“Nice to meet you, Libby. I’m Jennifer Montrose. You can call me Jennifer.”
Rob introduced himself, and Libby’s heart stuttered when he sank into the lone chair in the room. He wasn’t going in with her to hold her hand?
Libby’s eyes flew to his face and back to Jennifer’s. “C-can he come in with me?”
Jennifer said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but we can do this however you want.”
What if she did remember being married to El Gringo Viejo or being a drug dealer or something even worse? Did she really want Rob there to hear it all?
“No, no. Of course not. I just had a minute of panic.” She wiggled her fingers at Rob, who was half out of his seat. “I’m good. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.” Rob winked at her.
Swallowing, she followed Jennifer into the next room, the low lights already soothing.
Jennifer took a seat in a comfortable chair. “If you want to get right to the hypnosis today, you can take the seat across from me.”
“I do. That’s why I’m here. I lost my memory in a car accident, and what I heard from two men after that accident has led me to believe my life is in danger. I have to find out who I am.”
“I got the summary from Dr. Escalante.” Jennifer tilted her head to the side, the gentle smile never leaving her lips. “You told me your name is Libby.”
“Rob and I discovered a few things. I—I have a tattoo on my back, and we think it might be the name of an art gallery in Mexico owned by a woman named Libby James. No pictures, but I have a feeling about it. I also speak fluent Spanish.”
Jennifer nodded. “Thank you for the information. Hypnosis is a deep state of relaxation and has been useful in the past to help people access memories. I’m going to hold up this pen and I’d like you to follow it with your eyes and listen to my voice.”
After several minutes of watching the pen and listening to Jennifer’s soothing voice, Jennifer’s words and the feelings they evoked washed over her. Images floated across her brain—pleasant scenes of the beach and the ocean and a small gallery tucked along a cobbled street, but Jennifer pushed her away from the serenity.
What had she forgotten? What did she want to forget? What made her fearful? Who made her fearful?
The rambling villa on the coast with views forever made her stomach twist. Her feet dragged over the rolling grass. “No!”
She wanted to stop, but Jennifer’s voice prodded her onward.
She drew closer and closer to the object on the grass. Then she gripped the arms of the chair and struggled to resurface.
Jennifer led her back to awareness gently, but Libby’s heart hammered in her chest as her eyes flew open.
“He’s dead. I witnessed a murder.”
Chapter Ten
Rob sat up straight in his chair, his nails digging into the fabric on the arms as he heard a cry—Libby’s cry—from the other room.
She had to go through this alone. There had to be some trauma other than the car crash that had caused her to lose her memory. Was she reliving that trauma now?
Folding his arms, he jammed his fists against his sides. He couldn’t do anything for her. Could he do anything for her if it turned out she was involved with the cartels or El Gringo Viejo?
People could reform. He’d seen it before. Even his brother in prison had repented and was trying to make amends.
The door eased open, and he jumped to his feet. The doorjamb framed Libby, a tissue clutched in her hand, her eyes wide and glassy.
Jennifer hugged her. “I’ll see you next week. If you need to come in before that or give me a call, please do it.”
Libby shuffled toward him and plowed straight into his chest.
He wrapped an arm around her, his mouth so dry he couldn’t form any words.
She mumbled against his T-shirt. “I’ll tell you outside.”
When they walked out of Jennifer’s office, Rob squinted in the sunlight and dropped his sunglasses over his eyes.
Libby blinked, her eyes watering, until he grabbed her cheap sunglasses from the side of her purse and handed them to her. “Put these on.”
She obeyed but seemed out of it. He kept a hand on her arm, not trusting her to make it through the parking lot without getting hit by a car. When they got to his truck, he nudged her inside and she plopped on the seat.
He slid behind the wheel and started the engine to get the AC running. A crease had formed between her eyebrows and she seemed to be staring at something in the distance.
Rob cleared his throat. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
She cranked her head toward him. “I witnessed a murder.”
He caught his breath. “Do you know who it was? Do you know who killed him or her?”
As horrible as the memory was for Libby, a few knots unraveled in Rob’s gut. For a minute he thought she was going to reveal that El Gringo Viejo was her vindictive spouse.
“I saw a man lying dead on the lawn. There was so much blood and I felt so much terror.” She grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his flesh. “You don’t think I did it, do you? Did I kill that man?”
Rob ran his hands along the steering wheel. “Was that your first feeling when you saw the body under hypnosis?”
She shook her head. “I knew he was dead, and I was afraid. Would I be so scared if I were the one who killed him? I felt a dark presence hanging over me, coming for me.”
“Witnessing a murder would be enough to traumatize anyone.” Rob rubbed his chin. “D-did you remember anything else? Do you know who you are?”
“I’m Libby.” Her eyes widened for a second and she flipped down the visor. Scooting forward in her seat, she stared into the mirror. “I know I’m Libby James, Rob. I saw the gallery on a street in Mexico. That part was fine. It felt good...right.”
