Through His Heart (Mind's Eye Book 3) Page 5

  “For what?” He edged the compact car along the curb and braked.

  She clasped his hand between hers. “For being here when you don’t want to be. For believing in me. For standing by me. For everything.”

  He whistled softly, his eyes rounding. “Whew! I’m pretty terrific, huh?”

  She giggled and the icy coating inside of her fell away. “And modest, too.”

  “Oh, yes. Always that,” he agreed, his expression serious but his eyes full of mischief. “Don’t forget handsome.”

  “Very handsome.” She leaned closer and presented her cheek for his kiss. His lips pressed against her skin and his breath stirred the hair peeking out from her green knit cap. Glancing around, her gaze landed on a white house with a red brick porch and a shiny red door. “What time is it?”

  “Time for your appointment.” He killed the engine. “Did you see all the ‘Missing’ posters dotted all over this place?”

  “Yes. They seem to have a wide network of volunteers who are doing everything they can to help find Rachel.” She noticed her foggy breath. “You should come in with me. You’ll be cold out here.” She knew he’d nix the idea, but she was compelled to put it out there.

  “I’m not cold. I’m going to make some phone calls. I need to check in with the office and get my schedule squared away for the next couple of weeks.”

  She glanced at the house again.

  “It’s the one with—.”

  “The red porch and red door,” she interrupted. His soft chuckle drew her attention back to him.

  “Psyched it out, did you?”

  She grinned at his creative language use. “Yes. I ‘psyched’ it out for myself.” Hiking her purse strap higher onto her shoulder, she released a huff of breath. “Okay. So, here I go.”

  He reached across her to lift the handle and pop open the passenger door. His lips brushed her cheek again. “If she has a brain in her head, she’ll thank everything that’s holy that you’re willing to give her the time of day, much less take on this case.”

  Trudy gave a little shake of her head before she emerged from the car into the biting wind. Snowflakes peppered her face and she dipped her head to keep them out of her eyes as she made her way along the sidewalk toward the house.

  It had begun to snow lightly early in the morning and the north wind had kicked up a couple of hours ago. An inch of snow had accumulated so far and the meteorologists predicted another inch before the storm scampered out of the area. She was glad she’d packed her coat, scarf, knit hat, and gloves.

  A grin poked at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Levi’s arguments against driving the motorhome from Tulsa to Cape Girardeau for this meeting with AmyLynn Comfort. He’d fussed and fumed, but in the end, her logic had prevailed. Why buy plane tickets and rent a car and stay in a hotel when they could so easily pack up her RV for a trip that would only take about seven hours on the road? Whether or not she was hired, they planned to return to Tulsa. If she wasn’t hired, they’d stay in Tulsa and if she was, they’d return to Missouri after she spent another day or two with her family.

  Refocusing her attention on the present, she made her way up the three steps to the wide front porch. As she lifted her hand to knock on the door, it opened and she found herself face to face with Levi’s stepmother.

  Trudy recognized her from photos and the Hour of Comfort television program, but the real life AmyLynn emitted a genuine quality that was in direct contrast to her pile of dyed blond hair, mascara-laden false eyelashes, and enhanced breasts. Although she was smiling, AmyLynn’s features were shadowed by a bone-deep sadness that never lifted, never receded. Trudy had seen this before on the face of every other mother she’d worked with whose child had gone missing.

  A pale-faced woman stood behind her and she made Trudy think of the Mennonites she’d met back in Oklahoma. She wore no makeup and her brown hair was parted in the middle and secured in a braid that was coiled at her nape.

  “Come on in here outta the cold,” AmyLynn said. “You’re Trudy, right? I’m AmyLynn and this here is my mama, Mrs. Hester Sikes.” She reached out, grabbed one of Trudy’s hands, and pulled her over the threshold and into the toasty-warm house.

  Trudy found herself in a large living room with comfortable looking furniture and wall-to-wall beige carpet. Directly across from her, fake logs glowed in a fireplace and a large portrait of Jesus painted on black velvet dominated the wall above it. Momentarily transfixed by the portrait, Trudy found herself recalling a rendition on black velvet of the Last Supper that hung in her grandmother’s house. This image of Jesus was the one that portrayed him as someone you might see in Southern California rather than among the dark-skinned populace of Jerusalem. His light blue eyes were luminous and followed her as she allowed AmyLynn to help her shed her outer garments.

