Through Her Heart (Mind's Eye Book 6)

by Deborah Camp

  Stuart’s eyes slid sideways to regard him with a hint of fear.

  “They scared me at first. But they never hurt me. They just talked to me.”

  “About what?” Stuart whispered as his complexion paled.

  “About their lives and how they died mostly. I told my parents about it, but they didn’t believe me. They said they didn’t want me to talk to them about it ever again.”

  “How come?”

  “Because they thought I was making it all up. But it kept happening and I needed to tell someone about what was going on, so I told my mother again. She cried. She didn’t like to hear about it. Grownups get scared about things they don’t understand just like kids do.”

  “That would scare me. I’d hide under my bed or in the clos—under my bed.” Stuart drank the rest of the water. He scooted off the couch and dropped the bottle and candy wrapper into the waste paper basket beside Dr. McClain’s desk. Instead of joining Levi on the couch again, he hopped up into the wingback chair Dr. McClain usually filled. He kept his gaze glued to the toes of his shoes.

  Levi had seen the flash of panic in his eyes when he’d almost said closet and he felt the child’s uneasiness as if it were his own. “Listen, Stu. I didn’t mean to scare you. I simply wanted to let you know that I understand how odd it can feel when you can do things that other kids can’t. It was especially difficult for me when I was young because no one would listen to me. Everyone said I was lying. But I wasn’t.” He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Did you tell your parents about being able to see things in your mind?”

  Stuart didn’t answer and didn’t even glance in Levi’s direction. Levi decided to change topics and give the kid a break.

  “Hey, Stu, do you like baseball?”

  The change of subject made the boy bat his lashes and glance in momentary confusion at Levi. “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you like to go to a Braves game with me and Trudy?”

  Color stained his cheeks again. “Yes!”

  “Great. Their final home game for the season is Saturday. Do you have plans for Saturday already?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, you do now.” Damn, those season baseball tickets sure came in handy, he thought, basking in the boy’s bright smile. “They’re playing the Phillies.” He squinted one eye and waved a finger at Stuart. “And if you can predict the winner, keep that to yourself.”

  Stuart grinned. “I can’t do that. Nobody can.”

  Levi scoffed, but didn’t argue. He’d burst that balloon some other time.

  Chapter 6

  The house where Ian, Shelley, and Stuart McFarland had lived was a spacious ranch with a two-car garage and a swimming pool in the backyard. The Atlanta neighborhood was quiet with kids riding bicycles, men raking leaves, and women setting out pots of chrysanthemums. A real slice of Norman Rockwell’s America.

  Except for that one night when all hell broke loose.

  Levi entered the house first, followed by Trudy and Deputy Elana Harper. Detective Myers had a court date, so Deputy Harper had filled in for him, escorting Levi and Trudy to the scene of the double murder. Elana Harper was in her forties with black, braided hair and a light brown complexion. Big, coffee-colored freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. She rested her right hand on her holstered revolver by habit, Levi assumed since the house wasn’t occupied. He felt Trudy’s steady gaze and saw the questions floating in her green eyes.

  “I don’t feel anything yet,” he said, answering the unasked queries. “But I’m definitely being drawn to the kitchen.”

  He led the way, moving quickly through the big living room with its two couches, two recliners, and wall-mounted television. The dining room held a table for six and a hutch full of dishes.

  “Oooh,” Trudy cooed, stopping in front of the display of assorted china.

  “What?” Levi asked.

  “A complete set of turquoise Bernardaud Eden.”

  Levi shook his head at her penchant for old things and moved on into the kitchen. “Why haven’t their belongings been moved out of here? It’s been two months.”

  “Some kind of legal hangup,” the deputy said. “We have the all clear now, so this stuff will go into storage next week, I guess. The couple didn’t leave a will, so everything is going through the court system, which is as slow as Granny first thing in the morning.”

  Levi’s steps faltered and he stared at the door that led to the garage. “He entered the house here?”

  “Yes,” the deputy said. “But the alarm didn’t go off. He knew the code.”

