by Deborah Camp
She traced his moist lips with her fingertip, admiring the collection of shadows across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “I love you.”
His smile was slow and worth the wait. “I know.”
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”
He arched a brow. “No?”
“No.” When his arms tightened around her, she tucked her head under his chin and marched tiny kisses along his collarbone.
“Trudy Louise Tucker Wolfe, I love you back. To the moon and back. To Pluto and back.” He was quiet for almost a minute before he confessed in a husky whisper, “God, I never thought I’d say something that corny to anyone. You’ve turned me into a walking, talking bad romance novel.”
She laughed and nuzzled the trace of a cleft under his chin. “My very own Heathcliff.” Closing her eyes as after-sex sedation began to kick in, she mused about how appropriate that was, for he was a mercurial, damaged boy who’d grown up to be a complex, haunted man. But, unlike that fictional, dark romance, theirs would be happy, not full of tears and angst. Eventually, the sheer strength of their love would slay his inner demons and he would be confident and secure in their complete devotion to each other. Not tonight, maybe, but eventually. She’d make sure of it.
Chapter 6
Walking hand-in-hand with Levi along the buckled sidewalks of Eureka Springs, Trudy smiled as she surveyed the wild collection of people around her. Tourists mixed with locals, but it wasn’t always easy to tell them apart. There were families, lovers, gaggles of girls, and bunches of boys. Trudy and Levi fit in with the majority of them in jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, his forest green and hers olive green. Quintara, walking on Trudy’s other side, rocked her usual multi-colored caftan and ropes of beads. Today, she’d added silver dollar sized gold earrings and gold bangle bracelets that clinked every time she pointed out something in a window or an attractive man.
“The problem is that so many gorgeous, single men don’t play on my team,” Quintara said, pushing out her lower lip in a pout. “Just yesterday I chatted up a lovely black man I happened upon in the fudge shop. I was on the verge of giving him my number when another handsome devil strolled up and kissed him on the cheek and patted his ass. Well, I must say, that took the wind from my sails!”
Trudy laughed and swung her hip, bumping into Quintara’s plumper one. “Don’t you worry. It’s a big ocean and you’re resilient.”
Quintara tipped back her head and released her trademarked hooting laugh. “That’s right. I don’t sink. I float right on to the next one!”
They’d decided to spend the next morning having breakfast together and then indulge in some shopping. The breakfast buffet at one of the local restaurants had been scrumptious and now they were taking in the sights of the charming, little town that had a distinctive Alpine feel with its gingerbread detailed houses, bright colors, and multi-storied buildings that climbed down hillsides as well as up them. So far, Quintara had purchased a book about the history of Eureka Springs, which Levi had insisted on paying for, and Trudy had chosen placemats featuring lovely water color paintings of Victorian houses for her parents, and decks of cards with Victorian era naughty photos on them for her siblings.
A horse-drawn carriage loaded with tourists jingled by, edging pedestrians back onto the sidewalks. As they wound their way along the narrow main street, Quintara paused at one intersection and pointed down the side street.
“That third house . . . the light blue one? That’s where Glenn used to live. The house that was foreclosed on.”
Levi nodded. “I visited him there several times.”
The house had a wrap-around porch and elaborate gingerbread moldings along the roof edge. Hummingbirds drank from several feeders hanging under the eaves. She imagined Levi there with Glenn, two friends sitting and talking about ghosts and spirits. What was Levi’s life like back then? Was he lonely? Sure, he’d had plenty of available women, but did he ever wish for someone special? Did he ever wish for her?
“It’s lovely,” Trudy said, pushing away the musings. “It must have been awful for him to lose it.”
“Yes.” Quintara sighed. “But he was too proud to ask anyone for help. I know that Rhema and Alan would have given him some money. Sunshine and Perchance would have assisted him, too.”
“I would have, for sure,” Levi interjected. “I considered Glenn a friend.”
