Through Her Touch (Mind's Eye Book 5)

by Deborah Camp

  “Ummm . . . because they’re our friends and we should get together more with them.” She gave him a half-grin when he sent her a slightly peeved glare at her mocking him. “What’s so weird about that?”

  “Wes is an employee. Pete Gonzales is a business partner, but I own sixty percent of his business.”

  She nodded. “But they’re your friends. Your best friends. I’d like to get to know their wives better. In fact, I’d also like to invite Darla and Guy over one night for dinner.”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to socialize with Darla. I mean, she’s a fantastic person, but she’s my office supervisor and my assistant. I need to keep a professional distance from her. And Guy works for Gonzo.”

  “We were at their wedding,” Trudy reminded him.

  “Yes, as a professional courtesy.” He heaved a sigh. “What’s gotten into you? Why do you want to have people over? We can have a cocktail party, if you want, and invite some of my colleagues and their significant others.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Like a business thing? No. I’m talking informal. Just lounging around, eating junk food, playing games or watching TV, and talking. Wes told me that before I came along you would have Gonzo and him over sometimes to watch football on TV.”

  “Yes, that’s right. It was an open door invitation. If they wanted to get away from their wives and kids for the afternoon, they could drop in and watch the game with me.”

  She digested this. “Oh, and now you have a wife, and so all the fun’s gone out of that.”

  “I have a wife now and I enjoy spending my free time with her instead.” He swirled the wine around in the glass before he finished it off. “Do you have friends back in Tulsa that you hung out with? Not your sister. Sadie doesn’t count.”

  She didn’t like his doubting tone. “I do, actually. I went to the movies and stuff with Joanie and Carol from Quintara’s Psychic Roundtable and then there’s Lindy. She works at my brother’s pawn shop and we hung out a lot. I had a few people I was close with in college, but we kind of drifted apart after we graduated.” She shrugged. “It happens. What about you, Levi? Who do you hang with?” She could tell by the tightening of his mouth and jawline that he had no answer for her. He was a loner. She knew that about him. Before her, he had superficial hookups. A serial dater.

  “Quintara.”

  She nodded. “Yes, Quintara is one of my besties, too. But she lives in Tulsa, so you two can’t hang out a lot. Who else, and if you say Sissy Franklin I’m going to give you a sharp kick to the shin under this table.”

  He chuckled and poured himself more wine. “Sissy and I never hung out together like that.”

  “No, you just screwed each other.”

  He tipped his head to the side in quick consideration. “Yes.”

  “Okay, so who else? Someone you didn’t have sex with. Anybody?”

  Huffing out a sigh, he gave her a confounded glare. “Why are we talking about this? The bottom line is that I don’t socialize with people on my payroll. It’s not good business.”

  “So, you don’t socialize. That’s the bottom line.”

  “I socialize with you and with Quintara.”

  She slid her hand across the table to cover his. His gaze bordered on wariness and vulnerability and that sliced through her like a hot knife. “You should have friends, Levi. We, as a couple, should have friends.” She gave his hand a little squeeze. “How about this? We’re into baseball season, right? We could invite Gonzo and Wes and their families to a game. Buy some good seats, you know? It would be casual, but in a neutral setting. Not as personal as having them here. Would you be comfortable with that?”

  He slid the final forkful of pasta primavera and a bite of French bread into his mouth, giving him time to consider her proposal. “Sure. I guess.”

  “Great. I’ll see what tickets are available for a future game.”

  “We have season tickets.”

  She stared blankly at him, her thought process momentarily spinning its wheels. “We do?”

  “Yes. I buy season tickets every year. I hand them out to employees for jobs well done, promotions, birthdays, anniversaries, things like that.”

  “But we’ve never gone to a Braves game.”

  “Not yet,” he amended with a half-grin. “Say the word and we will.”

  “How many seats? Two? Four?”

  He ran his fingertips up and down the outside of the wine glass. “A dozen.”

  “A – dozen.” The wheels kept whirring, smoking up her brain. “All in one place? Scattered about?”

