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When they reached the other side, she noticed the motorcycle. It was nestled between two scrub oaks, but not even the darkness could camouflage the chrome.

“We’re riding that?” she asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yes.” He slipped his gun back into his shoulder holster, straddled the leather seat and started the engine. “Keep your weapon handy. We just might need it before this is over.”

She nodded. Somewhere behind them, close behind, those men were probably gaining ground. Still, she took the time to eye the motorcycle. “Do you have helmets?”

“No!”

It wouldn’t do any good to point out that riding without helmets was dangerous. He’d no doubt point out that bullets and gunmen were even more deadly.

And he’d be right.

Gabe didn’t try to alleviate her fears. He merely latched onto her wrist and hauled her on the bike behind him. Within seconds, he had the motorcycle rumbling through the night and away from the gunmen.

Leigh quickly learned she had to hang on or fall off, and the easiest thing to hang on to was Gabe. While still clinging to the gun, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek to his back and held on. And she prayed, hoping the God of whichever religion she professed would hear her. Right now, she needed someone of a divine nature on her side.

After all, she was with a man who killed as easily as he breathed, and Leigh knew all too well that he held her life—and possibly even her heart—in his hands.

Chapter Four

Gabe had a lot of questions. And too few answers.

That did not please him.

He was reasonably sure he’d lost the hired guns. Fairly certain he could remember his way down the dirt roads that snaked around the bayou. And he was hopeful he’d managed to save their lives. For the time being anyway. However, he wasn’t at all sure what the heck was going on. Or who’d just tried to kill them.

Still, none of those things occupied his thoughts for long. It was the woman behind him that he couldn’t get off his mind. His wife.

At the clinic, Jinx had ordered him to be nice to Leigh. But that was only the tip of the flipping iceberg. They also wanted him to lie through his teeth. He was supposed to tell her everything was all right between them. That they’d had problems in the past but had worked them all out.

Yeah, right.

Between the lies and being nice, he was also supposed to get her to trust him. Just like that. He was supposed to erase all the bad feelings between them and regain her confidence. He’d have an easier time forgetting that she’d ever been his wife.

However, it didn’t matter if the task was impossible. The Justice Department expected him to give his all. Heck, he’d already done that.

And then he’d made it worse by kissing her.

That shouldn’t have happened. What the devil had he been thinking when he put his mouth on hers? That was just it—he hadn’t thought. He’d acted. Reacted. And much to his disgust, he’d even enjoyed it. He couldn’t let it happen again, not with so much at stake.

Easy to say. Hard to do.

It was especially hard since she was right behind him. She had her arms wrapped around his waist—apparently holding on for dear life. No surprise there. Leigh hated motorcycles.

Of course, she probably hated him, too.

He wouldn’t mention that to her yet. If she was faking this amnesia, then she already knew how she felt about him. If her memory loss was real, it would be a stupid time to remind her of their past.

Gabe drove nearly two hours before he stopped. Until then, he stayed on narrow dirt roads, using only the moonlight to keep him out of the ditches. When he finally found familiar ground, he pulled the motorcycle into a clutter of trees and turned off the engine.

“Any idea where we are?” Leigh asked, climbing off the seat. She massaged her backside and made a few sounds of discomfort.

He got off, too, and stretched. “Between Baton Rouge and New Orleans.” Actually, they were still very close to New Orleans, but he’d taken the most circuitous route to get there. Hopefully, that had given Jinx enough time to get a few things under control. If not, then it would be one long night.

“Are we safe here?”

Gabe glanced around at the dense brush. “Hopefully.”

“You don’t sound hopeful.”

He shrugged. “Guarantees are a rare thing in life, Leigh, but we’re a heck of lot safer here than we were back at that clinic.”

She stayed quiet a moment. “And you don’t believe those men will follow us here?”

“No.” Well, he was almost certain they wouldn’t anyway. Getting to this particular area of the bayou wasn’t easy unless a person knew the way. He knew the way. God willing, the gunmen didn’t.

“So, is this the part when you tell me what’s really going on?” she asked.

Gabe groaned. He didn’t want to play a question-and-answer game tonight. Keep her alive. Catch the bad guys. Oh yeah, and, Be nice to her. At no time had anyone said a thing about answering her questions.