“Yes, dear. I have no doubt you would have opened your wallet to him. He had but to ask.” Quintara lifted the eyeglasses dangling from the beaded chain around her neck and squinted ahead of them. “Isn’t that . . ? Yes!” She waved, her bracelets singing. “Sabra! Hello, dear.”
Catching sight of Sabra, Trudy motioned for her to join them. Dressed in a wraparound yellow dress that made her brunette hair look even darker, Sabra was a burst of sunshine. She hugged Quintara and sent Trudy and Levi a happy smile.
“Are you all out shopping today? Looking for souvenirs?”
“Yes. We’re stretching our legs and poking around town.”
“Same here.” She held up a small, white sack. “I’m addicted to the croissants from the main street bakery and I couldn’t resist buying a few. Now I’m headed for the candy shop because I’m also addicted to their white chocolate pretzels.”
“Oooo.” Trudy’s mouth watered. “White chocolate pretzels are my weakness.” She focused her smile on Levi. “We’ll have to stop there and get some.”
He made a frowny face. “I thought I was your weakness.”
“My main one, but not my only one,” she amended.
“Are you spending the rest of the weekend here?” Sabra asked.
“We’re leaving on Sunday.” Levi slipped an arm around Trudy’s shoulders and she breathed in his fresh lemony-lime aftershave.
“I plan to stay until mid-week to visit with Rhema and Alan.” Quintara removed the glasses, letting them fall back onto her ample bosom. “I’d stay even longer if I didn’t have to teach class Wednesday and Thursday evenings and then there is the Psychic Roundtable on Friday.”
“What do you teach?” Sabra asked.
Quintara’s penciled brows lifted as if she were surprised that Sabra didn’t already know. “How to read tarot cards, how to read palms, that sort of thing.”
“Are there really that many psychics out there? I know that nearly every town has a Gypsy fortune teller setting up shop, but I would think that people who have real ESP skills wouldn’t be that plentiful.”
“Everyone has sensory perception to some degree,” Quintara said with a toss of her head. She moved closer to the buildings to give people walking past them more room.
“Really?” Sabra asked, and Trudy couldn’t tell if she were surprised or dubious by that comment.
“We might all possess some inklings,” Levi broke in, “but that is a far cry from being psychic. Quintara is the best at helping someone who is truly gifted learn how to control and use their abilities, but it’s a stretch to say that everyone who seeks her out is actually psychic.”
Quintara arched a brow in a haughty challenge. “Everyone isn’t as tremendously gifted as you, dear, or as our Trudy here, but my students do have ESP abilities. Every one of them.”
“Is that right?” Sabra teased with a light laugh. “You’re talking to a scientist here, Quintara. Even though I was surrounded – uh, maybe even smothered? – by mystics here in Eureka Springs, I can’t say that I believe that each one had any actual talent. Oh, don’t get me wrong,” she hurried on when Quintara opened her mouth to object. “I find it all fascinating and sometimes amusing, but not necessarily believable.”
Trudy squeezed Levi’s arm, detouring his next statement, which she knew would continue the verbal sparring. “Right, well anyway, you should come along with us, Sabra. We’re just killing time. I bet it’s been awhile since you’ve been inside some of these shops.”
“When I come back here, I usually just spend my time with Dad.” Sabra turned in a half circle, loo
king ahead in the direction they were walking, then spun back around to them. “You know what, I can’t. I want to get back to Dad’s and attack these croissants. I’ll be seeing you, though. Have a nice stroll!” She turned and crossed the street before they could barely mumble a decent farewell.
“Did we upset her?” Trudy asked, her gaze following Sabra’s quick-footed escape along the other side of the street.
“If we did, she’s thin-skinned,” Levi said.
Quintara shrugged and turned to continue their walk, but abruptly stopped again. “Oh, dear. Now I know what upset her.”
“What?” Trudy asked, looking ahead for something out of the ordinary.
“See that flight of stairs climbing up that hillside?”
