“Not really, but as much as I’d like to, I can’t barge in there myself. You have to come along and hope someone recognizes you and hands over your phone.”
“Almost as important as the phone will be this person who knows me. Finally, someone who knows Libby James.”
“But why there?” Rob chewed on the side of his thumb, and Libby slapped his hand.
“Stop that. I’ll be okay—as long as I have you by my side. That’s one thing Libby James does know.”
Rob sped home and changed out of his uniform into a pair of jeans, a dark T-shirt and running shoes.
He pointed to her light-colored capris, filmy blouse and sandals. “You might want to change. It’s a dirty, dusty place out there. Did you happen to buy a pair of sneakers when you went shopping the other day?”
“I did.” She kicked off her sandals and hooked her fingers around the straps, dangling them at her side. “Why? Am I gonna have to make a run for it?”
“You never know out there.”
She changed into clothes appropriate for a quick getaway, and Rob grabbed a backpack on their way out the door. He turned to her when they got to the truck and said, “We’re going out past the site of the wreck. Can you handle it?”
“Do you mean am I going to freak out and have memory flashes that take me back to the crash?” She climbed into the truck. “I hope so.”
Thirty minutes later, they passed the crash site without incident. Libby even tried to remember by squeezing her eyes closed and thinking the calming words Jennifer used to put her in a hypnotic state. Libby opened one eye and rolled it toward Rob. “Nothing.”
He took her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “It’ll come, and this will all make sense.”
“And maybe you and I...?”
“Maybe we will.” He squeezed her hand.
She brought their clasped hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “It’s the only hope I can hold on to right now, Rob.”
When Rob turned off the main highway and the truck kicked up dust and dirt on an access road, Libby swallowed. “Where is this place?”
“Where nobody can find them. It’s like a commune. People go there to drop out and live off the grid.”
“I obviously know someone well enough there to drop off my phone.” She ran her hands down the denim covering her thighs. “I hope that person is there today.”
The desert undulated with one sandy hill resembling another, and the truck bounced and pitched as the road got rougher.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Libby squinted out the windshield, and like a ragtag mirage, a collection of temporary and impromptu houses sprang up in the form of RVs, trailers and cars. “Those came up fast.”
“There’s a reason they chose this spot. Once someone comes over that rise like we just did, they can see ’em coming.”
Libby licked her dry lips. “They’re not going to charge us or anything, are they?”
“No.” Rob hunched over the steering wheel. “But it looks like they’re sending a welcoming committee.”
Libby picked out two motorcycles heading their way, a cloud of sand following them. “Do you want your gun?”
“I’ve got it on me. Don’t worry.” Rob powered down his window and eased off the gas pedal.
One motorcycle veered right and one veered left, and then they both swung around to come up alongside the truck.
Rob slowed to a crawl and stopped, calling out the window at the rider on his side, “Can we help you boys?”
The biker, a tattoo snaking up his neck, shouted over the sound of his rumbling engine. “What do you want here?”
“We’ve come to pick up a phone.” Rob jerked his thumb to the side toward Libby.
The guy ducked his head and nodded. He circled his finger in the air and gunned the bike’s engine, sending a shower of sand and dust into the truck.
The biker on Libby’s side got the message and shot forward, both of them cruising back to the campsite.
Libby coughed and waved a hand in front of her face. “That was easy. I thought we were going to have to take them out for a minute.”
“They recognized you.” Rob rubbed the back of his hand across his nose. “They’ve seen you here before and you must be welcome, or they would’ve tried to stop us.”
“That’s a good sign, right?”
“Excellent sign. We’re in.” Rob followed the hazy air in the path of the bikes to the makeshift campsite.
When they arrived, the two watchdogs had already gotten off their motorcycles and were retreating to some dilapidated RV. Rob parked the truck just outside the official entrance to the compound and cut the engine.
“Just walk in there like you own the place, like a boss.”
“I’ve never felt less like a boss.” Libby hitched her purse over her shoulder, but this time she waited for Rob to come around and open her door. She had no intention of waltzing into that squalid encampment demanding her phone.
Rob took her arm, even though he couldn’t possibly know her knees were knocking together. He whispered in her ear, “It’s okay. We got this.”
As they scuffed into the center of the camp, a woman with cropped gray hair and an armful of tattoos floated out to greet them. She put her arms around Libby and said, “I’m glad you’re safe, my sweet. I have your phone.”
Libby reared back from the woman’s embrace, tears stinging her eyes. “You know me?”
The woman’s gray brows arched over her eyes. “What does that mean? Of course I know you, Libby. Your mother was one of my dearest friends. What’s going on?”
“Ma’am.” Rob held out his hand. “My name is Rob Valdez. Libby ran into some trouble north of the border. Some men forced her off the road. Her car crashed and she lost her memory. We’ve been able to piece together some things, but she has huge holes in her memory—and she’s in danger.”
The woman’s light blue eyes grew larger