“You know what’s going on,” Gabe briskly assured her. “Some gunmen came after us, and we got away.”

“There’s more to it than that. How about letting me in on who those men are and why they want to kill us?”

“That, mi vida, is the big question of the day.”

“Are you saying you don’t know who’s behind this?” She didn’t wait for him to confirm that. “That breach of security at the clinic didn’t happen by itself. And who’s to blame for that, huh? Who was in charge of guarding the place?”

Gabe spat out some profanity. “The FBI.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Your own people? Well, that’s just great.”

It didn’t exactly please Gabe either, but the breach hadn’t necessarily come from anyone in the Bureau, especially not from Jinx. It could have been an outside source. In other words, he still had nothing definite. Gabe didn’t like that. He wanted something definite.

“Come on,” he insisted. “We need to get moving.”

“On foot?”

“Well, since there’s deep mud ahead, and the motorcycle would get stuck, I don’t see any other way.” And with that, he took her gun, put it in the waist of his jeans and snagged her around the hips. Like a caveman claiming his woman, he tossed her over his shoulder.

“Hey! What the devil do you think you’re doing?” Leigh complained.

Gabe began to walk, keeping the same pace he would have had she not been on his shoulder. “Carrying you.”

She wiggled, squirmed and otherwise tried to twist her way out of his grip. “Put me down!”

“No can do. You have stitches in your ankle, remember? Now, let’s see if I can recall basic first aid.” He pretended to think about it. “By now, those stitches have probably worked their way partially loose, so you have an open wound. Add to that some of this sloppy, wormy mud, and I see the potential for a really nasty infection. What do you think?” He didn’t let her answer. “I don’t have time to take you to the doctor, so be still.”

Just like that, Leigh stopped struggling, and her body practically went limp against him. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that other than traipsing through a swamp, you actually have a plan?”

He made his way around a large cypress tree and its kneelike roots that stood almost a foot above the ground. “I have one, but I don’t feel especially good about it.”

Keep her alive. Catch the bad guys. Nope, he didn’t feel good about that plan at all. It definitely lacked the necessary components for a successful mission.

“It’d be a heck of a lot easier if you just had your memory,” Gabe let her know. “Are you sure you’re not faking this amnesia?”

“No, I’m not faking it. You’ve already asked me that. Besides, why would I fake something like this?”

He could think of a reason. Leigh could be using the ploy so she wouldn’t have to tell him why she’d really returned. “I don’t have an answer to that one either, mi vida.”

She poked him hard on the back. “Don’t call me darling.”

Gabe grinned in spite of his rotten mood. Well, she remembered some of her Spanish anyway, along with remembering that she didn’t like him to use that little term of endearment. And that’s why he’d done it. Maybe he could work it into the conversation again. Numerous times. It might make him feel better if she was as annoyed as he was.

He stopped on a solid patch of ground, deposited Leigh on her feet and pulled back some low branches. Just as he hoped it would be, there was the truck hidden behind the curtain of Spanish moss.

“Thank you, Jinx,” Gabe mumbled and opened the door on the driver’s side. “I owe you another one.”

“Jinx?” she asked. “What does he have to do with this?”

“He left this truck here for us, and he sent that warning over the pager to tell us those gunmen were in the parking lot.” Gabe pulled down some moss and used it to clean the mud off his boots. “We’ll spend the night here and head out at first light.”

Leigh stared at him. “Here?”

“Yes, here.” Gabe motioned for her to get inside. He slapped at a couple of mosquitoes that started to feast on his neck. “And hurry up before these things eat us alive.”

She got in all right, after a loud huff, and she scooted toward the other side to get as far away from him as possible. Even then, they were practically shoulder to shoulder when Gabe joined her.

“Might as well get comfortable,” he told her.

Her eyebrow arched. “You’re kidding, right?”

Yeah. He was. There wasn’t much chance of getting comfortable on a narrow seat with Leigh. Still, it probably wasn’t a good idea to say that to her. It would only start another round of questions.

He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it on the floor along with his holster and all three weapons. “We’ll have to leave the windows up because of the mosquitoes, so it’ll get hot in here. Wanna take off those scrubs?”

She gave him a look that could have withered a new fence post. “Not even if I were on fire and there wasn’t a drop of water for miles around.”