  “Nice to meet you,” Trudy said, nodding at AmyLynn’s mother.

  “This green coat is so pretty!” AmyLynn enthused. “Isn’t it, Mama? Where’d you get it?”

  “Um . . . at a garage sale in Tulsa,” Trudy admitted with a shrug.

  “Really? Why, it looks new!” AmyLynn ran a hand along the sleeve, her long, red fingernails also sporting tiny doves with outstretched wings. “I’ll hang it right here –.” She hooked it onto a coat tree near the door. “Please, have a seat.” She motioned toward the sofa. “Mama brewed us some coffee and we have some of her delicious Mexican wedding cake cookies. Have you ever had them?”

  “I have. I make them every Christmas.” The smile she extended to AmyLynn’s mother wasn’t returned and Trudy realized that the woman didn’t approve of this meeting. Oh, well. Better get used to it, she told herself. Most of the people – if not all – in AmyLynn’s world would look upon her as a phony and a liar. Glancing from one woman to the other, Trudy could see the resemblance and the misery making their eyes red and quivering at the corners of their mouths. AmyLynn was putting on a brave face, but her mother didn’t try to disguise her every dark, worried, fearful feeling.

  Edging toward the sofa, Trudy perched there and accepted a cup of coffee with cream and a cookie sitting prettily on a lacy-edged dessert plate. The coffee was strong and the cookie melted on her tongue. All the while, she was acutely aware of being studied and a tingle of fear was in the air. Were these two women afraid of her? AmyLynn fidgeted and fluttered, serving the coffee and cookies. Fear glistened in her brown eyes, but Trudy sensed it was attached to her missing child. As for AmyLynn’s mother . . . ah, yes. This woman was stiff with fear and her wooden movements and jittery pupils telegraphed that she felt as if she’d invited a demon into her home.

  “Have you seen my baby? She’s alive.” AmyLynn reached out and gripped Trudy’s wrist. “Tell me she’s alive!”

  Trudy set the cup and saucer down with her free hand. “I’ve channeled the man who has your daughter. I’ve seen her and—.”

  If she’d hauled off and slammed her fist into AmyLynn’s gut, she wouldn’t have gotten a more violent reaction. AmyLynn let out a shriek and fell back in the chair while her mother shot up and began babbling, her eyes closed and perspiration dotting her forehead as she swayed side to side.

  AmyLynn’s grip became almost bone crushing. Tears streamed down her face. “You see him now? Where is Rachel? Where? Tell me!”

  “No! No. Not now. And I don’t know where he’s keeping her.” Trudy winced as AmyLynn squeezed her arms. The woman’s dove-bedecked fingernails dug into her sweater sleeves. She’d have bruises tomorrow, she thought. She glanced warily at Hester Sikes, who seemed to have dropped into a trance and was still jabbering incoherently. “That’s what I’m going to find out for you. But I don’t know yet.”

  “Lord Jesus,” AmyLynn whispered, a sob rattling from her. “Thank you, Jesus.” She looked at her mother. “You hear that, Mama? Rachel is alive.” Frowning, she turned back to Trudy. “She’s caught up in the Rapture. She’ll come around soon.”

  “What’s she saying?”

  Amy
Lynn let go of Trudy’s arm and used a napkin to dab at her tearing eyes. “I don’t know. She’s speaking in tongues. Could you tell if Rachel’s in a house or a tent or a hotel room?”

  “She’s in a house, I think. I’ve only been in contact with the kidnapper a couple of times, so I haven’t seen or heard very much yet. But I can tell that I’m closer to him now that I’m in Missouri.”

  “He’s around here? In Cape?” AmyLynn looked toward the windows as if she might see her younger daughter standing out on the porch.

  “I don’t know. I just feel that he’s in this general area.” Trudy sat back on the sofa, mainly to put some distance between her and the other two women. Their reactions had jangled her nerves and she worried that even more odd behavior might erupt. “I want to find your daughter if we can come to terms and you understand clearly what I can and can’t do.”

