Page 33 of Diagnosis Attraction

“What are you going to do about it?”

He knew she was following all the options running through his head. He couldn’t just rent a car because he’d have to use his credit card. And stealing a car wasn’t in his skill set—or his ethics set, either.

He finally said, “I read a spy novel where the hero changed a letter on his license plate with electrical tape. I’ll see if I can pick some up. Will you be okay with staying here alone?”

“Yes.”

Wishing her answer was closer to the truth, he stepped outside and looked around to make sure nobody was paying him any particular attention, then drove at a moderate pace to one of the fast-food chains that were clustered in the same area as the motel complex. He bought double burgers, fries, and milkshakes because he figured both of them could use the calories.

When he returned to the room twenty minutes later, Elizabeth had dressed and made the bed. She was watching the news again.

“Anything new?”

“No. I guess that’s good.”

“Yeah. Let’s turn it off.”

After setting the food on the table, he clicked the TV off with the remote and sat down. She took the seat opposite.

When he’d taken a few bites of his burger, he said, “I was thinking about why we’re the way we are.”

“So was I.”

“I wonder if there’s something similar in our backgrounds.”

She laughed. “That would be easier if Iknewmy background.”

“Yeah. About all we can tell is that we both felt cut off from other people.” He chewed and swallowed. “Well, I’m from New Orleans. And you said you remember being there.”

She nodded. “That’s not much to go on. But I was thinking the reason could be genetic. Or we could both have been exposed to some chemical—or radiation.”

“Before or after we were born.”

“Did you have any major illnesses?” she asked.

“Nothing special. Only the usual.”

She looked at him. “You said your mom went to a lot of trouble getting pregnant and that she went to a fertility clinic. Do you know where it was?”

“Houma, Louisiana, I think.”

“IVF wasn’t so common thirty years ago. I wonder if her going to the clinic had something to do with it. Which leads to the question, what about me?”

“I don’t know. But I can do some research in the medical databases.”

“Looking for what? I don’t think you’re going to find telepathic abilities. Or more precisely—telepathic abilities triggered by …”

“Physical contact. With sexual relations cementing the final breakthrough.”

“Very scientific.”

He grinned. “I guess a medical background doesn’t hurt.” Sobering again, he added, “Of course, figuring out how we got telepathic powers is not our immediate problem. The way I see it, there are three things we need to do right away. Since we know your name, we can go to your house. That would help you get your memory back. But I wouldn’t suggest doing it until we have a better idea how to protect ourselves.”

“With a gun?”

“With our minds. When that guy was holding a weapon on you, I told you to duck, and you did it. We need to find out if we can do more stuff like that. Not just talk to each other.”

“What else?”

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