Rob kept his mouth full because he didn’t want to rain on her parade by reminding her that the hypnotic state hadn’t confirmed her identity. She’d made an assumption based on the art gallery and feeling at home there.
He hadn’t seen her eat with such gusto since he’d picked her up in the desert, so he swallowed and stuffed another few fries in his mouth.
As they finished up their meal and Rob reached for his wallet, a dark-haired man stormed through the door of the café, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Rob’s muscles coiled, as the man made a beeline for their table.
“Mel!” The man tripped to a stop and made a grab for Libby’s hand, which she jerked away from him.
“Mel, what’s wrong? Thank God I found you. I’ve been searching the hospitals, everywhere.”
Libby put her hands in her lap and hunched her shoulders. “Who are you? My name’s not Mel.”
The man’s jaw dropped open, and his gaze flew from Libby’s face to Rob’s. “What do you mean, Mel? What’s happened to you? Who’s this man?”
Libby swept her tongue over her lips. “My name’s not Mel. It’s Libby, Libby James.”
The man started to laugh and then choked. “What’s going on here? Where have you been?”
“Hold on a minute.” Rob stood up, towering over the shorter man with the ponytail. “Who are you? How do you think you know Libby?”
The man’s dark eyes glittered, and a flush spread beneath his brown skin as he squared his shoulders.
“I don’t think I know her. She’s my wife, and that’s—” he jabbed his finger in the air at a petite Latina holding a gurgling baby “—our baby.”
Chapter Eleven
Libby swiveled in her seat to take in a young woman with an infant clinging to her side. The room spun, and she grabbed the edge of the table. “I—I’m not...”
She lost the words in a haze of confusion and despair, slumping against the vinyl banquette.
“Are you all right?” Rob shoved a glass of water toward her. “Drink this.”
The man with the ponytail braced his hands on the table, leaning toward her, invading her space. “What kind of joke is this? What’s going on?”
Rob held up his hand. “Back off a minute. Let’s take this conversation outside.”
Her so-called husband’s hand formed into a fist, and he banged on the table. “Who are you to give me orders? Why are you with my wife? Where has she been the past two days?”
“I’ll explain everything once we get outside.” Rob tossed some bills on the table. He reached out a hand to Libby under the glare of the man with the ponytail, and then stuffed it in his front pocket. “Are you okay, Libby? Can you get up by yourself?”
The man snorted. “She’s not Libby James, and what’s wrong with you, Mel? Why can’t you move on your own?”
Stepping closer to the man, Rob dipped his head. “She’s been in an accident. We’ll talk outside. Get out of her space.”
Libby grabbed her purse and hitched it over her shoulder, gripping the strap. Rob didn’t believe this man, did he? Because she didn’t...not for one minute.
Her gaze strayed to the sweet-faced young woman bouncing the baby. The girl gave her a shy smile and said, “Hola, Senora Bustamante.”
Libby shook her head and covered her eyes with one hand. She wasn’t married to this man. She didn’t have that baby with him. He hadn’t been in her recovered memories.
As she rose from the table, the stranger put his hand on her back, and she twitched.
He blinked his long lashes. “Mi querida.”
She wasn’t his dear or anyone else’s. She longed to fall into Rob’s arms right now, collapse against his broad chest. But she straightened her spine and walked away from both men, giving the baby a wide berth.
The eyes of the other customers tracked their progress out of the restaurant as Sydney called after them, waving the two twenties. “Thanks, Rob.”
Out on the sidewalk, Rob took charge again. “There’s a park across the street. Let’s get the baby some shade.”
“You took control of my wife, and now you want control of my baby, too?” The fake husband puffed up his chest.
“I’m not taking control of anyone.” Rob dragged his wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m Border Patrol.”
The man’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Is it the drugs? They’re not ours.”
Libby cleared her throat and found her voice. “Stop. Talking.”