“Did you remember anything else? The dead guy? His killer? Your...family?” He reached for the bottle of water in his cup holder and chugged it down so fast he coughed.
“Nothing like that.” She traced a finger along her jawline as if drawing her face. “Just feelings, images, flashes of memory. Jennifer said that’s completely normal and that it’s a good sign I’ll recover everything, eventually.”
“Nothing about the car crash or the two men?” His staccato pulse returned to normal. She could handle witnessing a murder, and the fact that it shocked her was a good sign that she wasn’t accustomed to the violence.
“We didn’t go there. Jennifer wanted to lead me back to the events before the crash.” Still watching her face in the mirror, she said, “Do you think that’s why those two men were after me? Because I witnessed a murder?”
“Could be, or...” He pressed his lips together and shifted into Drive.
She jerked away from studying her reflection. “What?”
“We really don’t know, do we? It’s all guessing at this point. Let’s wait for Jennifer.” He pulled forward out of the parking space a little too fast and a car honked at him.
“You can’t do that, Rob. I want all ideas on the table. Jennifer doesn’t want me to wait for her. She wants me to dig whenever I can.” She ran both of her hands across her face. “I’m okay. The whole hypnosis experience was strange. It rattled me, especially when I remembered that dead body on the lawn. But I’m okay.”
“I’m just wondering what you were doing there with a murder victim. Were you also an intended victim? Did the killer hope to get both of you, and you escaped?” He held his breath. If she broke down, he’d have to pull over. If she returned to her semicatatonic state, he’d have to pull over. Hell, he shouldn’t even be driving.
She grabbed her water bottle and shook what had to be lukewarm liquid inside. Then she screwed off the lid and took a sip. “Maybe.”
His gaze slid from the road to her pr
ofile, which didn’t look ready to crumble at all. “You keep talking about this lawn. Where was the man’s body?”
She rubbed her bare arms. “It was on some beautiful, beachside estate—one of those lawns that runs down to the cliffs that drop off to the ocean.”
“Yours?” Uneasiness stirred his belly again. Didn’t much sound like the home of an artist.
“I hope not.” She slammed the bottle back into the cup holder. “I don’t know where it was or who owned it, but that place was pure evil. I felt that as if I were standing on the cliff’s edge instead of sitting on a chair inside a therapist’s office in Tucson.”
“I wish this hadn’t all taken place south of the border. It would be a lot easier to track Libby James if she lived in the US. There’s only so much I can do to research you if you don’t have many records here.”
She clapped her hands together and rested her chin on the steeple of her fingers. “But I am Libby James. I’m sure of that now, and that feels good. Thank you.”
“Me?” He drove a thumb into his chest. “You were more convinced of that than I was. It’s a good thing you got that tattoo. That’s what led us to Libby. We would’ve been lost without Rosalinda.”
She closed her eyes and slumped in her seat. “I feel much better now. I really do. I have a name, a place and a reason why I was on the run.”
“Maybe it’s time to turn this over to the authorities.”
“I don’t have much to give them, Rob, and there are those drugs at the accident scene.” She clasped her hands between her knees. “I don’t want anyone else providing the narrative of my life before I have a chance to remember it.”
With what she could give them now, the cops most likely wouldn’t believe she had anything to do with the drugs in her car. He clenched his teeth. Yeah, they might. When he questioned a suspect, he came in with a healthy dose of skepticism, and Libby’s story sounded outlandish on the surface.
He didn’t know what had happened to that skepticism when he first came across Libby. Maybe it was the fear in her eyes. The story of abuse. Maybe it was the knife she was wielding.
She poked him in the ribs. “Why are you grinning? Are you thinking about my explanation to the cops about what happened?”
“Sort of.”
“I hope you agree it’s too early.”
“I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not ready to do...except eat dinner.” He patted his stomach. “I’m starving, but I can wait until we reach Paradiso.”
“Maybe by then I’ll have an appetite. Seeing that dead man—” she hunched her shoulders and a tremor shook her frame “—was almost like seeing him in person. In fact, it was all so real.”
He stroked her arm with one knuckle. “I’m glad Jennifer helped you. Maybe that session unlocked the door, and the memories will keep flowing.”
“I hope so.” Closing her eyes, she scrunched down in the seat and leaned her head against the window.
Maybe she was trying to access more memories or maybe she was just sleeping. Either way, he left her alone for the rest of the drive back to Paradiso.
She didn’t stir until he signaled to take the exit into town. She dragged her hand across her mouth and blinked. “Are we back yet?”
“Pretty much. Do you want to stop off and change?”
She yawned. “Are you still starving?”
“Ravenous.” His eyes flicked over her body as she uncurled and stretched out.
“Then let’s eat.” She rubbed her chin. “Any drool?”
Just his own.
“No drool. You look refreshed.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you feel better about what you learned under hypnosis?”
“Anything, especially something that doesn’t point to my involvement in the drug trade, is going to make me feel better at this point.” She powered down her window a crack. “Of course, I don’t know who that poor murdered man was.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?” He hadn’t wanted to upset her before by asking any details, but she’d calmed down and those details were important.
