by Deborah Camp
“Do they have a game room?” she asked, turning toward the deputy.
“Sort of. They have a den and there were a few games and a TV in there. Not much, though. We’re told that they didn’t encourage Stuart to watch a lot of TV or play video games. Especially violent ones.”
“That’s good,” Trudy said, nodding her approval. “Too much of that stuff can warp your brain and Stuart has a very fine brain.”
“In here, babe.” Levi motioned her to the walk-in closet.
She went inside where empty hangers were all that were left of the little boy who had lived here. Levi pointed to a door in the wall with a small, knob handle. He opened it and moved aside for her to see. Trudy bent down and peered into the unfinished attic space. The door was only about four feet high and rather narrow. A tight squeeze for an adult. She supposed the area could be used for storage. Reaching in and placing some boxes full of seasonal items would be okay, but crawling in there? Uh-uh. A frisson of fear swept through her, slicing with the precision of a knife blade. She shivered and stepped away.
“He was petrified.”
“Yes. Hardly even breathing.” Levi ran the tips of his fingers along the inside of the door, drawing Trudy’s attention there.
She sucked in a breath when she realized what he was pointing out to her. Scratches had peeled away the white paint to display the wood. Claw marks made by a terrified boy who wanted out of there, but was more afraid of the monster who could be on the other side of that door.
“You think he saw the perp?” Deputy Harper asked from outside the closet.
“I don’t know,” Levi answered, briefly resting his hand on Trudy’s shoulder before he stepped out of the closet. “But, hopefully, Dr. McClain will be able to determine if Stuart saw something and he’s blocked it or he didn’t see anything at all.”
“But he felt it,” Trudy murmured, mostly to herself. She could feel the shadow of the boy’s teeth-rattling, heart-pounding fear. Reaching out, she found Levi’s hand and grasped it. “We have to help him, Levi.”
He covered her hand with his other one and she soaked up the determination shining in his eyes. “We will, baby. We will.”
Chapter 7
“Zowie! These are our seats?” Stuart’s shy smile expanded to megawatts.
Trudy giggled. “They sure are. See? Our name is on them.” She pointed to the covers fitted over the back of the seats bearing the Wolfe Enterprises, Inc. logo. “That’s Levi’s company.”
“You own a company? A whole company?” Stuart bounced on the balls of his feet, so keyed up with energy that he could hardly stand still for more than a few moments.
He’d been like this since Trudy and Levi had picked him up at the children’s shelter where he’d been anxiously waiting outside with one of the shelter workers. Wearing shorts, a striped shirt, sports socks, tennis shoes, and an Atlanta Braves baseball cap, he was so stinking cute that Trudy felt her throat close up for a few moments. Even now, she resisted the urge to give him a Tucker hug and kiss. Was it because he was alone in the world or because he so often reminded her of Levi? Or was it simply because she wanted a child in her life?
“Yes, Trudy and I own a whole company,” Levi said with a chuckle. “I’ll take you on a tour of it soon. Would you like that?”
“Sure. I’m game.” Stuart shoved out his chest before hoisting himself into the center seat to be bracketed by Levi and Trudy. “Right behind home base. This is so cool!”
“It is, isn’t it?” Trudy agreed, getting a befuddled grin from Levi. He was used to this kind of all-star treatment, but she wasn’t and neither was Stuart. His family had been doing well, given the nice house they owned, but Levi was way beyond that. And now . . . well so was she. Still seemed weird to her. “From here you can see the balls and strikes clearly.”
“Super-duper cool.” Stuart sat straighter, his little hands clutching the chair arms as he strained to see everything at once. “Where are the Phillies from?”
“Philadelphia,” Levi said as he turned to wave down a vender. “How about a hotdog, Stuart?”
“Yeah! I mean, yes sir.” Stuart rose onto his knees in the chair and faced the hotdog seller. “Can I have ketchup on mine?”
“Of course,” Levi said, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Tru, you want one?”