  “In the club sections. Six in the Chairman seats and six in the Executive seats. They all allow access to the Delta club.” He shrugged. “They’re all good seats behind home plate.”

  She sat back, her hand slipping limply off his. “That must set you back some.”

  He grinned. “It’s a business expense.”

  “Uh-huh.” She shook her head slowly, confronted again with the fact that she’d married a very wealthy man. She knew about his wealth, having sat down with his business attorney for an overview of what he owned, which banks he had money in, how many people he employed, his favorite charities and investments, and his substantial net worth. Much more than she’d previously imagined. She’d figured he was worth a few million, but it turned out he was good for a few hundred million. A little voice inside of her kept whispering, It’s yours now, too! But she still thought of the money – everything, really – as his. “So, we can go to any game and invite them along.”

  “Sure. I’m okay with that. You’re right. It wouldn’t be as awkward that way.”

  “The goal is to have fun. Not be less awkward. I happen to know for a fact that you have total trust in Wes. You also enjoy being around Pete Gonzales. I mean, who do you call when you’re in a tight spot or you need a laugh? Gonzo, right?”

  He nodded, his expression clearing as her words hit their mark. “Yes. I suppose they are my friends.”

  “Levi.” She flung back her head and lifted her hands in a fit of exasperation. “Of course, they’re your friends! They would do anything for you and you’d do anything for them! They are your best friends. Along with Quintara, of course.”

  “And you. You’re my bestest best friend.”

  “Bestest best.” She giggled at that. “Okay, so I’ll check with Mya and Anna and we’ll decide on which Braves game we’ll all meet up at in your fancy ballpark seats.”

  “Our fancy seats,” he corrected her. “Your name’s on them, too.”

  “It is?”

  “Levi and Trudy Wolfe of Wolfe Enterprises, Inc.”

  “Hmmm.” She stood and gathered up their empty plates and glasses. “I do like the sound of that.”

  He picked up the rest of the soiled dishes and half-empty wine bottle and followed in her wake. She loaded the dishwasher while he wiped off the table and countertops. It had become their routine like so many other things that still made her feel sweetly settled. Their morning ritual of him showering first, then her, if they didn’t shower together. Of her dressing while he shaved and him dressing while she took Mouse out to do her “morning business.” Their tacit agreements of where she sat at the table, where he sat, of her favorite living room chair, of his preference for the couch, of her coffee mug with “Mornings Suck” on it and his black mug with WEI’s logo of a howling wolf in gold.

  “My life is so different now.”

  His softly spoken confession turned her around to face him. He leaned back against the counter across from her, ankles crossed, a half-filled wine glass in one hand. He didn’t look at her, but gazed at the dark red liquid swirling around in the goblet.

  “That’s good, I hope.”

  He looked up, his gaze finding hers. “Very good. You know that. Before you, my work was my life.”

  “Not all work.” She gave him a wink.

  A grin raced across his features. “I think I even approached fucking as a job. It was something I nee
ded to do to give me some release.” Lifting the glass, he took a long swallow and another, draining it before setting it on the counter. “I didn’t mind being alone. That’s what I thought. But then you made me out a liar. I was all smoke and mirrors before you.” He shook his head and sadness floated in his eyes. “You remember meeting Cocky, right?”

  “Your attorney. Angela Cochran.”

  “Yes. Well, we had a short . . . you know, time together. Three or four times, if I recall correctly.” He swiped his hand through the air. “Anyway, she told me that she still wanted me as a client, but no more sex. Naturally, I was surprised because I thought the sex had been fine. She agreed it had been more than fine, but that she wasn’t into relationships that were an inch deep, so she was moving on to better days and better lays.”

  Trudy took this in, her estimation of Angela moving farther up. She liked the woman and now she liked her a whole lot more.

