Laura shot her an amused glance. “Unfortunately, no one from our team connected with the local sheriff’s department to see if anything unusual was going on tonight. If we had, we’d have been alerted to the possibility of fireworks after the local high school football game.”
Priscilla tried to focus her thoughts on the information being shared, but truth be told, she was just thankful it was only a fireworks show, which meant she—and Luc—was safe.
Laura yawned. “I need some coffee. You want some?”
Priscilla shook her head. “It will just wind me up more. I’m already jumpy.”
“I hear you.” Laura opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, but didn’t pull the door completely closed.
Priscilla sat on the edge of the bed, her limbs still shaky even though the danger had passed. Fireworks to celebrate a football team’s victory—a normal, happy occasion. That was all. She breathed in and out slowly, counting to ten with each inhalation and exhalation.
As she focused on calming breaths, her mind flitted back to the conversation with Luc earlier, and she lost the rhythm of breathing. Her distress over the fight with Luc heightened as she recalled the snippy tone she’d used with him over discovering the dream was an actual memory.
Even as the angry words had poured out of her mouth, she couldn’t deny there was a connection between them, one that had sprung up gossamer thin from the moment she’d met his gaze at the hair salon. Those vivid blue eyes had reached deep into her soul and touched her heart. She didn’t believe in love at first sight—that old trope was trotted out only in fairy tales and romance movies.
Then why did her heart flutter when he was near? That he felt something for her wasn’t in doubt—she just wasn’t sure what that was.
Her phone rang and she grabbed it, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts. A quick check on caller ID revealed Mac was calling.
“Priscilla, are you sure you’re okay?” Mac’s calm voice on the other end of the phone soothed her frazzled nerves.
“I guess I’m still jittery after the fireworks scare.” That was all Mac needed to know. If she were being honest, the anxiousness had more to do with remembering bits of her wedding to Luc.
“That’s understandable. We shouldn’t have been caught off guard about the school activities.” Mac cleared his throat. “I didn’t get a chance to talk with you privately before I had to head back earlier, but I wanted to talk about Dr. Devins.”
“The shrink?” She paced the length of the bedroom.
“I think he’d rather be referred to as a psychiatrist. He has a specialty in hypnotherapy.”
That halted her movements. “Wait—is this the doctor you mentioned a couple of months ago, who might be able to help me recover my memories of that night?”
“Yes, he’s the one. We usually don’t have civilians along on protection details. However, Dr. Devins has been trained by the marshals to accompany agents to safe houses to help interview witnesses who have memory issues.”
“Like me.” Priscilla resumed her pacing. “What’s the plan?”
“For Dr. Devins to have a hypnosis session with you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” Maybe at last she’d remember more than the shooting.
“Priscilla?”
Something about his tone made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. “What aren’t you telling me?” She rubbed her forehead.
“It’s something at the Grammar crime scene.”
She frowned. “The witness Culvert killed.”
“Yes.” Mac didn’t elaborate for several seconds, and the tension in her shoulders tightened. “This afternoon, when the techs returned to finish processing the scene, they discovered an envelope in the mailbox.”
Priscilla was too wired to follow Mac’s train of thought clearly. “If he just died, that wouldn’t be unusual, right?”
Mac paused. “It wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been addressed to me.”
She gripped the phone tighter, not sure she wanted to hear what the envelope contained. “What was in it?”
“A printout of your photo with the words You’re next scrawled across it.”
She nearly stopped breathing even as her heart rate galloped. “When...?” She tried again. “When was it taken?”
“I’ve already shared this with the team at the safe house. Everyone’s on high alert. He will not get close enough to hurt you.” Mac talked fast. “My supervisors agree that you’ll be safer staying put with the extra security than moving you again.”
She refused to be distracted from the question that burned in her mind. “What was I wearing in the photo, Mac?”
“Scrubs. You were wearing the scrubs from yesterday’s trip to the clinic.”
ELEVEN
Priscilla tied her sneakers, then yawned. The brightness of the morning sun streaming in through the venetian blinds did little to improve her mood. The revelation that Culvert had been close enough to her yesterday to snap a photo had her tossing and turning all night. That, and shame at the way she’d treated Luc last night.
The bottom line was that she didn’t remember him, and she wasn’t sure she could trust him. But that was no excuse for being mean. She didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to face anyone, but her stomach growled in protest of hiding out.
The aroma of coffee brewing greeted her as soon as she opened the door. I can do this. She glanced at her shaky hands, then rubbed them on the side of her jeans. A little jumpiness was normal for someone in her situation. The marshals would assume it had something to do with the photograph. No one would tie it to her kitchen encounter with Luc. Had anyone filled him in on the recent findings?
Myers stood with a mug in his left hand outside the kitchen. His head jerked and his right hand immediately went to his holster when she approached. Then he relaxed his stance. “Good morning, Priscilla.”
“I see I’m not the only one on high alert.” She paused in front of him. “Coffee?”
Myers moved out of the way to allow her to pass. In the kitchen, Aldrich fried bacon while Marshal Devins filled mugs with coffee.