“How could I possibly resist?”
“We’ll have three dogs and three root beers, please. What about relish, Stuart? You want that on your dog?”
“Nope. Just ketchup.”
“Two with mustard and one with ketchup. No onions or relish.”
Trudy grinned and called herself silly for being so pleased that Levi knew how she liked her hotdogs. They fell quiet as they settled their canned drinks in the holders and took their first big bites of the warm wieners and soft buns. Trudy rolled her eyes. Levi moaned. Stuart giggled.
“They taste so much better at the ballpark,” Trudy insisted, handing Stuart a napkin to wipe the ketchup from the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Levi.”
“Oh, yeah.” Stuart swallowed. “Thank you.”
“You’re both welcome.”
“Do you play ball, Stewie?” Trudy asked.
“A little.” He shrugged and released a heavy sigh. “I was going to play Little League next year maybe.”
“What position do you think you’d be best at?” Levi asked.
Stuart chewed on a bite of his hotdog a few moments as he rolled his eyes skyward in deep thought. “Short stop because I’m pretty fast.”
“You have to be nimble to play short,” Levi said. “I always wanted to be a catcher.”
“You didn’t play ball when you were a kid?” Stuart asked him.
From the corner of her eye, Trudy caught Levi’s sadness-tinged smile. “No. They didn’t have ball teams where I went to school.”
“Where’d you go to school?”
“All over. I moved a lot.” Levi pointed to Stuart’s shirt and the boy dutifully looked down at it so that Levi could bring his finger up and flick the boy’s nose. “Gotcha.”
Stuart grinned and went back to chowing down on his dog. Over the top of his head, Trudy’s gaze met Levi’s and held on for moments that made her heart race at the tenderness in his expression. She nodded, letting him know that she felt it, too. This boy. This sweet, smart boy was stealing their hearts.
As the game progressed, Stuart finished off the hotdog and root beer and had a handful of peanuts and an ice cream bar for dessert. In the seventh inning stretch, Trudy and Levi tried to teach Stuart how to whistle, but failed since he was missing a couple of front teeth. But he enjoyed it, nonetheless, and made them laugh when he demonstrated his whistle “sound” – a high-pitched weeeoooweee vocalization that wasn’t half bad. In eighth inning, he accepted a stick of gum from Trudy. They cheered for the home team and Levi elicited giggles from Stuart with his raucous calls to the umpire and Philadelphia team.
“Get your eyes tested, ump!”
“You working for the Phillies now, ump?”
“Hey, batter, batter, batter, swing!”
“Try to get one over the plate, pitch!”
At the top of the ninth, the energetic boy was nearly played out. He slumped against Trudy’s side and he tucked him closer, tentatively placing her arm around his shoulders. Her gaze met Levi’s and they smiled at each other, looked at the sleepy boy, and then at each other again. No words were required.
He carried Stuart to the car. The boy’s cheek rested against Levi’s shoulder and his arms circled Levi’s neck. Walking a little behind them, Trudy swallowed sentimental emotion and blinked back a sudden wash of tears. To see Levi in a “daddy” role made her yearn so keenly for it to be reality that she had to fight against a crying jag. Closing the space between them, she linked arms with Levi.
“It’s been a great afternoon,” she said, leaning her cheek against his shoulder in a half hug. “Hasn’t it?”
He nodded and pitched his r
aspy voice even softer so he wouldn’t disturb his sleeping passenger. “We wore him out.”
“He had a blast, though.”
They’d opted for Levi’s Cord to give the boy a “joy ride” as Levi had called it. One of their security guards had stayed with the car since it drew a lot of attention, while the other guard had stuck with them at a discrete distance. Sure enough, even though hulking Ned Thompson stood by the vintage vehicle, several people milled around it, asking questions and admiring the beauty of the sleek automobile.
Spotting them, Thompson opened the car doors and politely dispersed the small crowd.