He chuckled and draped his forearm over the steering wheel. “Lie down.”

She glanced at the seat. And then at his bare chest. “You want me to lie down?”

He rolled his eyes. “Hell. Leigh, we’re married. And even if we weren’t, we’d still have to get some rest. That means the seat or outside. I have no intentions of sleeping outside with the snakes and mosquitoes, do you?”

She looked out the window, apparently to weigh her options. Not that she had any options to weigh. She must have figured that out because without a sound, she lay on the seat. With her feet only inches from him, she let her hand dangle over the guns.

Gabe spun her around like a top and put her head right next to his lap.

With her eyes narrowed to slits, Leigh stared up at him. “Is there any particular reason you’re treating me like a prisoner?”

“You bet. I know you too well. Right now, you figure you can’t trust anyone but yourself. You wonder whose side I’m on. In the next hour or so, you’ll start to think you need to get away from me, even at the risk of becoming gator bait. Well, until you figure out I’m the best thing you’ve got going, then I’m staying close. Understand?”

Her mouth twisted as if she’d tasted something sour. “Yes, I understand.” She rolled onto her side, facing the back of the seat. Immediately, she made a strange sound.

“Now what?” he snarled.

“The seat smells like fishing bait.”

Unfortunately, she didn’t smell like bait, but it might have been better for him if she had. Since she was so close, Gabe couldn’t avoid taking in her scent. The smell of the scrubs. Mixed with that was the hint of warm leather from the motorcycle seat. There was sweat, not stale and heavy, but just a hint. And beneath all of that was Leigh’s own unique scent. Distinctively female.

And more than a little distracting.

It was a challenge, but Gabe had to prevent that scent from turning his brain to mush. He forced himself to remember what she’d done. It worked. Until she spoke.

“We don’t get along very well, do we, Sanchez?”

He considered lying. A Justice Department slant on the truth. But there was something in her voice. A plea for the truth, and the truth was exactly what he gave her. “No. We don’t.”

She paused, apparently letting that sink in. “If our situations were reversed, would you trust me?”

Now he’d lie. Except it wouldn’t really be a lie. Yes, their past had been, well, checkered. But if it were a matter of life or death, Leigh would come through for him. Gabe didn’t have to guess about that.

“I’d trust you,” he finally said. “Now, give it a rest and go to—”

“I hate being like this.”

“Sorry, but it’s the best I can offer under the circumstances. I promise, there was a time when you didn’t mind sleeping this close to me.”

“I’m not talking about that. Not entirely anyway,” she added apparently as an afterthought. “I hate not knowing who I am or who you are. You could be an ax murderer, and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

She looked up at him. Gabe looked down and met her gaze in the moonlight. He didn’t want to stare at her, but his body seemed to have a different idea. It was hard not to remember that this was a woman he’d once loved. A woman who’d loved him right back. Then, things had fallen apart.

And that was a whole set of memories he didn’t want to deal with right now.

“I’m not an ax murderer,” he heard himself say. “I gave that up years ago.”

She actually smiled, briefly, but there was a frown not too far behind. “I know nothing about you or me except the few things you’ve let me know. I don’t even know my middle name. I’m too scared to admit I’m scared because I don’t know if I can trust you with that admission of weakness. I’m afraid you’ll use it against me.”

“Leigh.” His voice was gruff. Then it changed. It softened. His hand was already on her hair. It was definitely intimate contact, but he didn’t pull away. Gabe figured he would kick himself for it later. “Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’re scared. And smart. Stupid people are too stupid to be scared. By the way, your middle name is Ann.”

“Ann,” she repeated on a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t even sound familiar.”

Gabe said nothing. He leaned his head against the cool window and listened to the sound of her voice.

“I don’t know what I was. Who I am. You don’t know how frustrating that is.”

Oh yes he did. Gabe knew a lot about frustration. After all, Leigh was right next to him, and more than anything, he wanted to touch her. Maybe even kiss her again. The old wounds stopped him. And the fact she’d probably slap him if he tried to do anything like that. She didn’t know about the old wounds, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

“I seem to know a little bit about a lot of things,” she continued. “Like I knew the clinical name for my amnesia, but I didn’t know you. What was I, Gabe? And don’t you dare say I worked in a bookstore in Austin, because I know that’s not right.”