“Oh, I need some of that.” Priscilla stepped forward, then noticed Luc tucked into the far corner with his own mug in hand. Their eyes met, but she quickly dropped hers to focus on fixing her mug with one packet of sugar and a dollop of cream. “I’ll get out of the way. Too many cooks and all that.” With a smile of thanks, she scurried out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Dr. Devins sat with his feet propped on the coffee table.
“Good morning, Priscilla.” He straightened. “How did you sleep?”
She settled into the club chair and wrapped her hands around the mug. “Not well, knowing Culvert won’t stop until I’m dead.” She lifted the mug and breathed in the scent before taking a tentative sip. Still too hot for her to drink.
“I can see how that would impact your sleep.” Dr. Devins sipped his coffee. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I feel like I’m dancing on a razor’s edge, and one wrong move will send me sliding down.”
“That’s only natural, given the events of the past few days.” He sat quietly for a few seconds. “The marshals will catch this guy.”
“I know.” But it might be too late.
“Did Mac tell you why I’m here?”
Priscilla nodded. “He mentioned you wanted to hypnotize me to bring back more memories.”
“With Luc in the picture, I think there’s more of a chance that you’ll remember even more details about the shooting and recover the missing hours too.” Dr. Devins regarded her over the rim of his cup. “I understand you’ve tried hypnosis before with no luck.”
“That’s right.” She blew across the coffee surface in her mug to cool it down, then took a small sip. Perfect—nice and rich, just the way
she liked it.
“When was that?”
“It was a year after I entered the program. My previous handler thought it could help make my testimony stronger, but I didn’t remember anything new at all.”
“Luc told me this morning that you remembered something on your own, which is a good sign that maybe your brain is ready to handle the other memories.”
“He told you about the dream?” Priscilla put down her mug with a thunk. That had been a private memory, something she didn’t want to share with anyone else.
Her voice must have been sharper than she realized because Dr. Devins held up a hand. “Whoa there. Don’t shoot the messenger. Luc only said you had a brief memory. He didn’t provide any specific details.”
Priscilla offered a smile. “I have very little of my life that I don’t have to share—with law enforcement—so I tend to be protective.”
“I understand.”
“Do you really think remembering more details is going to help us catch this killer?” She was willing to try almost anything to finally be free from the hiding and lying. The more details she could remember, the better chance the federal prosecutor had of putting Culvert in prison once the FBI captured him. But could hypnosis uncover memories that would help the investigation or only show her she had nothing left to remember? She wasn’t sure which prospect scared her more.
Dr. Devins leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I do. I think you’re ready, probably more ready than you’ll ever be. You just need a little push in the right direction. Are you game to try again?”
“Yes.” She summoned a shaky smile. Now that more was at stake than just remembering additional details about the murders, she was willing to try again. “When?”
“After breakfast?”
As if on cue, Laura appeared in the doorway, a platter of crisp bacon in one hand and a bowl of scrambled eggs in the other. “Breakfast is served in the dining room.”
* * *
Luc stared at his face in the mirror above the bathroom sink, willing his stomach to stop flip-flopping. The inner turmoil was turning his breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast into one soggy mess. The discovery he’d learned over breakfast regarding the threatening note delivered to a dead witness’s house had put a damper on the conversation. Priscilla had been particularly quiet during the meal, whether because of the note, the events of the past forty-eight hours or the upcoming hypnotherapy session, Luc didn’t know. All he did know was that he was nervous about the session and worried about her safety.
Dr. Devins had requested his attendance during the session with Priscilla because the psychiatrist believed Luc’s presence would help shake loose her lost memories, given he had been with her during the pivotal time she needed to recall.
Luc splashed water on his face, then used the hand towel to blot his face dry. He must be calm or he’d rattle Priscilla. The last thing he wanted to do was drive all thoughts of the events leading up to and surrounding their wedding completely out of Priscilla’s mind—forever. This session could lead to the resolution of their marriage, freeing them both. Why that prospect wasn’t as attractive as it had been a few days ago, he didn’t want to think about.
A rap on the door nearly made him drop the towel. He hung it back up and opened the door. Myers stood outside, his face impassive. “Dr. Devins is ready.”
Luc followed Myers to the bedroom where the session would take place.
At the door, Myers turned. “We’ll be right outside this door, and we’ve stepped up patrols around the house.”
Luc nodded. The marshals had dressed in more casual clothes today, allowing their shoulder harnesses and holstered weapons to be on display. Luc hoped the show of force would help Priscilla relax enough for the hypnotherapy to work.
Myers stepped back as Luc opened the door. Priscilla sat on the bed, and Dr. Devins had dragged two of the dining room chairs into the room. The blinds had been closed to block out some of the morning sun.
“Luc, thank you for joining us. Priscilla, please lie against the pillows. Luc will sit in the chair beside you.” Dr. Devins directed Luc to his position. “When I start the session, your job is to be quiet.”
“Got it.” Luc repositioned a chair closer to the bed. He tried not to think about how beautiful she looked.