“Thanks, Thompson,” Levi said, standing by the passenger side while Trudy got in. “You want to hold him in your lap or should I lay him in the back seat?”
Trudy buckled up, then shook her head and held out her arms. “Let me have him.” She settled the boy comfortably against her. He roused, but fell back asleep with a long sigh. Trudy brushed his soft brown hair off his forehead and breathed in the scent of slightly sweaty boy. It was intoxicating and made her heart wrench with longing.
The engine purred to life and Levi waited for the security guards to get into their black SUV before he pulled out of the parking space and made his way in the line of cars to the city streets. Every so often, he turned his head to look at Stuart, sleeping soundly in Trudy’s arms. A smile tipped up the corners of his mouth.
“He likes you,” he said, nodding at the boy.
“He likes you, too,” she whispered. “This was an excellent idea of yours, Mr. Wolfe.”
“I have my moments.”
“He needs to get away from that shelter. He doesn’t like it there.”
Levi’s brows dipped down. “He’s told you that?”
“He said that it’s loud and that there are babies crying.”
The scowl stayed on Levi’s face the rest of the way to the children’s shelter. He parked near the entrance and switched off the engine, but didn’t get out. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Something wrong?” Trudy asked.
“Um. No.” With a short, choppy exhale, Levi bolted from the car and went around to her side. “I’ll take him in,” he said, reaching for Stuart.
Reluctantly, Trudy gave him up to Levi and watched as he carried the boy into the building. She was glad not to accompany him. The shelter was an unfortunate necessity, but it tore Trudy up to leave Stuart there. She felt like she was abandoning him.
Levi wasted no time in there, either, striding toward the car in less than five minutes. He settled behind the wheel, his face set in stern, taut lines. His jaw looked as if it were chiseled from stone. He cranked the engine with a vicious twist of his wrist and set the car moving away at a fast clip.
“I hate leaving him,” Trudy murmured, turning her face away.
“It’s a nice enough place. Looked clean and the attendants were very kind to Stuart. The shelter is . . . well, it’s a safe haven in a shit storm for those kids.” He huffed out a breath. “But knowing that Stuart hates being there . . .” He slammed his palm on the steering wheel. “He’s been through so much already.”
“And he’s such a sensitive boy,” Trudy whispered, swallowing hard, but unable to keep her tears at bay. “I keep wondering if the noise and all the people milling about in there might be doing a number on his nerves. You know, since he’s so hyper aware of anyone approaching, phones getting ready to ring, and that sort of thing.” She sniffed and swallowed the knot of emotion clogging her throat.
“Are you crying?”
Irritated at being so weepy, she swiped at her eyes. “A little. It gets to me. Makes my heart hurt.” If only they could take him home with them. Give him the space and time to heal. Help him over the bumps and kiss his bruises. He needed that. Every child needed sheltering arms.
They fell quiet and were almost home when Levi said, “We should foster him.”
“Wh-what?” She whipped around to him, almost afraid that she’d imagined those words falling from his lips.
“We should foster him,” he repeated. “I’ll ask Dr. McClain to look into if for us. Shouldn’t be a problem. We’re legally married and we have a spare bedroom. Neither one of us has a criminal record.” He shrugged. “What do you think?”
Trudy lunged at him with a cry of pure joy. Her mouth crashed against his and she clung to his shoulders. He grasped her upper arms and chuckled against her lips.
“You like the idea, I take it?”
“I love the idea. And I love, love, love you.” She kissed him again, this time slowly, allowing the feelings to simmer. His lips parted and warmed against hers. “Love you,” she whispered again.
He ran the tip of his tongue along the curve of her upper lip. “Worship you.” He angled back to look into her eyes. “Have you been wanting to foster him for a while? Why didn’t you say something about it before?”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought that you’d nix the idea.”
“No faith in me, huh?”
“It’s not that.” She fingered the collar of his knit shirt. “I wasn’t sure if having him here was something he needed or I wanted.”
