to suit him. He wanted her to be as out of control over him as he was over her. And he meant to get her there, damn it.
“You still distain my showmanship,” he corrected with a smile. He hooked one arm over the back of the chair and watched as she finished off another nacho. He really, really wanted to feel her mouth on his cock. Soon. “I thought I’d changed your opinion of me, but now I wonder. You’re hot and cold. Loyal and disloyal.”
“Wait a second.” She held up a warning finger and her eyes threw sparks. “I am not disloyal.” She pointed her finger at him. “You are misinterpreting every move I make and making mountains out of molehills.”
“Oh, is that what I’m doing?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, tamping down his anger as he watched people passing by the café. “So, when I was holding your hand and you yanked it away so that you could shake Sinclair’s, I misinterpreted that move? And when I came out of the interrogation room and you were caressing his shoulder and looking at him with those big, moony, green eyes, I was making a mountain out of a molehill?”
“Yes. Exactly.” She drew in a deep breath and plunged on before he could speak. “I don’t want to see Tom anymore. Not like that. I liked that you were holding my hand, but I felt uncomfortable . . . and then it seemed that you might be making some kind of claim for Tom’s benefit. And I was only commiserating about this damned case with Tom when you came out of the room. I actually had been telling him what a fantastic psychic you are and he was telling me that you claimed that I belong to you.” She ran out of breath and had to stop.
His burst of anger dissipated. He crossed his arms on the table and met her level gaze. “You’re right. I held your hand because I wanted everyone to know that you were with me – Sinclair included. When you pulled away from me, it felt as if you’d slapped me.”
She closed her eyes for a few moments and he hoped to hell she regretted her actions. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
The waiter approached with their ice cream cones. “Enjoy,” he said with a smile.
Levi nodded at the waiter and tasted the ice cream. It was rich and he was glad there was only one scoop of it. Trudy’s tongue peeked out and she took a small lick of the frozen treat. She tasted it again, gathering more crumbs on her tongue this time. Levi’s cock roused up.
“Good?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.
“Ummm. Very.”
While she had her eyes on him, he decided to give her a little show. He licked his ice cream all the way around, making swirls in the pale green confection with the tip of his tongue. He grinned as her eyes darkened to the color of emeralds.
Deliberately and slowly, she took the dessert into her mouth until her lips touched the cone . . . all the way in and then all
the way out. Fuck! He hardened more and pressed against his fly as perspiration dotted his forehead.
“Do that again and I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he warned her.
She shrugged, the picture of innocence. “I’m just enjoying my ice cream.”
He glanced around at the crowded patio and then sent her a scolding look. “Enjoy it a little less, okay?”
“You’re fun to tease,” she said, grinning.
“And you’re a charming, little prick-teaser,” he rejoined.
They finished the ice cream cones in silence, glancing at each other, then at the people milling around them and seated near them. Trudy brushed her hands together and sighed.
“That was delicious.”
“I agree.” He popped the rest of the cone into his mouth with a flourish and then captured her hands, turning them over to stare intently at her palms. “I see success in your future.”
“Oh? Anything else?”
“Yes. Sex. Lots and lots of sex.”
She pulled free of him, giving him a little smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He folded his arms against his chest and settled back in the chair. Enough teasing. He wanted to get a few things straight with her. “Do you remember the first time we met at the Roundtable?”
She nodded.
“The moment I touched you – I knew I had to have you. You were wearing a green blouse and jeans that evening. Forest green.”
She swallowed and he saw the pulse in her throat flutter.
“I felt this . . . this magnetic pull as if you were my true north.” He placed a hand over his thumping heart and hoped to hell she appreciated his candidness because this wasn’t easy for him. He usually avoided conversations about feelings and emotions – except when he talked to his psychiatrist and then it was necessary. But Trudy was different. He wanted to work with her and he also wanted very much to fuck her again and again and again. After that first time with her, it had been abundantly clear to him that one time with Trudy wasn’t enough. In fact, she had taken over his fantasies, his dreams, and had become the only woman he wanted. He didn’t know how long he’d feel this way, but he needed for her to know that she was more than a booty call.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes grew luminous. He sat forward, resting his arms on the table, needing to be closer. “I couldn’t stay away. I had to fly in every month or so to get my Trudy fix.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t attend the Roundtable just to see me.”
“The hell I didn’t! Why else would I? I get nothing out of it. I was there for you.”
“You didn’t drop by every so often just to see Quintara?”
“No. I usually only visit the Roundtable once or twice year. Until you showed up.”
She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. “Why me?”
“I just told you. I felt an instant connection and I wanted to be with you . . . work with you. And now that I’ve been with you . . .” He glanced around at the other diners and lowered his voice. “I want you every which way and six times on Sunday.”
She swallowed with an audible gulp. “No man has ever spoken to me like you do.”
He shook his head, not buying it. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“I like it.” She sucked in a breath as if the admission surprised her.
Levi felt a grin overtake him. “Why do you like it?” he asked. “Tell me.”
“You make me feel . . . wanted . . . sexy.”
His cock strained against his fly and his chest tightened. “Baby, you are sex on legs.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but then her face froze and her eyes grew large. A glassy haze seemed to drift over them, changing their deep green to a light olive color. She sat straighter and her head turned slowly away from him until she was staring at the street.
“Trudy?”
Nothing. She didn’t acknowledge him in the least.