She screwed up one side of her face. “He was old. He had gray hair...matted with blood. I couldn’t tell you his height because he was lying on the ground.”
“Latino? White guy?”
“White—gringo.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You don’t think that was him, do you? El Gringo Viejo?”
“That wouldn’t make sense if the two guys were afraid to tell him they hadn’t confirmed your death. If he were dead himself, he wouldn’t care.” He pulled onto Paradiso’s main drag. “Burgers and fries or something more elegant?”
She pinched the material of her khaki-colored capris between her fingers. “Do I look elegant?”
“You look...fine.”
“What if the man in my memory wasn’t dead? What if he were just injured? He could still be El Gringo Viejo.” Straightening in her seat, she pushed the hair from her face. “What if I injured him? That would be motive for him to come after me.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “You’re determined to make yourself the bad guy, aren’t you? Your first impression of the man in your image was that he was dead—murdered.”
“Maybe I thought I’d killed him but didn’t. So, in my memory he’d be dead because I wouldn’t have known any better.”
He pulled the truck up to the curb of the Paradiso Café and cut the engine. “And why would the owner of an art gallery try to kill a drug supplier?”
“Argh, I don’t know.” She drilled her finger in the middle of her forehead. “This is what I come up with when I think about my past. You have to admit, my life has been pretty dramatic up to this point. Also, an American living in Mexico, running an art gallery with a drug dealer after her, has to be an adventurous person. Would you agree with that?”
“I would, but your association with El Gringo Viejo, if there is one, could be purely innocent, unintentional.” He snatched his keys from the ignition. “Look, I know a lot of people in my old neighborhood who were not looking for trouble and got swept up in it anyway. Rocky Point may be a tourist area, but it’s also on the edge of an area controlled by the Las Moscas and Sinaloa cartels. If you wander in the wrong neighborhood, you could be in a world of hurt.”
She cocked her head. “I like that you’re more optimistic about my background than I am. Rob Valdez, you’re an optimist. Despite everything, you’re still an optimist.”
“I’d say I’m an optimist because of everything.” He pushed open the door of his truck. “Let’s eat.”
As usual, she’d hopped out before he could get her door. He still went around to the passenger side of the truck and took her arm as they walked into the restaurant.
Being a little early for dinner, they had their choice of tables, and Rob led Libby to one by the window.
He snatched up two plastic menus from the side of the table as he sat down, sliding one over to her side. “They have more than burgers here, but the burgers are good.”
She trailed her finger down the menu. “A burger sounds good.”
“I’m going to have a beer, too.”
“Me, too.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you sure?”
“Who knows? Maybe if I get rip-roaring drunk, everything will come back to me. Jennifer explained that hypnosis puts you in a deeply relaxed state.” She flicked her finger against the menu. “Maybe beer will do the same.”
Sydney, the waitress, scurried over even though she had just two other tables. “You’re early, Rob.” Her gaze wandered to Libby, but he didn’t feel the need to make introductions. Sydney could get her info like everyone else—from the town grapevine.
He pointed to Libby. “Are you going to order that beer?”
Libby picked out an IPA on draft and ordered a burger with a
vocado.
“Good choice.” He ordered the same beer and a double-bacon burger.
Sydney returned minutes later with two frosty mugs of beer.
Libby planted her elbows on the table. “What am I keeping you from?”
He slurped his drink through the foamy head and asked, “What?”
“You’ve been babysitting me for two days now, got some clothes for me, took me to Tucson. What should you be doing instead and with whom?”
“I told you I didn’t have a girlfriend.” He licked his lips and gulped back more beer.
“You don’t have any friends? Hobbies? Commitments?” She wrapped her hands around her own mug and took a delicate sip, which left foam on her upper lip.
Before he could make a fool of himself and wipe it off for her, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
“I’ve been with the Border Patrol just over a year. I just passed probation a few months ago. I didn’t even live in Paradiso until a month ago. I was waiting to pass probation before making the move from Tucson.”
“You commuted here all the way from Tucson?”
“Just in case I didn’t make the department, I wanted to be in a place where I could look for other work.”
“That’s why your house is so neat. You haven’t been there long.”
“Yeah.” He felt the warmth creep up to his hairline. He’d let her believe that instead of revealing his control-freak tendencies. Maybe that was why he’d jumped on her case. He’d wanted to control what happened to her. Better keep that to himself. The poor woman had enough problems.
“So—” she ran a fingertip along the rim of her mug “—it’s not because you like to control all aspects of your life because you had so little control as a child?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’m telling you. You should hang your shingle right next to Jennifer’s.”
Sydney returned to their table with two baskets containing their food.
Rob pointed a French fry at Libby, attacking her burger. “Hypnosis must’ve made you hungry.”
She circled her finger in the air while she chewed, and then said, “Once I got past the shock of seeing that dead man, I started to feel a lot better. Just confirming that I’m Libby James did me a world of good.”
Unraveling Jane Doe (Holding The Line Book 3) Page 10