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had gasped with pain and put up her hands.
    “I’m sorry,” Mahoney had said, and she could read the sympathy in his warm blue eyes. “I really don’t want to hurt you. But between us, the doc and I have to sort you out. I have to figure out your past, and she’s working on your future. All we need is a little input from you.”
    “I’m trying,” she said, desperately casting around in the blank that was her mind for any stray memories.“All I can think is that you don’t look a bit like I imagined a detective should look.”
    His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at her. “The leather jacket’s just a disguise to fool the felons, make them think I’m one of them.”
    “They’ll never believe it.” She smiled back. “You look too nice to be a criminal.”
    “You’d be surprised how ‘nice’ a lot of criminals can seem. That’s how they persuade lovely girls, like you for instance, into letting them take them home. Or out on a date.”
    She knew he was angling for a response, and she only wished she could give it to him.
    “Maybe I wasn’t the sort of girl who got picked up in a bar and let a guy take her home,” she said doubtfully. “Do you really think I was that dumb?”
    “No, I don’t. But you sure as hell are pretty. Who knows, somebody might have followed you.”
    He was getting nowhere, and she heard him sigh as he looked down at the yellow pad with only a few brief notes scribbled on it.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I really want to help. I want to know who I am. Maybe I’m not remembering because I feel safer. If nobody knows who I am, nobody will want to kill me.”
    He shrugged as he stood up to go. “Run that one by Dr. Phyl,” he said. “It’s more her line of work than mine. One more thing, though. When we found you, you were wearing light clothing—too light for San Francisco in early March. And the rest of the country was under ice, apart from a couple of hot spots. Maybe you had just arrived from a warmer climate. Mexico? Florida maybe? Or Hawaii? The Far East? I’ve checked the airlines, but you’d never believe how many women travel alone to these vacation resorts and how many flights there are each day. We’re checking them all, individually, but if you happen to dream you are on aflight tonight, just let me know which one it is. It’ll save a hell of a lot of time.”
    He winked cheerily as he went out the door, and she laughed even though it made her head hurt.
    But she still did not recognize her face in the mirror. And she could not recall getting on a plane. And she had not recognized her clothes when he showed them to her.
    She had flinched in horror from the bloodstained T-shirt and sweater, but she had touched the red leather sandal and read the label inside: “Stéphane Kelian, Paris.” She felt Mahoney’s eyes riveted on her as she hesitated, running her finger along the label.
    “Paris?” she said, searching her brain to explain the tingle of emotion she was feeling. But there was nothing, and she burst into tears.
    Phyl had arrived then and practically shoved Mahoney out of the room.
    “Brute,” she called after him down the shiny hospital corridor.
    “Give me a break, Doc,” he cried, backing away, arms outstretched pleadingly. “I’m just a guy doing his job.”
    “Ohhh!”
Phyl was all but speechless, and the girl’s tears had turned to laughter at her outraged face. That was when Phyl had suggested hypnotizing her.
    “We’ve taken every test, tried everything,” Phyl said, “and frankly, we’re getting nowhere. Retrograde amnesia such as yours often responds to hypnosis. But do you think you are ready for it?”
    “Ready to know the truth, you mean? For better, for worse?”
    Phyl nodded sympathetically. “For better, for worse. Either way I want you to know you can count on me for support. Whatever happens.”
    “I know.” The bond between them had grown into friendship over the brief time they had known eachother.