Levi closed his eyes. Shit. The crazy motherfucker had her again.
Feeling helpless, Levi glanced around at the other people on the patio, but no one seemed to notice the glassy-eyed girl sitting at his table, staring sightlessly at the street. Tentatively, he scooted his chair closer to hers and took her hands in his. This wasn’t the greatest place for her to be in a trance!
A barely discernible quiver danced through her limbs and he wanted desperately to enfold her in his arms and shelter her. But that wouldn’t help her through this. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to tune into her as he searched through his years of training, schooling, and his bag of tricks to find the right tools.
“Trudy?” he whispered, opening his eyes and leaning closer to her. He ran his thumbs over the back of her hands, appreciating her soft skin, wishing fervently that he could see what she was seeing. “Where are you, Trudy? Talk to me.”
“Walking to Mallory Square,” she said, her voice flat, like a robot’s.
Looking in that direction, Levi frowned. Naturally, he’s going to Mallory Square a couple of hours before sunset where it will be jam-packed with people. The area was a big, open space near the ocean, full of locals and tourists where a stalker could get lost and stare at women without drawing attention to himself. “Is he alone?”
“Alone, but not for long,” she whispered back to him. “Got my eye on someone.” She scanned the area in front of her, craning her neck, furrowing her brow. “Where the hell is she? Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come rub up against me so I can run a knife between your tits and watch you bleed out.”
Levi glanced around. A man and two women sat at the table nearest them and they were looking at them. He saw one of the women lean toward the man and say, “That’s Levi Wolfe!” Oh, Christ on a crutch. Catching sight of the waiter, Levi let go of Trudy’s hands and motioned for him to come over.
“Yes, sir?”
“How much is the bill?” Levi stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
“I’ll go print it—.”
“No, just tell me how much. We have to go.”
“Is there a problem?”
Impatience blew threw him like a hot wind. He looked at the young, pimply-faced waiter from beneath his lowered brows and shoved him with his mind. The waiter drew in a deep breath and blinked his hazel eyes. Got your attention now? Just do as I say! “Will this cover it and your tip?” He threw two twenties and a ten on the table.
“Yes, sir. Yes!”
“Fine.” Levi shoved his wallet into his back pocket and then shrugged into his jacket. Leaning down, he took Trudy’s hands into his again. “Stand up, Trudy. Stand!”
She moaned and shook her head.
He pulled her up to her feet. She swayed and he wrapped an arm around her waist and made her walk with him.
“We’re going to Mallory Square,” he said, close to her ear. “Walk, Trudy.”
She moved more like a zombie than a lithe, young woman. He tightened his arm around her waist and they made their way jerkily along the sidewalk. He realized that she was stumbling more than walking, so he directed her toward a covered bench next to a bus stop. Anyone looking at them probably thought she was completely wasted. He let her slide down his body to sit on the bench and he joined her, peering into her flushed face and expressionless, olive green eyes. God, she was really gone!
“What’s he doing now, Trudy? Where is he?”
“Mallory Square,” she breathed.
He glanced in that direction and guessed they were about two blocks from the square – the acclaimed southernmost tip of the continental United States. Steel drum music drifted to him and then a violin sang out as musicians warmed up. He could imagine the scores of artists, clowns, jugglers, stilt-walkers, and even Gypsy palm readers and half-assed psychics joining crowds of natives and vacationers as they did every evening to watch the unobstructed view of the sun setting in the ocean.
Studying Trudy’s blank expression, he wondered what was going on behind her sightless green
eyes. Her experience might be similar to his, but it also had to be vastly different. He mingled with benign spirits. She had been taken over by a flesh-and-blood devil who was only a few blocks from where they sat. An icy chill clamped onto his heart and, not for the first time, he feared for Trudy’s safety. They were close to the killer. If she could commune with him, could the killer sense her, as well? If the killer saw her, would he make the connection and realize she was a threat?
“What do you see?” he asked her, wishing she’d talk. He took her by the shoulders and turned her around so that she faced him on the bench.
“Her. I see her,” Trudy said, her lips barely moving.
“What does she look like? What’s her name?”
An unpleasant smile claimed her lush mouth. “See you later, cuntie. We’ll have fun later. Yeah, laugh it up, bitch. I’ll fuck your mouth and make you choke on my big, fat cock before I slice off your nipples. Yeah, I can see your nips sticking out under that thin shirt. You think you’re such a pretty pussy, don’t you? Fucking bitch. Later. After some girl talk.”
Levi shook his head, disturbed by the ugliness falling from her lovely mouth. He winced, hoping she’d come back soon. Girl talk? What the hell? Was the woman already talking to Zelda while the murderer looked on?
Trudy blinked and blinked again. A shudder convulsed through her and then life blazed in her green eyes again. A whimper escaped from her.
“Thank God.” Levi pulled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. “Jesus, that scares the shit out me, so I can only imagine what it does to you.”
“What?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.
Reluctantly, he held her a little away from him and met her questioning gaze. “What did you see? What does she look like? Do you know her name?”
Trudy drew in shaking breath and closed her eyes. “She’s about my age, taller than me, white-blond hair and it’s piled up on her head in a high ponytail. She’s stacked. Big boobs – probably double D’s – small waist, small hips, tanned legs. She’s wearing cutoffs and a white t-shirt and she’s barefoot.”
“Is she with anyone? Is Zelda with her?”