To the right of the sidewalk, a flight of steps marched straight up to the second level of the town’s main thoroughfare. Iron railings ran along either side of it, and Trudy thought she’d definitely want to hold on to them if she navigated those steps. A talented artist had painted them with the image of a rainbow-colored tree and a variety of little waterfalls skipping down and “pooling” on the sidewalk below.
“How beautiful, but there are so many steps!”
“Looks like fifty or more,” Levi said, as they moved on, closing in on the lavish stairway to the street above.
“This is where she died.”
Trudy’s gaze snapped from the artistic steps to Quintara, as did Levi’s. “Who died?”
“Eudora. Sabra’s mother. That’s why Sabra left so suddenly. She probably didn’t realize she was this close to where it happened, and then when she did, well, it brought all that horror back on her. Poor darling. The locals refer to this as Eudora Falls now. Macabre, isn’t it?”
“And how.” Trudy stared at the stairway and gave a shiver when she thought of losing her footing on them. “What happened? She tripped and fell?”
Quintara nodded, sadly. “All the way from the very top up there to here.” She pointed at the painted pool. “She broke her neck and was dead within minutes. Before the ambulance could arrive, she was gone.”
“How terrible.” Trudy glanced at Levi to gauge his reaction and felt her eyes widen at the intensity of his expression. His jawline looked rock-hard as he tipped back his head to let his dark blue eyes follow the line of the steps to the top. He grasped the rail in one hand and squeezed Trudy’s forearm with the other.
“Wait here. I’m going up there.”
Trudy clamped her hand on his before he could remove it. “Why?”
He didn’t look at her, but gently disengaged himself. “Something . . . there’s something. Stay here.” And then he began taking the steps two at a time.
“Now what?” Trudy asked, under her breath.
“He’s like a bloodhound,” Quintara said. “He’s on the hunt, dear.”
“Yes, but for what?”
“He obviously senses something that disturbs him.”
“Yeah, well, Eudora Martin died here. That’s what he senses.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I feel it, too. A lingering sadness . . . people all upset and crying. Someone screaming.” She pressed her hands to her ears for a moment as the ghostly screech blasted and then faded in her head. “No wonder Sabra wanted to get away from this place.”
“It has to be a terrible reminder for her.”
“She wasn’t with her mother when it happened, was she?”
“No. I believe that she was here in Eureka Springs, though. Yes, I think she was in still in high school. Eudora had met someone for dinner or something or other and was headed home, but she never made it.”
Levi was at the top of the stairs and Trudy marveled that he could climb them all that quickly. His lungs must be bursting and his heart galloping like a wild mustang. He stood and looked down at them. Trudy tried to count the steps, but gave up on the twenty-third one. There were at least twenty more. He began making his way back to them, more slowly this time. He paused every so often, looking off to the side. Trudy had watched him in action enough to know that he was listening or watching as something played out inside his mind. He was channeling. No doubt about it. Channeling Eudora? Couldn’t be. Eudora had been psychic, so he wouldn’t be able to reach her. So, who?
He jogged down the final dozen or so steps, his breathing ragged and beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. Removing a handkerchief from his back pocket, he dabbed at the droplets on his face and looked back up at the stairway again.
“So, what’s going on?” Trudy asked, tapping one foot impatiently. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“It wasn’t an accident.”
Trudy shared a startled glance with Quintara. “Eudora’s fall?”
“Yes.” He swung around to them. “She was pushed.”
“She told you that just now?” Trudy asked, totally confused.
“No. I felt it, though. The way she died left a deep imprint up there.” His gaze flew up to the top steps again. “It’s very strong. The images and feelings were crystal clear to me.”
“And who would have done that to her?” Quintara asked, her fingers worrying with her necklaces.
“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t either. But she felt it. She felt someone put their hands on her back and shove her. Hard. She had no time to catch her balance or even scream. She went sailing down, head over feet. But it was no accident.” He looked first at Quintara and then at Trudy. “That’s another psychic murdered here.”
“Another . . .?” Quintara frowned. “We don’t know that, dear boy. Glenn could have fallen asleep at the wheel—.”
