Page 83 of Diagnosis Attraction

“But we know some important things about them. He risked his life treating patients in Africa. She was going up against a man smuggling women in through the port of Baltimore and forcing them into prostitution. That means neither one is selfish—like Mickey and Kira.”

Jake nodded. “Those are good signs.”

In their motel room, after making wonderful love with Matt, Elizabeth finally turned to the baby book she’d brought from Baltimore.

There were records of when she’d first eaten solid food, when she’d taken her first steps, and her first words—“dog” and “doll.”

“My mother was pretty compulsive about writing things down,” Elizabeth commented.

She turned a page, and her hand froze. There was a picture of her standing in front of a building. The sign beside the door said, “The Solomon Clinic.”

Matt stared at the picture. “I guess that must be the place. But what were you doing there? I mean, you look like you were maybe three.”

“Yes. And I don’t know why I went back to the place.”

“But we do know it’s in Houma.”

Clemens, the man snooping in Elizabeth Forester’s house, had gotten into bad trouble. He was in jail, and Harold Goddard didn’t like it, but now he had no choice.

He was certain that Forester and Delano were on their way down to Houma. He checked passenger lists on flights from Baltimore and found nothing. That wasn’t reassuring. It just meant that the couple were being cautious. Probably, they were driving, so no one could track their arrival.

Harold had been thinking about how to protect himself. Now, he put hisplan into action.

When Elizabeth went to sleep, she felt they were finally getting somewhere. She woke with a start in the middle of the night, her whole body rigid.

Matt was instantly awake beside her. Rolling toward her, he pulled her close. “What is it?”

“Someone touched my mind.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, it’s like when you and I communicate without talking. Only it wasn’t you.” She clenched her fist in frustration. “Well, it wasn’t exactly someone communicating with me. They were … probing.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re sure?”

“I didn’t make it up. I felt another mind … skimming mine.”

“You were asleep. You could have dreamed.”

“I don’t think so. But that could be true.”

When she started to tremble, he pulled her closer.

“Something else we need to worry about,” she whispered.

“Was it a man or a woman?”

“I’m not sure. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a woman.”

“Why?”

She laughed. “Because she was delicate … subtle.”

“You don’t think men can be subtle?”

“It’s not the way they normally operate.”

He stroked her arm. “I guess you’re right.”

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