“Maybe both.”
She nodded. “I was worried that you’d think having him here would be an inconvenience.”
“It will take some adjustment, but you’ll be good for him.”
“We’ll be good for him.”
Doubt tinged his smiled. “We’ll see. All I know for sure is that he’s had everything good ripped from him. I remember how that feels. Dark, depressing, terrifying.”
She kissed the corners of his mouth, sharing in the sadness of his lost boyhood.
“Getting him out of that place and here at home with us will be a balm for him,” he said, running his hands over her hair in a loving caress. “It definitely could give him some peace and quiet which could help him remember things about that night.”
“I hope so. Did you notice how he mimicked you?”
“No. How?”
“When you turned your ball cap around so that the bill was at the back, he noticed and did the same thing. He was shelling his peanuts and putting the shells in his shirt pocket until he saw you placing yours in your empty drink cup. He followed suit. When you yelled at the umpire, he echoed you. When you ran your hand down your face in frustration when a runner was called out at third, so did he. When you took your cap off and raked your hand through your hair before putting your cap back on, bill in front again, so did Stuart.”
He blinked. “Oh yeah? Huh.”
“He looks to you on how a guy should act. I can’t do that for him.”
“No, but you can show him real, deep, abiding love.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Just as you’ve shown me.”
That love expanded her heart and made her smile. “You make me so happy, Levi.”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “That’s what I’m all about, baby. Never forget that.”
Two weeks later Trudy met Detective Myers at a coffee shop in midtown for an update. She arrived before him and sat in a booth near the front, facing the door. He’d asked to see her and Levi, but Levi was in Los Angeles appearing on a couple of talk shows and a national morning news program.
Flipping through her own records and summaries stored in her electronic notebook, she struggled with her niggling sense of inadequacy. The case was progressing at a snail’s pace. With each passing day, it felt more and more out of their hands. With Levi gleaning next to nothing from his psychic connection with the McFarlands and her brief mental encounters with the killer, the evidence certainly wasn’t piling up. She hoped that the police had unearthed more evidence, but Myers hadn’t sounded enthusiastic on the phone.
When he joined her in the coffee shop, his craggy, world-weary expression didn’t bolster her confidence. He wore a trench coat, which he shrugged out of and draped over the back of the chair before he sat down. His shirt and tie were wrinkled. It occurred to her that each time she’
d seen him, he’d appeared disheveled and tired. She wondered if that was a clever ruse to throw people off guard or if he was too busy to worry about his state of dress.
“It’s good to see you again, Detective Myers,” she said.
He set his paper cup of coffee down and fashioned a semi-smile for her. “Didn’t I tell you to call me Bill? Good to see you, too. Feels like fall out there today. It’s getting ready to pour down rain. Hope you brought an umbrella.”
“I didn’t, and although I’m made mostly of sugar, I don’t think I’ll melt on the dash from this shop to the car.” She set aside her notebook. “Do you have any news on the murder case?”
He chuckled. “Getting right down to it, are we? Okay. Well, we have three men we’re questioning from the information you gave Elana Harper.” He removed folded papers from his inside jacket pocket. “Not that I don’t think the deputy knows her business, but I haven’t worked with her a whole lot, so I’d like for you to look over these notes and make sure everything you told her is recorded here. Don’t want to miss any important details.”
She took the papers from him and smoothed them out on the table top. “So, you’ve narrowed it down to three men?”
“Three of interest, as we say. One of them is a registered sex offender. He’s in his fifties and has been out of prison for nine years. Works as part of a maintenance crew for a real estate company that owns several apartment complexes. The other two have been in and out of jail for a number of offences like attempted robbery, stolen autos, assault and battery, domestic violence, and so on. One is a carpenter who does odd jobs and has worked at a few hotels and the other one is part of a maintenance crew at a tony Buckhead hotel that also has residences.” He motioned toward the notes. “Go ahead. Give them a good once-over. Got mug shots of each one, too.”