“Yes, but he didn’t,” Levi cut her off, his gaze now locked on Trudy. “We know Glenn’s death was no accident. Don’t we, Trudy?”
Trudy nodded. “I’m fairly certain it was deliberate Quintara. Someone forced him off the road.”
Quintara sucked in a breath and her brown eyes rounded.
“And then there’s Kathryn.”
Quintara drew back a little in surprise. “That was a terrible mishap, but surely not—.”
“Murder,” Levi finished for her.
“I saw her death, Quintara,” Trudy explained. “It wasn’t an accident. Someone pushed her so that she fell head-first into the garbage bin.”
“Good heavens!” Quintara shook her head, her brown eyes growing wide with concern.
Trudy gave a half-shrug in a sign of resignation. “Whoever it is was really happy that Kathryn was dying.”
“And my theory is that whoever did that, also pushed Eudora and ran Glenn off the road,” Levi stated.
Quintara slammed her eyes shut. “This is all too terrible. Who would watch that poor woman suffer like that and not rush to help her? It’s monstrous, I tell you.”
Levi folded Quintara in his embrace and kissed the top of her head. “That monster is right here in this charming, little town feeding on psychics. That’s why we’re leaving. We’ll drive you to Tulsa, Quintara. Then Trudy and I will catch a flight back to Atlanta.”
Trudy gave him a say what? glare.
“What are you saying?” Quintara asked, moving back from him. “You mean, tomorrow?”
“No, I mean now.” He glanced at his wristwatch and reached for Trudy’s hand, his fingers closing around hers. “We’ll pack, pay our bill, and you can say your goodbyes to Rhema and Alan. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours and we’ll be in Tulsa before dark. I’ll check on flights back to Atlanta. We might be able to catch one tonight.”
“Wait just a moment.” Quintara planted her feet, holding her ground as people walked around them. “I’m not going back home today. I’m taking a few days to visit with Rhema and Alan just as I’d planned.”
“No, you’re not.”
Trudy looked from the stamp of determination on Levi’s face and the same expression on Quintara’s. She’d seen these two square off against each other before and it was both fascinating and unnerving.
Quintara jutted out her round chin. “Don’t presume t
o bark orders at me, Levi Wolfe. Not unless you want to be taken down a notch or two.”
For a few moments, anger glinted darkly in his expressive eyes, but then it faded and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Quintara, I adore you. You know that, yes?” His voice dipped to a warm, velvety register.
Quintara visibly relaxed and a smile curved her lips. “I do. And I adore you.”
“And because I worship you, I am determined to protect you. You and Trudy. You two are the most precious things in my world and I’ll do anything – anything – to keep you safe. Someone is murdering psychics here. I’m not spouting a theory. I’m telling you it’s a goddamn fact. I’m not going to let you and Trudy remain in their crosshairs. Personally, I want to get out of Dodge, too. The sooner, the better.”
“You’re not overreacting a teeny bit?” Trudy asked.
“You don’t feel the oppressiveness in the air?” he challenged.
“I feel . . . something, yes.” She swung out an arm, indicating the area around them. “But we’re in Eureka Springs! The place is packed with spirits.”
“Trudy, three psychics – that we know of – have been killed here. Quite possibly by the same person or persons. You’ve been in the head of one. Someone who delights in murder.”
“Yes, but normally we would be trying to zero in on that person, not run from him.”
“Normally, that person isn’t zeroing in on psychics.” He clamped a hand on her elbow and the other on Quintara’s. “Now, ladies, we’re leaving.”
Trudy exchanged a helpless look with Quintara before they allowed Levi to rush them along, back to Rhema and Alan’s house where they’d left their car. The couple sat in big rocking chairs on the front porch.
“Back so soon? We thought you’d be gone longer,” Alan said, rising from the chair and reaching out a steadying hand to Quintara as she mounted the porch steps.
“Levi has ants in his pants,” Quintara grumbled, getting a startled chuckle from Alan. “He is determined to pack up and go back to Tulsa this very day and insists that I go with them.”