He debated telling her since the truth would just create more questions. But without the truth, he didn’t stand of chance of tapping into her mind to find out what had gone wrong.

“You were an FBI agent,” Gabe answered. “The last year you were with the Bureau, you were part of the ERT, the Evidence Response Team.”

“Yes.” She nodded. Paused. And repeated it. “Now, that feels right.”

It should. She’d been one of the best. “You resigned after all of this happened with the corrupt government official.”

She pushed out a deep breath. Of relief, maybe. It didn’t feel much like relief to Gabe. Her warm breath dusted his bare stomach. Not good. Maybe he should have risked roasting and kept his shirt on after all.

He inched slightly away from her. Not that he could inch very far without leaving the truck.

“So, I was working for the FBI and came across evidence against this official? Then what happened?” she asked.

“Things resolved themselves. At least we thought they had.” He shrugged. “And then you disappeared.”

Leigh started to come off the seat, but Gabe laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her. That would put her mouth much to close to his. He couldn’t handle that right now. Best to keep as much distance between their mouths as possible. Another of those husbandly kisses was the last thing either of them needed.

“I think you left because of me,” Gabe said, anticipating her next question. “We’d talked about a divorce.” It was the truth, even though it was something Jinx and Walters had ordered him not to tell her. “It’s late. We should get some—”

“You didn’t know where I was all this time?”

Hell, she just didn’t intend to stop. “Sometimes I knew,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t quite catch up with you.”

“Was I ever in Houston?”

“Probably.” And he made a mental note that it was the second time she’d mentioned that particular city. “You’re originally from Dallas. Why? Do you remember something about Houston?”

“Not really. It’s just a place that keeps coming to mind, but I can’t associate it with anything. Houston might mean nothing.” A moment later, she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “I have to ask. Considering our marital problems, just how hard did you look for me during the past two years?”

“I looked,” he said defensively. “You’re the one who walked out. You didn’t want anyone to find you.”

“Apparently someone found me,” she pointed out.

“Maybe. Or maybe you had no choice but to be found. Sometimes things play out that way.”

She stared up at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means you need to get some sleep.” Gabe yawned. Not a fake one either. It’d been a hell of a long day, and he was bone-tired. “Who knows? You might wake up tomorrow and remember everything.”

She didn’t disagree, but the little sound she made wasn’t one of hope. Still, at the moment, hope was about the best thing they had going for them.

Hope that Leigh would regain her memory.

Hope that those gunmen would stop following them.

Hope that he could, somehow, keep her alive.

Chapter Five

Leigh awakened slowly, trying to get her bearings before she moved or even opened her eyes. Her bearings, however, were wrapped all around her. She was on the truck seat cradled in a man’s arms. Gabe’s arms. Her face was buried against his neck, and his musky scent surrounded her.

This was not good. Not good at all. That scent went straight through her like a triple shot of whiskey. Not a memory, exactly. More like a feeling that what they were doing was right.

And wrong.

Quickly but not so easily, she unraveled herself from his snug grip so she could get to a sitting position. The moment she moved, Gabe did as well. He came off the seat, reaching for his gun in the same motion.

Their gazes collided. His eyes were still ripe with sleep, and she saw some of the emotions that he’d kept so guarded, so under control the day before. The concern. The stress.

And other things she didn’t even want to explore.

Leigh took a deep breath. Just who was this man that she’d once promised to love forever? She was almost afraid to find out.

Pulling herself away from that naked gaze, and from his partly naked body, Leigh opened the truck door and stepped out, careful not to put direct pressure on her wounded ankle. She made a sweeping glance around the thick cypress woods. The sun was just rising over a misty-topped bayou, and with the exception of a snow-white egret, they were alone.

Completely alone.

“Are you all right?” Gabe asked.

No, she wasn’t. Reality was even harsher in the early-morning light than it had been in the darkness. She was in the middle of a bayou with a man she didn’t know. She had no memory. And someone wanted her dead. Not the best way to start the day. Oh, and she was scared. Add to that a wicked headache and what felt like an overwhelming need for a cup of coffee, and it didn’t seem she had a lot to look forward to.

