ago. But I don’t know-”
“You don’t know if I was telling the truth,” she finished for him. She looked down at her sandwich for a moment, then folded it in its wrapping paper and stuck it back in the paper bag where they’d put their trash. “Why don’t we head back to the motel and get a little rest?”
He caught her hand, stilling her movements as she started to stand. “It probably wasn’t a lie,” he told her. “You’re probably twenty-six.”
“But you don’t know,” she said sadly. “You don’t know that anything I told you was the truth, do you?”
He couldn’t deny it.
She slipped her hand away from his, picked up the bag of trash and put it in the nearest trash bin. He had to hurry to catch up with her, falling into stride as she reached the sidewalk. “Do you want me to lie to you and tell you I think everything you said was the truth, even what I know were lies?”
She halted, turning to look at him, her eyes narrowed against the bright sun. “No. Of course not. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself. Or whoever it was I used to be.” She sighed, pressing her fingertips to her forehead as if trying to rub away a headache.
He touched her arm, making her look at him. “Let’s just go back to the motel and rest a little while. A nap will do us both some good.”
She didn’t move, even as he gestured for her to join him in resuming their walk back to the motel. He stopped after a couple of steps and turned back to her.
“Do you still think I killed your brother?” she asked.
The question caught him by surprise. He’d had exclusive, private access to her for a couple of days now, and the subject of his brother’s murder had barely come up in all that time.
Did he even think of her as a suspect anymore? Had he ever, really?
Her expression betrayed both fear and hope. “Do you?”
“No,” he admitted. “I don’t think you killed Tommy.”
She released a soft breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a second.
“But you know who did,” he added.
Her eyes snapped open. “So do you. Clint Holbrook.”
He nodded. “I think so. I think you may have seen it happen.”
“I saw it happen?” She looked queasy. “How did he die?”
“He was shot.” Joe closed his eyes, trying not to remember the images of his brother’s murder scene. “If Clint knows you saw it, it could be why he came after you.”
“He could have killed me in the apartment. He could have killed me at the cabin. But he didn’t.”
Joe nodded. “I’d like to know why he didn’t. Wouldn’t you?”
She looked away, her gaze turning toward the mountains to the west of the city. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He wants me enough to kill people to get to me. That doesn’t speak well of me, no matter how you slice it.”
He brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, his breath catching when she turned to him, her lips parted and a question in her eyes. He dropped his hand to his side. “If you don’t want to go to the Lady Luck tonight, we don’t have to.”
She sighed. “No. We should go.” She started walking again, her pace quick and determined.
He followed, his own pace less hurried, his strides just quick enough to keep her from moving too far ahead.
She was right about one thing. Clint Holbrook wanted her enough to kill people to get to her, including his brother. And until they figured out why, neither one of them would be safe.
“SO, YOU WERE counting cards, weren’t you?” As they reached the motel parking lot, Jane broke the silence they’d maintained for most of their walk back to the motel.
Joe shot her a look as they started up the stairs to the second floor. “That would be wrong.”
She grinned at the flicker of amusement in his eyes. “One day in Reno and Cowboy Joe loses all his ethics.”
“Not all of ’em-” He pulled to an abrupt stop as they reached the second floor, catching Jane off guard. She stumbled into him, grabbing his shoulder.
His arm swept back, keeping her tucked behind him. “Can I help you?” he said to someone hidden from her view. Curious, Jane craned her neck to see around Joe’s broad shoulders.
Standing in front of the door to their room was the dark-haired man from her memory flashes. His hair was still long and thick, swept back from his wide forehead in a lush black mane. The silver at his temples had spread to the rest of his hair, streaking the black with liberal strands of white, but there was no doubt he was the man she’d worked for as a shill.
He caught sight of Jane and for a second, his expression reflected a hint of surprise and something a bit darker. But he recovered quickly, greeting them with a nod. “Actually, I think maybe I can help you. The name’s Harlan Dugan. I hear you’re lookin’ for me.”
Joe stepped forward carefully, keeping Jane tucked safely behind him. “Looking for you?”
Jane pulled away from Joe’s grasp. “Do you know me?”
For a second, the man’s expression shifted, revealing surprise. But his mask of calm confidence quickly returned. “I can tell you that,” he said with a broad smile. “For a price.”
“What kind of price?” Joe asked the man blocking the path to their motel room door, jerking Jane’s mind back to the present.
“That can be negotiated,” Harlan said, looking at Jane. He smiled again. “The red hair is new.”
She touched her choppy bob. “It’s normally brown.”
“I remember.” Faint affection glittered in his eyes. “You used to wear it braided all the time.”
“So you really do know me.”
His brow furrowed. “What happened to you, girl?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Amnesia?”
“Can you tell her who she is or not?” Joe growled.
Jane caught his arm, squeezing. He looked at her.
“There’s always a price,” she said, shivering despite the desert sun warming her face.
“I’ve known people like you,” Joe said, contempt in his voice. “I’ve put them all in jail. The Reno police might be interested in your little extortion scheme-”
“Can you risk it?” Harlan countered coolly. “How do you know she’s not wanted by the Reno police? Since she can’t remember who she is.”
Jane let go of Joe’s arm and looked away, another memory dancing just out of reach.
“What’s the price?” Joe asked with a sigh.
“I understand you had some success at the casinos,” Harlan said. “About three grand’s worth.”
“Go to hell,” Joe said, putting his arm around Jane and starting to go around Harlan Dugan.
“Are you sure you want to risk it?” Harlan asked.
Joe stopped within a foot of him. He towered over Harlan Dugan, who was only a couple of inches taller than Jane herself. “What do you mean by that?”
“Someone’s looking for her, am I right?” Harlan looked around Joe, meeting Jane’s eyes. “Someone I don’t think you want to find you.”
Joe grabbed the front of Harlan’s shirt. “Stop it with the games, old man.”
