“Who’s the doc?” She slurped at the black coffee, convinced she’d never taken her coffee black before in her life.
“She’s not a doctor. She’s a licensed therapist and hypnotist.”
Libby dropped the spoon she’d just grabbed from the drawer. “A hypnotist? She’s going to hypnotize me?”
“Why not?” Rob crouched down to pick up the spoon and tossed it into the sink. “What do you have to lose?”
“Not more of my memory. That’s not possible.” She scooped another spoon from the utensil tray and poured some milk into her coffee. “Do you think you can find out who phoned in that tip about the accident?”
“Probably not if it was anonymous, and I gather it was, but I can do some digging.” He slid a couple of eggs onto a plate, alongside two perfectly placed pieces of bacon. “I’m going to do some other digging, too. I want you to know that up front. I don’t want to hide anything from you, Libby.”
“You’re going to dig around in Libby James’s background, aren’t you?” She watched the swirl of milk invade coffee. “Her—my criminal background.”
“If there is one, but like I told you before, your prints didn’t match any we had in the database. I’m also going to make sure nobody has reported you missing.”
“Is there a database that you can check in Mexico?”
“Not that we can access.” He carried the plates to the table and set them down on the woven place mats. “But there are a few other places I can look. Maybe I can arm you with a little more info before your appointment this afternoon.”
“Or you can arrest me.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” He pulled out a chair at the table for her and sank into the other one. He snapped a piece of bacon in two with one hand and watched it fall to his plate.
Her fork hovered over her eggs. “You’re not so sure, are you?”
“It’s not that, Libby.” He popped one half of the bacon into his mouth. “I’m just wondering why someone felt it necessary to plant drugs at the scene of the crash.”
“To shut me up.”
“Then they know you’re alive. How?”
“Maybe El Gringo sent them back to double-check. Maybe he sent them back to show proof of death—a picture of my charred body.” She stuffed some food in her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. After she swallowed and took a sip of coffee, she said, “They didn’t find that proof, figured I walked away and left those drugs in case I got any ideas about ratting on them.”
“Or maybe they’re hanging around Paradiso and spotted you.”
She leaned her fork against her plate, tines down, and folded her hands in her lap. “Thanks. You just ruined my appetite.”
“I’m trying to look at all angles—no matter how ugly.”
“Wouldn’t you recognize a couple of strangers, thug types, wandering around Paradiso?”
Rob choked on his coffee and spit it into his napkin. “Thug types? How do you know they look like thugs? You didn’t even see them.”
“I thought you had superkeen instincts about these things.”
“Did I say that?” He dabbed at the droplets of coffee he’d sputtered onto the table. “Sometimes thugs don’t look like thugs, and sometimes people who look like thugs aren’t thugs. There was a time in Paradiso, before my time, when strangers would stand out, but no longer. Not since the pecan processing plant fired up, thanks to my coworker’s family. The population boomed. We have more tourism. We have more tourists coming over from Tombstone and Bisbee. Now strangers aren’t uncommon. Two guys, Latinos, are not going to make waves in Paradiso.”
“They could be anywhere, watching me, and I wouldn’t even know it.” She stared at a picture of a café on a Mexican street, a green-and-red umbrella shading a couple hunched over a small table.
“What is it? Do you remember something?”
“Just a voice at Rosita’s yesterday, someone in the to-go line. It struck a chord inside, and I panicked for a minute. And then there was a guy on the street in a baseball cap.” She shrugged and picked up her fork. “I suppose those events jarred me because I already realized those men could be on the loose in Paradiso.”
“If they are, they must know something’s going on with you. Why else wouldn’t you have reported the accident, reported them? They wouldn’t be sticking around to drop off a stash of meth if they were worried about that.”
“They must know there’s some reason why I didn’t call the cops after surviving that crash.” She swallowed hard, all out of proportion to the soft eggs sliding down her throat. She didn’t want to think she was involved in dealing drugs. She was sure she wasn’t. Just as she knew she couldn’t be so attracted to the man across from her if she were married, she knew her morals wouldn’t allow her to engage in drug activity.
“The sooner you get through this morning and to that therapist appointment, the sooner we’re going to figure out exactly what’s going on. Once we do, I’ll know how to keep you safe.”
“That’s important to you? Keeping me safe?” She couldn’t meet his eyes, so she drew crisscross patterns on her plate with the fork.
“It’s become my top priority.” Rob pushed back from the table so fast, his foot caught on the leg of his chair and he stumbled. A grin lit up his face. “If I could keep myself safe first.”
Libby showered and dressed in record time. When she joined Rob in the living room, she tugged on the hem of the short-sleeved, dark green T-shirt. “At least my clothes aren’t ripped today.”
“That’s a plus.” He hitched his bag over one shoulder. “If something or someone makes you feel uncomfortable at work, just leave. Rosie will understand.”
She sucked in her bottom lip as she walked out the front door. “I’ll be in a public place. They’re not going to come in and