  “He knew the code,” Levi repeated, locating the panel beside the door. He closed his eyes and emptied his mind before he touched the pads of his fingers to the buttons. Numbers popped behind his eyelids. Seven, three, nine, four, four. How would the intruder know this combination? “So, given that he’s probably not psychic, he had to have been told the alarm code or he witnessed someone punching it in and remembered it. You questioned all their neighbors and friends? Anyone who might have been given the code?”

  “Sure have,” Deputy Harper assured him. “And no one knew it, other than the neighbor to the west. Mr. Art Savoy. A sixty-nine-year-old retired firefighter who lives with his wife, Susan. He was given the code when the McFarlands went on vacation last year. They took Stuart to Disney World in Florida.”

  “The alarm’s turned off now, right?”

  “No. It’s on the ‘stay’ setting.”

  “I’d like to see the garage.”

  “Okay. Wait a sec. I have the code in my note—.”

  Levi punched in the code and the panel blinked “Alarm OFF.” Looking over his shoulder at the deputy’s stunned expression, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Psychic stuff. I could sense which numbers had been pressed and the correct order was a lucky guess on my part.” He opened the door and descended the three steps to the garage level. It was empty other than sundry items; a step ladder, paint cans, and plastic bins.

  Trudy joined him. “Show-off,” she whispered, and he flashed her a grin.

  “Where are their cars?”

  “At the police yard,” the deputy answered Levi from the garage doorway, still staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar.

  He walked slowly around the garage, but felt no prickles of awareness or saw anything noticeably out of place. The police had been through here already. “Okay. Can we look at their bedroom now?”

  “Sure. This way.”

  Levi motioned for the deputy and Trudy to precede him. Once inside, he took Trudy’s hand in case she needed some emotional support. Being at a murder scene made them both uncomfortable, but Trudy seemed more on edge than usual. He wrestled for and pinned her gaze.

  “You okay, Tru?”

  She shrugged. “As okay as one can be, I suppose.”

  He squeezed her hand. “If it’s too much, duck out.”

  “No.” She shook her head, adamantly. “I can do this. I’ve done it before.”

  “Right.”

  They turned a corner into what would be the bedroom wing. He focused ahead when the deputy stood outside a room at the end of the short hallway that had a pool of yellow police tape on the threshold.

  “It’s been released,” he noted. “So, I can touch anything I want to in there?”

  “Yes.”

  He let go of Trudy’s hand and stepped inside the room. Draperies were pulled across two large windows, shrouding everything in gray. There wasn’t much to see. The king-sized bed had been stripped down to the frame. All the dresser drawers were missing, having been taken by the police. All personal effects were also gone. The generous, walk-in closet was empty.

  “Did the police take all the clothes?” Trudy asked, peeking inside the closet.

  “That’s right. Everything will be gone through. Also, we’re trying to determine if anything is missing or damaged. We’re not sure what was taken from here. So far, it appears a couple of necklaces, some rings, three watches, and two sets of
cufflinks are missing. Oh, and a six-pack of beer.” Deputy Harper propped her hands at her waist, the fingers of her right hand curling automatically around the butt of her revolver.

  “Beer, huh? Who told you the contents of the fridge?” Levi asked.

  “They had a housekeeper. She knew because she aned the refrigerator every week.”

  Levi gave it another half a minute before he decided there was nothing in the room of note, other than the lingering stamp of terror and death. “And where is Stuart’s room?”

  “This way,” the deputy said. “To the right. The two on the left are guest rooms.”

  When Trudy started for the door, Levi rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Tell you what. Why don’t you stay in here and concentrate on the perp. See if you can’t connect with him again.”

  Her green eyes widened and then she angled her chin up in that way that always made his blood heat. “Being in here won’t help me do that.”

  “You know that for a fact, do you?” he challenged her. She had a stubborn streak when it came to her methods, and he usually had to browbeat her into trying something new. He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear and her clean, sweet scent trying to seduce him as he whispered, “You’re more powerful than you think. Just try it for me. Okay?” He kissed her earlobe before straightening to look into her expressive eyes again. They were warmer.