  Mrs. Sikes suddenly fell silent and plopped back down into the burgundy recliner. She blinked, swallowed hard, and focused on Trudy. Fear and revulsion radiated off her, making Trudy wish she’d agreed to meet AmyLynn anywhere but in Hester Sikes’ home.

  “You okay, Mama?” AmyLynn reached across the space and patted her mother’s age-spotted hand. “You back with us now?”

  Mrs. Sikes nodded, never taking her black as coal eyes from Trudy.

  “Trudy is telling us how she does what she does.” AmyLynn’s smile wavered as she looked from her mother to Trudy. She pulled a tissue from a box on the coffee table and dabbed at her wet cheeks. “As you can imagine, I’m emotional. Sorry. Go ahead. We’re listening.”

  “No need to apologize. I understand.” Trudy reached into her purse and pulled out a sheaf of papers. This was the part that always made her feel uncomfortable – the business part of it. What she wanted to do was put her arms around AmyLynn and give her a big hug. She wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that Rachel would be found alive and well. That’s what she wanted to do, but what she did was unfold the documents with a heavy sigh. “This is my contract. Basically, it states that I will divulge to you everything I see and hear in relation to this case and I will also report my findings to the police or other law enforcement agencies working to find your daughter.”

  “The police, state troopers, and the FBI are all trying to find her and I’ve hired a private investigator, too,” AmyLynn said. “We have hundreds of good people who love us and are putting posters everywhere and posting Rachel’s picture on the Internet and all. But they haven’t turned up even a hair on her pretty head.”

  “The more people looking for her, the better. I can’t promise anything. All I can do is be open to receiving the kidnapper’s thoughts and impressions and collect as much information as I can to assist the police in locating Rachel.” Trudy placed the papers on the table. “This is my contract and my fees. Look them over and then let me know what you decide. Here’s my card.” She handed it to AmyLynn. “My cellphone number is on there. I’m at the RV park and I’ll head back to Oklahoma tomorrow.”

  AmyLynn glanced through the contract. “I’ll call you tonight or in the morning.”

  “That’s fine.” Feeling uneasy under Mrs. Sikes’ unwavering, damning glare, Trudy stood. “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll just be go—.”

  “Did you come here alone or is Levi with you?”

  AmyLynn’s question stalled her and Trudy’s mind whirled for a few seconds before she could form an answer. “He came with me, but he isn’t working on this case. Just me.”

  “John told me that he and Levi have never gotten along.” Her sigh was laden with regret. “It’s sad, isn’t it? Levi being John’s only son and all.”

  His only child, period. The words burned on Trudy’s tongue, but she didn’t want to discuss Levi. It felt like a betrayal. “It was nice to meet you.” She looked in Mrs. Sikes’ general direction. “Thank you for your hospitality.” You judgmental troll! “I’ll be on my way.”

  AmyLynn helped her slip into her coat, then handed over her scarf and hat. “I surely do like that coat. It goes so nice with your green eyes.”

  “Thank you.” Trudy stepped out of the house and moved quickly off the porch and down the steps. She could see Levi sitting in the driver’s seat, his head bowed, probably texting or making a phone call. She gathered in a lungful of the sharply cold air. The crunch of her shoes on the snow was incredibly loud in the stillness of the neighborhood. She tipped back her head to gaze up at the clear sky. It had stopped snowing.

  She pulled open the door and bundled herself inside. It was cold in the car, too. “Oooo, turn on the heater! It’s freezing in here.”

  “Hello to you, too.” Levi started the engine and stabbed at the temperature button a couple of times to crank up the heat. “How’d it go? Did she hire you?”

  “I told her to think it over and call me.”

  “Call you when?”

  “By tomorrow morning.”

  “So, we’re spending the night again.”

  She dimpled at him. “Yes, Levi. Was last night so terrible?”

  “Oh, no. I just love hooking up stinking sewer hoses and using a toilet that’s full of dark blue water that smells like chemicals. And that shower. I barely fit in the damn thing.”

  “You’re such a snob.”

  “I’m not. I simply enjoy the comforts afforded to me in five star hotels and your RV provides none.”

  “What about me? I’m comfortable, aren’t I?”