“It’s not about any drugs.” Rob curled his fingers into his hair. “There, on the bench under the tree.”
When they got across the street, Rob placed his hand on the young woman’s arm. “Como se llama?”
“Teresa.”
“Sientate, aquí con la bebe, Teresa.” Rob patted the back of the bench, and Teresa sank down, cuddling the baby in her lap.
“Your Spanish stinks.” The man’s lip curled, and Rob rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I know.” He turned to Libby and asked her if she wanted to sit down, with less solicitation in his voice than he’d had for Teresa.
Was he already starting to distance himself from a woman he thought was another man’s wife? But she wasn’t Senora Bustamante. He had to believe that.
She declined to sit and held on to the back of the bench for dear life instead. If Rob believed this man, she didn’t want him framing her story, either. She had to grab hold of this narrative before it careened out of control.
She took a deep breath. “I was in a car accident. I had a head injury and lost my memory but I’ve already been under hypnosis to regain it, and I know I’m Libby James. I’m not married. I don’t have any children.”
“Thank you. That explains it.” The man closed his eyes and placed his hands together. “I’m Pablo Bustamante, and you’re my wife, Melissa Bustamante. This is our daughter, Luisa. We live in Rocky Point, as the American tourists call it, and you work at an art gallery—for Ms. Libby James.”
Libby felt the world tilt again and dug her feet into the gravel beneath her. “I—I don’t know you.”
“Mi querida.” Pablo put his hand over his heart. “That destroys me.”
“Wait a minute.” Rob’s voice, rough around the edges, cut through Pablo’s sadness...or feigned sadness. “What’s your story? Why was your wife traveling in a car by herself up to the US?”
Pablo folded his arms. “We were taking a trip up north. Mel went in a different car to look at some art pieces. We were all going to meet up later in Tombstone, but Mel never showed up. Last I knew, she was heading up to the Paradiso area. When it seemed that her cell phone went dead and she wouldn’t call me, of course I got worried. I came down here to look for her, checked the hospitals, called the police. I couldn’t figure out what happened. Now that you tell me you lost your memory, Mel, it adds up, and I’m so relieved even if you don’t remember me.”
“I don’t.” Libby set her jaw, refusing to look at the sweet baby now tapping Teresa’s face with her little fist. “Wait.”
“Do you remember, mi querida?” Pablo stretched a hand out to her, adding a slight tremor for maximum effect.
“No, I don’t remember, and neither does Luisa.” She leveled her finger at the baby. “She seems much more interested in and engaged with Teresa than me. If I were truly her mother, wouldn’t she be more excited to see me?”
Rob cranked his head back and forth, looking at the baby, a smile lighting up his face. “She has a point there, Pablo.”
Pablo’s eyes flashed for a second when he glanced at Teresa and Luisa. “Teresa is her nanny. This has been an issue between us before, Mel. Besides, this is stupid. Why would I come around and try to claim a stranger as my wife?”
“Good question.” Rob’s eyes narrowed.
“This is ridiculous. You’
re coming home with us, Mel, and we’ll sort all this out when we get there. I’ll introduce you to the real Libby James—your boss.” He lunged forward and grabbed her arm.
Rob reacted with lightning speed, stepping between them and breaking Pablo’s hold on her with a single, swift chop to the other man’s arm.
Pablo gave a strangled cry and stumbled back while Teresa jumped up, clutching Luisa to her body.
As Pablo righted himself, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Don’t try it.” Rob flattened his hand across his body, revealing the outline of his weapon holstered on his hip. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but if you think Libby is going to traipse off with someone she doesn’t know to go God knows where, you don’t know her at all and you sure as hell don’t know me.”
“You can’t keep me from my wife.” Pablo’s lips curled into a snarl, the concerned husband and father disappearing.
“Even if she is your wife, which I doubt, she’ll make her own choices about what she wants to do.” Rob pulled out his phone. “If you want to give me your middle initial and birth date and any other identifying information, I’ll run you and see if your story is true.”