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  He held her hand for a few moments, his thumb skipping over her knuckles, before he let her go and went to join the deputy in Stuart’s room.

  Left alone in the bedroom, Trudy sucked in a big breath to steady her nerves. She wondered if Levi had been able to tell that she was jittery. Ever since she’d entered the house, she’d felt as if a weight had landed in her stomach. Every step was an ordeal. Every breath, a conscious effort. Her heart beat dully in her chest as she allowed her gaze to track around the room where two people had loved, laughed, argued, dreamed, and died.

  Had the thief of their lives known them or had their luck run out that fateful night and they were slain by a stranger? Had he stalked them? Had he seen them one day working in their yard, washing their car, playing ball with their son, and decided they would be his next target?

  Who was he? Just who in the hell was he?

  Trudy’s knees wobbled and then turned to jelly. She sat, cross-legged, on the floor and stared at the bedframe. So innocent. They’d been asleep with their little boy down the hall from them when their lives had been snuffed out like candle flames. Why? Why? Why?

  Trepidation squirmed up her spine, shivery and ominous. She closed her eyes, giving her mind over to it – all but begging him to join her. It had been too long since she’d slipped into his mind. She desperately wanted to know his identity so that he could be put away and never hurt anyone again. And to ease Stuart’s fears. She could tell that he writhed inside with worry. Putting the murderer behind bars wouldn’t make everything right again for the boy, but it would definitely give him ease.

  Dim, wisps of images flashed behind her lids, moving so quickly she couldn’t decipher them. Gradually, they slowed, blurred, and disappeared entirely.

  Damn it! Trudy opened her eyes and her heart thudded against her ribs. The bedroom was gone.

  The sun was so bright, she wished for sunglasses. It bounced off the water in the pool and created diamonds in the water drops that leapt up when the swimmers splashed. Their laughter rang in her ears, but instead of making her smile, the merry sound pissed her off.

  Fucktards. Every one of them. Can’t do the simplest thing like change a fucking lightbulb or use a plunger to unclog their tampons from the toilet.

  “Did you finish up, pal?”

  He turned toward the voice. Oh, jolly Christ. Frank the fuckup. “Yes, sir.”

  “Tomorrow, a crew’s coming in to drain this pool. We’re closing it until next spring. Should have done it right after Labor Day, but the weather’s been so nice, we postponed it. Don’t let them leave until they’ve drained it properly and put the protective tarp over it. Understand?”

  “You can count on me.”

  “I know I can, pal.”

  Yeah, pal. You call me that because you have no fucking idea what my name is. Yeah, yeah. Keep smiling, Franky old boy. Move along there. You’ve done your hard work for the day by issuing orders. Time to collect your paycheck. You dipstick.

  “Oh. Another thing.” Frank turned back to him.

  “Yes, sir?”

  Frank made a frowny face. “The police contacted me the other day and asked if you worked here. Of course, I told them that you do. They said something about coming by to question you.” He scratched at the brown scruff on his cheeks. “It’s something about you working for some people who were murdered.”

  “Huh.” Fucking cops.

  “Anyway, if they show up, you can take time off to speak to them.”

  He turned away, giving a little wave, and made tracks as a thread of worry wove through him. The fucking police. He sure as hell wasn’t sticking around to talk to them. Or maybe he should. If he disappeared, he’d make himself more suspicious.

  Yeah. Better if he played it cool.

  Why were they tracking him down? Had the kid been in the house, after all? Had the little bugger seen something and blabbed to the cops?

  The questions burned a hole in his mind as his stride lengthened. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, pacing to a bank of elevators, stepping into one and punching B. The car gave a jerk and then smoothly descended. He liked it here, so he’d talk to the cops if they came around. They had nothing on him. He was clean. Squeaky clean. Two shots. No prints. Nothing. If that bitch hadn’t woke up and started to scream, he would have gotten away without any fuss. Just like always. In quick and easy, grab the stuff he wanted, and out.

  Bitch got what was coming to her, anyway. She’d looked at him as if he was some kind of lower lifeform. So had her limp-dick husband. Hell, blowing away two more educated idiots was doing the world a favor.