  His gaze heated her more than the blast of warm air shooting from the vents. “Yes, especially when I’m buried balls deep in you or when I’m wearing your thighs as earmuffs.”

  Facing forward, she pursed her lips to keep from grinning. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “You’re getting wet.”

  “Hush.”

  “You’re already wet.”

  “And you’re completely unaffected by all this dirty talk.”

  “Hell, no. I’m hard as a rock. Want to cop a feel?”

  She batted a hand at him. “Pay attention to your driving.”

  His chuckle was laced with sin.

  “What have you been doing in this ice-cold car?”

  “Answering e-mail. Talking to Darla.”

  “Is Darla able to manage without you?” Trudy teased, knowing that his executive assistant and various vice-presidents were probably more than capable of handling Wolfe Enterprises in his absence.

  “They’re coping, but I do have a couple of personal appearances before Christmas. I’m speaking at a paranormal conference in Sarasota and NBC is doing a story on psychic detectives and I agreed to be interviewed for it. Darla is going to see if NBC can do the interview while I’m at the conference.”

  She shook her head. The man was constantly busy. If he wasn’t refurbishing buildings or repairing houses for the poor through his charity, Re-Home, then he was trekking all over the place as a psychic phenomenon.

  He stopped at a traffic light and looked at her. “So, how was it? Was she nice to you or did she look at you as if you had horns and a forked tail?”

  “She’s nice and terribly sad and scared. Her mother is very strange. She started talking mumbo-jumbo and AmyLynn said that she had been taken by the Rapture.”

  Levi grinned. “Speaking in tongues. Yeah, they do that on the old man’s TV show a lot. Did her eyes roll back in her head and she started shaking like a washing machine on spin cycle?”

  “Not exactly. It certainly was obvious that she wasn’t happy about me being there. I wonder if she’s Mennonite.”

  “She’s hard-core Pentecostal. She raised her kids in that faith, but AmyLynn fell in lust with Caleb Rudd, a randy country boy, and left her mama’s home and her faith during her marriage.”

  “How do you know this?” Trudy asked, giving him a sideways glare.

  “I read up on her when she married my father.”

  “What else do you know about her?”

  One broad shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “Nothing
much. The marriage was on the rocks and she and her hubby began attending the Rev’s services and he counseled them. Next thing you know, they’re divorced and she and the Rev are a couple.”

  Trudy released a whistling breath. “That couldn’t have gone over well with his followers.”

  “Why not?” He arched a brow. “They were both unmarried.”

  “Yes, but he was her marriage counselor and does his congregation look kindly on divorce?”

  His lips stretched into a sardonic grin. “He’s a master at twisting things to suit him. I’m sure he found some scripture to support his actions and his followers went right along with it. When you’re a true believer, you don’t ask questions.”

  “AmyLynn seems charming and friendly. Of course, she’s unraveling. Obviously, she’s desperate or she wouldn’t have tried to contact you or bring me on board.” Gordon MacRae began singing “Oklahoma!” inside Trudy’s purse. Fishing out her cellphone, Trudy stared at the caller I.D. “Huh. It’s AmyLynn.” She shared a surprised look with Levi before she answered. “Hello. Trudy here.”

  “Hi. It’s AmyLynn Comfort. I’ve signed the contract. Can I give you cash for the retainer fee?”

  “Ummm. Yes. Sure.”

  “I have to . . . well, I have to talk to John about this, but it’ll be fine.”

  Trudy heard someone speak in the background. Mama Sikes, no doubt.

  “I know, I know,” AmyLynn whispered, her voice growing distant. “I can handle him. Don’t you fret about it.” A few seconds ticked by before she spoke again, her voice tone normal again. “Sorry about that. Anyway, I’ve prayed over this and the Lord has directed me to place my trust in you. He told me that He will speak through you and tell you where to find Rachel. Could you meet me for breakfast in the morning to finalize all of this? With any luck, I’ll have my baby back in a day or two.”

  Trudy winced. “We shouldn’t go into this with that expectation. As I told you, I can’t guarantee—.”

  “I understand. But the Lord has given me hope that you’re going to lead the police to the horrible man who snatched my baby.” Her voice broke on a sob.