Leigh leaned against the truck and tried to catch her breath. “So, what happens now?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

With catlike grace, Gabe slid off the seat and stood beside her. He brought his shoulder holster and gun with him, draping it over his arm. “We try to find out who’s behind this and then get you to a safer place.”

At least he seemed to think that was possible. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Maybe there were no safe places to go.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Still shirtless, the sunlight danced over his deeply tanned chest. And the jeans. God, the jeans. They gloved parts of him that she wished weren’t so gloved.

Those were things she definitely shouldn’t notice.

Still, it was hard not to notice and respond to him since he was an attractive man. Even if they hadn’t shared a past she couldn’t remember, that attraction probably would have still been there.

The attraction.

The emotions.

The uncertainty of their past.

Those things frightened Leigh almost as much as coming face-to-face with the person who’d tried to kill her. Eventually, she would have to remember what had torn Gabe and her apart. Leigh wasn’t exactly looking forward to reliving any of that.

Gabe lifted the lid on the storage bin in the bed of the truck. Muscles flexed as he fished around inside and came up with two bottles of water. “I don’t guess your memory returned overnight, huh?” He passed one of the bottles her way.

Leigh shook her head. No memory. Just a headache and an unwanted physical attraction to the man who leaned against the truck beside her.

She didn’t plan to ask him to put on his shirt. No sense letting him in on the fact there was a whirl of emotions she didn’t understand, or want to feel. Emotions that included a good old-fashioned case of lust. She might not remember Gabe, but her hormones sure did.

He took a long drink of water. “So, nothing about this place seems familiar?”

Leigh looked around again, hoping she’d missed something that would jar her memory. She hadn’t. “No, should it?”

Gabe shrugged. “We spent our honeymoon not too far from here.”

“We had our honeymoon in the middle of a bayou?” she asked, sure that she’d heard him wrong. It didn’t seem the best of locations for that. Or maybe it did. If two people wanted complete privacy, it would be ideal.

Leigh quickly shoved that thought aside.

“We were in a cabin just a couple of miles away,” Gabe added. “We didn’t go there last night because it’s a little too close to the main road.” He stared out at the scenery, and Leigh could almost see the memories going through his head. Memories no doubt of all the things that couples did on a honeymoon.

Oh. Mercy.

It didn’t seem a subject she should press, but it was also one she couldn’t resist. After all, she’d spent two years with this man. “We were in love?”

She saw the muscles stiffen in Gabe’s arms and shoulders. He put the bottle to his mouth, finished off the water and tossed the plastic container in the back of the truck. “Yeah. Once.”

His answer wasn’t just brusque. It was downright chilly. And that chill made Leigh want to know more. However, she didn’t get a chance to delve any deeper into the feelings they’d once had for each other. The slight sound she heard caused her throat to snap shut.

Gabe obviously heard something too because without warning he caught onto her arm and shoved her to the ground. Suddenly, her face, and the rest of her, was in the moist dirt. He followed on top on her, sprawling himself over her back.

Pebbles and other assorted debris dug into her stomach and chest. Other than an involuntary groan caused by the weight of Gabe’s body on hers, Leigh didn’t even have time to react. She heard the gunmetal whisper against the stiff leather holster as Gabe drew his weapon.

All her fears returned in full force. Her heart started to pound. Her stomach twisted into a hard knot. God, she didn’t want to die, and there might be nothing she could do to stop it. She couldn’t even reach for her gun since it was inside the truck.

Leigh tried to look around, to see if there was any real danger. Maybe it was nothing at all—a sound made by some bayou animal or the morning breeze rustling through the trees. But she was almost positive an animal hadn’t made that sound.

“I’d appreciate it a whole lot if you didn’t shoot me,” the man called out. “This shirt is new, and I don’t want blood all over it.”

With that calmly delivered, satirical remark, she felt Gabe relax. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “It’s just Jinx.”

Jinx. That didn’t make her breathe any easier. Gabe seemed to trust the man, but Leigh wasn’t about to dismiss that prickle that crawled up the back of her neck. After all, that breach in security at the clinic had happened on Jinx’s watch.

Gabe lifted himself off her. Not easily. And not before his hand grazed the side of her right breast. Leigh pretended not to notice, but pretending didn’t do a thing to stop her breath from shuddering. If Gabe noticed, he didn’t say anything. Which was just as well. Instead, he caught onto her hand and helped her to her feet.