  But had their kid been there? His bed had been mussed up.

  That kid was a loose thread. And he hated loose threads. If that little brat had seen him and could—.

  The squawk of voices penetrated Trudy’s mind, separating it from the stranger’s. She blinked and her vision blurred momentarily before sharpening. She found herself staring into Levi’s cobalt blue eyes. He squatted in front of her, his hands running up and down her arms, a frown marring his features.

  “You back with me, baby?”

  The scratchy voice sounded again and Trudy looked past him to where Deputy Harper stood in the doorway. She reached for the radio transmitter attached to her shoulder, pressed the side of it, and said, “Ten-four. I’ll be heading back there in a few. Just wrapping up here at the McFarland residence.”

  “It worked, huh?” Levi asked, smoothing his palm over her hair to bring her focus back on him.

  Her mouth was dry and she swallowed before testing her voice. “It worked. You were right.” She sighed. “Again.”

  Smiling, he touched his lips to her forehead. “I believe in you. Did you see anything helpful?”

  “He’s worried about Stuart. He’s afraid Stuart might have seen him.”

  “He knew that Stuart was here?”

  “He suspected, but he didn’t see him. He noticed that Stuart’s bed was unmade as if he’d been sleeping in it.”

  The deputy came closer. “Anything else?”

  “He was told by his boss or manager that the police had called and were coming to speak to him.” Trudy noted the deputy’s look of surprise “He was thinking about running, but he decided to stay put and talk to the cops.”

  “Where was he? What kind of work is he doing?”

  “He’s at a hotel and he’s a maintenance worker.”

  “Which hotel?” Deputy Harper asked.

  “I don’t know.” Trudy shrugged. “I didn’t see any signs. The color scheme in the hallway where the eleva
tors were was beige with dark blue pinstripes on the walls and I think the carpet was a goldish color. Swirling gold and yellow and brown.”

  The officer pulled a small spiral notebook and pen from her shirt pocket, located a clean page, and jotted down the information. “Did you see what he looks like?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing? His height? Weight? Body art?”

  Trudy closed her eyes and concentrated on what she’d witnessed. “He was wearing dark blue pants and a lighter blue shirt.”

  “Like a uniform,” Levi said.

  “Yes.”

  “Any logo on it?”

  “Not that I could see. He had on boots. Black boots. Oh, and his boss’s name is Frank.”

  “Frank. Got it.” Deputy Harper gave a definitive nod. “This could help narrow down the hunt. We might even be able to scrape together a decent lineup and maybe have the little boy see if anyone looks familiar.”

  Levi stood, grabbed Trudy’s hands, and pulled her to her feet as he addressed the deputy. “So, you’re talking to maintenance workers. That means that some were here in the past few months?”

  “Yes.” Harper stowed the notebook and pen. “The McFarlands were upgrading. They had a new refrigerator and range put in. They also purchased a new washer and dryer. And they changed out some light fixtures and put in a new vanity in the guest bathroom. There were, all told, ten men in and out of here doing work. Plus, they had some yard work done. Cleaning out the flowerbeds and planting some shrubs in the backyard.”

  “They’ve questioned those people by now, right?” Levi asked.

  “Most of them. Not all of them. A few have been hard to track down. A couple of them are undocumented. One or two others have a list of aliases. Things like that jam up the works and slow us down.”

  “Right.” Levi captured Trudy’s attention. “I want you to see Stuart’s room and where he was hiding.”

  She went with him down the hall, wanting to get a look at the layout and where Stuart had hidden. His room was just as she’d imagined it would be. Large, with a bay window and window seat. A double bed against one wall with posters of dinosaurs and rockets blasting off from Earth and of Saturn and Mars. They reminded her of the large, framed photographs of nebulas, comets, and black holes lining the hallway of their apartment, courtesy of Levi. Action figures stood sentry on a book shelf along with stacks of books. A map of the world was tacked to a cork board and a laptop computer and printer sat on a small study desk. A metal ball bat stood propped in one corner behind a blue whiffle ball. There wasn’t a television or any gaming devices, which Trudy found unusual.