Priscilla reclined on top of the blankets, her shoulders and head propped up with pillows.
“Good.” Dr. Devins turned off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the light of a single bedside lamp. “Priscilla, would you be comfortable if Luc held your hand during the session? I often find that having physical contact with someone close, or, in your case, someone you’re trying to remember, is helpful.”
Luc looked down at Priscilla, who puckered her brow. For some reason, he hoped she’d say yes.
When she nodded, he didn’t hesitate to reach for her left hand. No wedding ring. Neither one of them had had a ring when they tied the knot—that had been first on his to-do list the following day. He’d planned to purchase two inexpensive gold bands.
Now he lightly held her bare hand, reveling in the feel of her soft skin against his own palm. Lord, let this hypnosis jog her memory about that night. Her disconnected past bothered him more than he let on, but there were bigger issues at stake, such as Priscilla’s need to recall more details about the shooting that could help federal agents recapture Culvert.
Priscilla hadn’t looked at him for more than a few seconds since their argument last night. Today she’d been standoffish around him. He only hoped the memories of those missing hours—hours that included marrying him—would return full force.
Dr. Devins settled into the chair to Priscilla’s right. “Ready?”
Priscilla nodded.
“Good. Now I want you to relax.” Dr. Devins began taking Priscilla through some relaxation methods, instructing her to feel the tension draining from her body.
If Luc was any judge, it wasn’t working. Priscilla’s body stayed as rigid as a board. He imagined she was trying, but her inability to unwind was evidenced by her unyielding hand.
Dr. Devins leaned forward and touched her arm. “Priscilla.”
Her eyes flew open. “Yes?”
“You’re having a hard time relaxing.” Dr. Devins didn’t put it as a question to her. “Is it because you’re afraid it won’t work or that the hypnosis will reveal more than you would like? Those are two very common concerns.”
She bit her lip, a gesture Luc had noted previously when she was fearful. “I didn’t remember anything the first time I tried this. I want it to work but I can’t seem to quiet my mind. Everything’s all jumbled up inside.” She removed her hand from Luc’s and brushed her hair away from her forehead.
“Should I go?” Luc didn’t want to leave, but if his being there meant she couldn’t relax enough to give hypnosis a try, then he would.
“Do you want Luc to go?” Dr. Devins continued to address Priscilla in a gentle voice. “Are you concerned you might disappoint him if you don’t remember meeting and marrying him?”
Priscilla scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible.”
Luc knew just how she felt. He’d entered the hair salon to confront her about leaving him and to ask for an annulment. Learning that she’d witnessed a horrific shooting and had blanked out most of the hours surrounding the incident had put a new spin on the anger and hurt he’d wrestled with over the years.
He had never told anyone in his family about his marriage—how could he when he couldn’t produce a bride?—but he had wanted to tell his grandparents, given his father’s parents had had a whirlwind romance of their own. His own parents had had a short courtship as well.
What he hadn’t explained to Priscilla was that they weren’t complete strangers. As fifteen-year-olds, they, along with a dozen or so other teens and adults, had spent two weeks togethe
r as part of a summer mission trip to the Navajo Nation Reservation in Arizona. Helping to build a community center and playing soccer with the reservation kids had forged a bond between them. He had recognized her instantly when he saw her again at the Last Chance Casino, and she had remembered him as well. With everything that had happened over the past couple of days, Luc hadn’t had time to discuss that mission trip with Priscilla.
That was why he’d not hesitated in asking Priscilla to marry him within hours of meeting her—he’d been sure it was the right response to her losing her job and being banned from the casino. With both parents deceased and no other family around and her rent due the next day, Priscilla was on the brink of becoming homeless and destitute. His own bank account had a healthier margin, and he was slated to start a new job in a week that would more than support himself and a wife. With hindsight, he ruefully acknowledged the idea of rescuing a pretty woman had appealed to his ego and played a larger part in his proposal than he originally admitted to himself.
But it was obvious Priscilla had no room in her life for a relationship, not when she was in witness protection. If only he could keep in mind that his intention in seeking her out was not to rekindle anything, but to extinguish their marriage to free them both.
Luc heaved himself off the chair. “I think I should go. Maybe you’ll be able to relax better.” Priscilla didn’t try to stop him with either a word or a glance.
Dr. Devins clicked his pen. “That might be best.”
Nothing for it but to leave. He walked to the door and opened it but couldn’t resist one final glance back at Priscilla. To his chagrin, her focus was entirely on Dr. Devins, who spoke softly to her in words he couldn’t hear. So much for needing his presence after all.
TWELVE
As the door clicked shut behind Luc, Priscilla’s shoulders slumped. She had been acutely aware of him beside her, the warmth from his hand as he held hers. But her anxiousness from the past couple of days threatened to derail the doctor’s trip down memory lane. Even though Luc had abided by the psychiatrist’s instructions and remained quiet, she sensed Luc willing her to remember more of the past. That unsaid expectation had only added to her tenseness.
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