“Run me?” Pablo put his hand on the baby’s back. “You’re Border Patrol. I’m not giving you any information.”
“Better yet, come down to the station with me and we’ll fingerprint you. We should be able to confirm your identity, and then you and...Mel can work things out together, if she wants to. We can even call the gallery and speak to Libby James about her employee.”
Rob shoved one hand in his pocket, as if his request were the most natural thing ever, and wasn’t it? Wouldn’t a distraught husband be anxious to prove who he was?
Pablo said in a low voice, “I’m not doing that. Won’t you just hold her, Mel?”
“Sure.” Libby flipped her hair over her shoulder and held out her arms to Teresa.
The young woman slid a glance to Pablo, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She then peeled Luisa from her body and put her in Libby’s arms.
Libby tucked one arm beneath the baby’s bottom and patted her back, her baby-powder smell tickling her nose. “Hi, precious. What a sweet girl you are.”
Luisa’s dark eyes widened and her bottom lip quivered. She placed her little hands against Libby’s chest and squirmed.
“It’s okay.” Libby stroked the baby’s soft curls. “Are you looking for Teresa?”
Teresa started forward, but Pablo grabbed her upper arm, pinching her flesh.
Libby turned around so that Luisa could see Teresa and immediately the baby started to whimper and kick her legs against Libby’s belly. “I know, sweetie. You want Teresa.”
She poured the baby back into Teresa’s willing arms and spun around on Pablo, her eye twitching. “That’s not my baby. I don’t know who you are or why you want me, but I’m not going with you...or anyone else.”
“Mel! This is not over. I’ll prove you belong with me.”
Libby strode away from the little group under the tree on shaky legs. Rob caught up with her as she crossed the street and grabbed her hand.
“Are you all right?”
“Let’s just keep walking to the truck. I’m going to collapse in the middle of the street if I stop moving.”
When Rob handed her into the truck, she twisted her head over her shoulder. Pablo was waving his arms around and Teresa had sat back down with the baby, who looked as if she were crying. Libby shivered.
Rob slammed the door and gripped the steering wheel. “What the hell was that all about?”
“It’s what I feared from the get-go.” Libby folded her hands in her lap and dropped her gaze. “Someone coming forward claiming to know me. Some stranger taking me away.”
“I’m not going to allow that to happen.” He wedged a finger beneath her chin, tipping up her head. “Look at me.”
She slid her gaze to the left, meeting his dark eyes burning with...some emotion she couldn’t name.
“You’re not going anywhere with anyone, unless and until you want to. You’re not going to take some dude’s word for it that you’re married and have a child if you don’t remember that marriage or that child.”
“C-couldn’t you have arrested him or something?”
“Nothing he did was a crime.” Rob lifted his shoulders. “And while I wanted to punch him in the face when he grabbed you, I would’ve been the one arrested.”
“What kind of a person would use an innocent child like that?” Libby shook her head. “I could tell Teresa, or whatever her name is, was scared out of her wits. Didn’t you think?”
“I think—” Rob cranked the keys in the ignition “—Teresa is that baby’s mother and Pablo was using both of them to lure you into his trap.”
Libby pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “He’s not one of the men at the crash site, though. I’m sure of it—different voice. That means there are more than two. Pablo must be working with the others, and they must know I have amnesia.”
“He wouldn’t have approached you otherwise with that story, but he didn’t seem surprised when you mentioned Libby James and he knew Libby—you—Sorry, this is getting confusing. He knew you owned a gallery.” Rob pulled away from the curb and headed in the opposite direction of his house.
Libby’s heart skipped a beat. “We’re not going back to your place?”
“I’m going to check out the Paradiso hotels first and find out where Pablo and Teresa are staying—and how they registered.”