  “That left an impression on me,” Levi continued, hitching his butt up onto the counter and bracing his hands on either side of his thighs. “I wasn’t ashamed that she was calling me out on having shallow relationships with women. In fact, I fully admitted that’s what I did and I liked it that way. When a woman tried to get to know me, to become part of my life, I lost interest.” One corner of his lips quirked up. “Until you. You with your big green eyes and luscious mouth. Yeah, I wanted to bury my dick in you. I wanted to taste you, eat you, devour you. What I didn’t expect was how relentless you could be.” He looked down at the floor, chuckling, then back up to her. “You are a human excavator. You just keep digging.” His laugh barely made it past his lips. “And I liked it. Yeah. It felt surprisingly good that someone was making such an effort to know me. And I found myself telling you stuff that I’d never told anyone. Not even Dr. McClain. I was scared, of course.”

  “Scared? Of what?”

  “That once you got to know me, you’d realize I was too much work, too damaged. But something told me that you’d stick.”

  “Like glue.”

  “Like how love is supposed to be. I’d heard about from other people, but didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Even though Quintara is fond of me, she doesn’t know me. Not all of me. I let her see a little of where I’ve been, how I’ve been raised, but I never have fully opened up to her. I didn’t want to lose her, you know?”

  She nodded, her throat closing up. When he was like this – utterly candid, exposed – it unraveled her.

  “But you. A slip of a girl, but there was steel running through you. I knew it like I knew the twisted contours of my soul. The more I revealed to you, the stronger you grew. You didn’t run.”

  “Not from you. Ever.”

  His eyes shimmered. “Your love humbles me, Trudy.” He held out his arms to her and she was in them in a flash. She felt his lips move against her hair, then her temple, her bangs. “Beautiful girl,” he whispered. “You’re my life. And now you want me to make friends.” The last was said with a grin in his voice.

  She laughed and tipped back her head to see his face. “Yes, that’s our next step. Mutual friends we can pal around with. Think you can handle that?”

  “If I waver, I’ll check in with Dr. McClain.”

  She grinned up at him. “I love you, past, present, and future.”

  “That’s a load, baby.”

  “Hey, I’m made of steel. You said it, so it must be true.” She held still for his kiss. His lips moved over hers, but when she should have melted against him, something tugged her away from him. A wayward thought, an interfering presence. Her stomach hiccupped, rolled. Trudy stiffened and pushed out of Levi’s embrace. She heard his voice, far, far away, say her name before another voice, hers but not hers, filled her head. Words that belonged to someone else, thoughts that dripped in long, inky black tendrils overtook her.

  A sidewalk, bathed in shadows, stretched before her. Trees, parked cars, and streetlights lined it, but the streetlights were far apart, leaving big pools of darkness between them. Occasionally, a car or truck zipped by. A bus rumbled past and the brightly colored advertisement on its side was something about a bank and the Pony Express. Up ahead, a short, round woman walked briskly, moving from shadow to light to shadow.

  Look at her. Not a care in the world! Goes from place to place, stirring up trouble, rousting the cockroaches from their crevices, making them think they’re all special. Yeah. You’re special, all right. Special like retarded. Special like you’re not so much psychic as you are in need of psychiatric intervention. Karma intervention.

  The woman up ahead stopped to look in a store window and the ambient light from the interior bathed half of her face. Her profile was bewitching – a pugnacious, turned up at the tip nose, smiling, thin lips, fluffy red curls bouncing on her forehead, cheekbones still noticeable in a face that had plumped with age. She lifted a graceful hand, making half a dozen or more gold and silver bracelets slide down her wrist, and fingered the ropes of colorful beads looped around her neck.

  Quintara!

  Chapter 10

  “Quintara!”

  “What? Where? What’s happening?”

  Levi’s face swam before her and she felt the bite of his fingers pressing into her upper arms, hauling her back to the kitchen. She flattened her hand against her forehead, swaying as the blood made its way up to her brain to restore her equilibrium.

  “It was Quintara,” she whispered. “He’s following Quintara!”

  “Who was? What did you see? Where did you go?”

  “I’m not sure where, but it was the same person. The one driving the car. But on foot, following Quintara.” She whirled around to him. “Where is she right now, Levi? Where?”

  He pushed his hair off his forehead. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Think!”

  “I’ll call her.” He turned and headed for the living room with Trudy right behind him.