“What’s he doing out here?” she asked none too pleasantly.

“He owns this place. And the cabin where we stayed on our honeymoon.”

Leigh didn’t have time to react to that, but she intended to give it some thought later.

“Gabe. Leigh,” Jinx greeted, making his way through the ferns and jewelweed toward them. He stopped only inches away and pointed to the path that Leigh had already noticed. “I parked up there. No one followed me, but I covered my tracks just in case. By the way, glad you two made it out of that clinic.”

“It took some doing.” Gabe reholstered his gun. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem.” Jinx’s gaze raked over her. “So, did you get your memory back?”

“No.”

Jinx didn’t respond to that. He simply handed Gabe a plain black gym bag and a small cooler. “That means she can’t help us with that little problem we discussed.”

“What little problem?” Leigh asked.

“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us who tried to kill you,” Gabe insisted.

As critical as that sounded, she was sure there was still a heck of a lot more to it than that. She doubted it was a coincidence that Jinx’s comment had been vague.

Gabe set the cooler in the truck and handed the gym bag to her. “There should be some clothes in here so you can change. Those hospital scrubs are too noticeable.”

He was right, of course, especially since the top had spatters of blood on it. Still, she didn’t think it was a change of attire that Gabe had on his mind. It seemed he was rather anxious for her to leave so he could talk privately with his friend.

Leigh accommodated him. Well, in a way. She stepped behind a large bell-bottom tree about fifteen feet away, but she kept her ear turned toward the men. Unfortunately, the breeze didn’t cooperate, and she could only catch snatches of what they said. She heard something about Agent Teresa Walters wanting them to “come in immediately.”

Without taking her attention away from the conversation, she went through the bag and found a phone, ammunition and a first-aid kit. There was also an envelope stuffed with cash. The only clothes were a pair of very short shorts and a cotton top. No shoes, which meant she’d have to wear the flip-flops a while longer.

Leigh snatched up the phone and turned it on. She’d hoped she would dial something automatically—a number so rote, so ingrained, that it would come to her in spite of the amnesia. That didn’t happen.

Nothing happened.

Apparently, there was no critical phone number lurking in her memory. It was another dead end. That meant she’d have to try to get something out of Gabe and Jinx.

Not good.

She hadn’t had a lot of success in that particular area. So far, all she knew was two years earlier she’d uncovered something dirty about a man named Joe Dayton. Now someone wanted her dead because of that.

Well, maybe.

And maybe it had nothing to do with Joe Dayton at all. Maybe something else had triggered these attacks. Of course, Leigh had no way of knowing because everything was still trapped inside her head.

Frustrated, she tossed the phone back into the bag and peeled off the scrubs so she could change into the other clothes.

“Philip,” she heard Gabe say, making the name sound like profanity.

“You think Leigh will know where he is?” Jinx added another question to that, but Leigh couldn’t catch what he said.

“Maybe. She mentioned Houston in the message she left on my machine.”

Leigh heard that part. Clearly. And again she felt that tug of familiarity. She didn’t know anything about that message she’d left Gabe, but getting to Houston was important. Critical even. Too bad she didn’t know why. Maybe it had something to do with this man named Philip.

So, who was this guy—a boyfriend? But that didn’t feel right.

She bent down to pick up the shorts. And then she saw it. Or rather saw them. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

Three thin, vertical scars were on her stomach, just above the top of her panties. The whitish lines were so faint, so threadlike, that she figured that’s why she hadn’t noticed them when she was in the bathroom at the clinic.

They looked like stretch marks.

That possibility caused her to reach for the tree for support. Stretch marks. God, had she been pregnant? Maybe. Leigh carried that out to its next logical conclusion—had she had a child?

Certainly Gabe would have mentioned something as monumental as that. Wouldn’t he? Leigh gave it more thought. Yes, he would have. There would have been no reason to keep something like that from her.

Well, unless he didn’t know.

But that didn’t make sense either. Like the scar on her arm, these didn’t look fresh. Besides, a woman could get stretch marks for a variety of reasons—weight gain or just plain genetics. Those explanations were far easier to accept than the possibility that she had a child out there somewhere.