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