  “She’s not at home, so call her cell.” She tapped one foot as she waited for him to snatch his phone up from the coffee table and punch in Quintara’s number.

  “She’s bad about not answering her cell. She even turns if off a lot.”

  “I know. I know.” She chewed on her fingernail. From the scrunching of Levi’s face and the way his hands trembled slightly, she could tell she wasn’t the only one with nerve ends that were sparking like live wires.

  He looked at her while listening to the phone and shook his head. “Going to voice mail,” he told her. “Quintara, it’s Levi. Call me back as soon as you get this.” He disconnected. “Damn it.”

  “I don’t think she’s in Tulsa.”

  “No, she went out of town. Somewhere to speak. I don’t remember where.” He sat on the couch, slumped against the cushions and stared at the ceiling. “Let me try to reach her.”

  Her heart grew icicles. “Levi, she’s not dead!”

  “I know!” He closed his eyes. “But we have a connection. If I think about her really hard, she’ll sometimes sense it. Give me a minute.”

  “Right.” She sat beside him, sitting sideways so she could look at him.

  His head moved in an infinitesimal nod. Bright color dotted his cheeks and his lips thinned with the effort he was making with his mind. Staring at him, she was once again awed by his abilities, his quick mind, and the sheer intensity he could project. Her nerves stretched, taut as bowstrings, as the seconds ticked by. Scenes of Quintara being shoved onto the hard pavement, into oncoming traffic, or even shot at close range flashed through her mind, although she tried to shut them out. The phone buzzed in Levi’s hand and Trudy jerked and let out a little squeak. Levi patted her arm, reassuringly.

  “It’s okay, baby. That’s her. It worked.” He picked up the phone. “Quintara, where are you?”

  “Hello, dear. I’m in the lovely city of St. Joseph, Missouri. How are you and Trudy doing?”

  “We’re . . .” He swallowed, keeping his gaze locked on Trudy. “We’re fine. Worried about you, though.”

&
nbsp; “Worried about me?” She laughed. “Whatever for? Oh! I see that you’ve left a message here on my phone. What a bother! I can’t remember how to retrieve messages on this thing. You should have called me here at the hotel. Wait. Did I tell you where I’d be staying? It’s a charming place in the heart of the city. Oh, yes, and then, just now, I felt you hammering at my mind like you do sometimes. It’s quite distracting, you know, dear.”

  He thrust the phone to Trudy with an aggravated shake of his head. “You talk to her. I’m on the verge of yelling and cussing.”

  Trudy took the phone. She caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep from giggling at his annoyance. He towered up from the couch and paced, walking off his irritation and utter relief at hearing Quintara’s chatter.

  “It’s me, Quintara,” Trudy said, cutting into something Quintara was saying about her hotel accommodations. “Listen, someone is tailing you, and I believe you’re aware of it.” She sensed Levi’s keen regard. He’d walked behind the couch, so that she couldn’t see him, but she could feel the power of his gaze. “Did you drive from Tulsa to St. Joseph?”

  “Uh . . . yes, dear.”

  “Did you rent a car? A white sedan?”

  “Yes. My car isn’t as reliable as it used to be. It’s ten years old and I need to get it in for a checkup. Something is making a clicking noise in it.”

  “Someone scared you on the highway.” It all came together like finally locating the right place for a piece of a jigsaw puzzle that had been left floating off to the side, and then . . . there! That’s where it belongs! The white car in her dream had been driven by Quintara. “That same person was following you tonight. I was there with him. Quintara? You still with me?”

  “Yes, dear.” The flippancy had left her voice. “I thought it was some silly teenage driver or someone who’d drunk too much. I never . . . I didn’t give it a second thought.”

  Levi tapped Trudy’s shoulder and held out his hand for the phone. She gave it to him. He switched it to speaker. “Quintara, here’s what’s going to happen, so listen closely. If you haven’t already, go double lock your door. Do it now.” He waited, his gaze steady on Trudy’s upturned face. He trailed the fingertips of his free hand down her cheek and chin to her shoulder. “Okay. When are you supposed to come home?”