Page 21 of Diagnosis Attraction

“It’s all over your face.”

“Sorry I’m so transparent.”

“Not to most people, I think.”

“I want to ask about that memory.”

She shuddered. “It’s nothing good.”

“Is it something recent?”

Her vision turned inward. “I think so.”

“But you aren’t sure?”

“I’m betting it has to do with that man who was following me. Maybe I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. And the mob is after me.”

“The mob?”

“You have a better explanation?”

“I wish I knew, but the part about your stumbling into something sounds right.” He thought for a moment. “What kind of women.”

“Young and pretty.”

“What race?”

“Why are you asking?”

“You had a memory of an Asian woman before.”

“These were Caucasian.”

“Okay. Do you think it has anything to do with your job?”

“Good question.” She shook her head. “Maybe it would help to try word association.”

“I think we shouldn’t try to push this any farther tonight. You had a tiring day—coming off a mild concussion.”

“Yes, probably pushing to come up with any more answers is a waste of time.”

“I don’t want to leave you and Mrs. Kramer alone with that Wilson guy out there.”

“I think we’ll be all right,” she answered.

“But you took off out the back when the doorbell rang.”

She shook her head. “Yeah. I’m jumpy, but that doesn’t mean it’s logical.”

He wrote down his cell phone number and set it on the coffee table. “Call me if anything worries you. Or if you have any memories.”

“I think the latter’s more likely when you’re around.”

He nodded, looking at her hand. It was so tempting to reach out and touch her. They’d get memories, all right. And a lot more.

She looked up at him and away, and it was obvious again that she knew what he was thinking.

“I’ll tell Mrs. Kramer I’m leaving.”

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