“Good idea.” She twisted a lock of hair with her finger, let it go and wound it up again. “How did Pablo know I had amnesia? Only you, Jennifer and I know that. Not even Rosie knows it.”
“Maybe they’ve been watching you. If you knew who you were and who they were, you’d report their actions or you’d continue to do what you were planning to do before they waylaid you.”
“They planted those drugs at the accident scene to make sure I didn’t report anything, or if I did, that I’d be arrested for those drugs.”
“You drove up here to Paradiso for a reason—maybe it has to do with that dead body in your memory and maybe not. They stopped you but would’ve expected you to carry on with your mission...if you knew what it was.” He tapped on his window as they rolled up to the Paradiso Motel. “They knew something was wrong when you stayed here and took a job at Rosita’s. Now they know for sure because my guess is that you’re no stranger to Pablo Bustamante.”
She’d accept his explanation for now, but the notion that people who meant to do her harm were watching her in Paradiso did nothing to calm her nerves.
The clerk at the Paradiso Motel didn’t have anyone matching Pablo’s and Teresa’s descriptions staying there, and Libby and Rob didn’t have any luck at the other two hotels, either.
After the visit to the last hotel, Libby climbed into Rob’s truck and snapped her seat belt with a sigh. “At least we tried. I guess we can do a search on Pablo Bustamante, just like we did on Libby James, but I don’t know how much we’ll find.”
“Well, I did get his fingerprints.”
Libby jerked her head around. “You did?”
Rob pulled a pacifier from his pocket. “Like taking candy from a baby.”
“You stole little Luisa’s binky?” She punched his arm.
“Not exactly. It fell out of her mouth onto the ground. Pablo picked it up, left fingerprints and handed it back to Luisa, who promptly dropped it again. Pablo didn’t notice this time, so I scooped it up with a tissue and pocketed it.” He held up his hands. “Don’t get too excited. We could have the same issue we had with your prints. If he’s a Mexican national, his prints aren’t going to be in our database. I have to go through other red tape to get that information, and nothing I’m doing is official at this point.”
�
��It’s a start. I never would’ve thought of that.” She scooted down in the seat. “I’m exhausted. Just when I thought I unwound from my session with Jennifer, I get hit with Pablo. Did he really think I’d just waltz off with him?”
“He obviously thought the baby would be the clincher.” He raised an eyebrow. “She was cute. How’d you resist?”
“Cute? She was adorable, but I knew she wasn’t mine. I had no feeling for her here.” She pounded her fist against her heart. “I’d know. I’m sure I’d remember a baby...or a husband.”
“You’d like to think you would, but who knows?” He slowed down to make the turn to his street. “I knew she wasn’t yours by the way she clung to Teresa and barely looked at you. One of the other agents and his fiancée are adopting a baby, and that little guy is constantly zeroed in on his mama no matter who else is holding him. Luisa didn’t have that for you.”
“I agree.” Libby shot up in her seat. “You have a visitor.”
Rob rolled past the Jeep parked in front of his house and pulled into his driveway. “Friend, not foe.”
Libby blew out a breath and threw open the passenger door before Rob even cut the engine. She could do with more friends and fewer foes.
A tall woman with a thick mane of blond hair and sun-kissed skin stepped out of the Jeep and waved. “Those pants actually look better on you than they ever did on me.”
Libby stumbled and made a grab for the door of the truck. “I know you.”
Rob came around to her side of the truck and hugged the blonde. “I should hope so. This is April Archer, your clothing fairy.”
The adrenaline rushed through Libby’s body, and she swayed on her feet. “No, I know this woman...from before.”
Chapter Twelve
April glanced at Rob, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “Is she okay, Rob?”
Rob lunged back toward Libby, as she listed to one side. He caught her arm and steadied her. “Are you sure, Libby? This is April Archer, Border Patrol agent Clay Archer’s wife. She’s the one who loaned you the clothes.”
Unraveling Jane Doe (Holding The Line Book 3) Page 11
