Dr. Benning motioned them toward the sofa. “Please, sit down.”
They obeyed without protest, walking numbly to the sofa. Dr. Benning had seen that same stoic reaction numerous times before. It was the mind’s defense mechanism for dealing with shock. A mechanism that would fade soon enough. She only hoped she’d be gone before it did. Her headache had spread to the other temple and now threatened to turn into one of her rare migraines.
She pulled a chair close to the sofa and sat down, folding her hands together in her lap. “Calley has a condition called myocarditis.”
Liv Graham shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Myocarditis is an inflammation of the heart muscle,” Dr. Benning explained. “It can be caused by a variety of conditions. However, in Calley’s case, we believe it was brought on by a viral infection.”
“An infection?” Walt frowned. “But she hasn’t been sick.”
Liv clasped his arm. “Last month, remember? She had the sniffles. But the pediatrician told us it was hay fever. He put her on antihistamines. Is that why this happened? Should he have given her something else instead?”
Dr. Benning shook her head. “There’s really no way to pinpoint how this occurred. But there was nothing that either you or Calley could have done to prevent it.”
Denial darkened Liz Graham’s blue eyes. “There must be some mistake. Calley’s always been so healthy. She’s had all her immunizations and never missed her yearly checkup.”
“I’m afraid there’s no mistake,” Dr. Benning said softly.
Walt’s jaw tightened. “How long will she be sick?”
Dr. Benning hesitated. “Myocarditis weakens the heart muscle. Some patients recover while others....” She shook her head. “It’s simply too soon to give you a prognosis.”
“Can’t you do something?” Liv asked, looking confused. “Surgery or medication? Surely something can be done to reverse it.”
“She’s receiving ACE inhibitors to improve her heart function, and diuretics to decrease the fluid retention. At this point, we plan to monitor her condition and see if we can get it under control.”
“And if you can’t?” Walt asked.
“Then we’ll have to look at all the available options and select the best one for Calley.”
Liv shook her head. “That’s not good enough. I need to know what’s going to happen to my little girl. She’s only fifteen!”
“In the worst case scenario,” Dr. Benning said gently, “Calley would need a heart transplant.”
Liv Graham gasped and reached for her husband’s hand. Walt sat silently beside her. At last he looked up and asked in a strained voice, “Are you telling us she could die?”
“We’re certainly not at that point yet,” Dr. Benning assured them. She could see the anger and pain now swirling in Liv Graham’s eyes. The numbness was beginning to fade.
Dr. Benning stood up, more than ready to give the Grahams some privacy. “I’ve ordered some more tests. We’ll talk again after the results are in.”
“Thank you, Dr. Benning,” Walt said stiffly. His wife sat mutely beside him.
Dr. Benning nodded, then walked toward the door. As it closed behind her she could hear the first anguished sobs of Calley’s mother.
“I won’t let her go,” Liv cried. “I’ll never, ever let her go.”
CHAPTER ONE
Ten years later
CALLEY GRAHAM paced across the second floor of the Double G ranch house, ignoring the chirp of the cell phone in her purse. She’d arrived early for her job interview at Finders Keepers—two hours early, as a matter of fact. Patience had never been one of her virtues.
It had been three days since she’d seen their advertisement for a temporary private investigator in the classifieds section of the San Antonio Express-News. And it had only taken her about five seconds to decide this was her opportunity to escape. After a little planning, she’d made a furtive call for an interview.
Her first step toward freedom.
Calley had packed her suitcase this morning, leaving San Antonio before sunrise to avoid detection. Then she’d waited at a coffee shop until it was time to make the short drive to Trueblood, Texas. The housekeeper had let her in the front door and directed her to the offices located on the second floor of the sprawling ranch house.
Finders Keepers was run by Dylan Garrett and his twin sister, Lily Garrett Bishop. With a little research, she’d learned that the ranch had apparently been in the Garrett family for generations. After careers in law enforcement, both Dylan and Lily had returned home to start an agency that specialized in finding missing persons.
Calley closed her eyes, mentally reviewing her job pitch. Unfortunately, graduating from a home study course on private investigation didn’t sound very impressive. So she’d padded her résumé with a degree in criminal justice and listed several cases of freelance investigative work. Thankfully, the confidential nature of this business made it impossible for the Garretts to verify her work experience. She wanted this job too much to ruin her chances by telling the truth.
The sound of a plaintive whine made her open her eyes. At her feet sat a full-grown Irish setter, its big brown eyes gazing dolefully up at her. He raised one paw and placed it on her knee.
She laughed and knelt down, stroking the dog’s silky head. “Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured. “What’s your name?”
The setter scooted closer to her, his eyelids drooping as Calley scratched behind his ears.
“I used to have a dog just like you,” she said, a lump forming in the back of her throat as she thought of Trixie, her cuddly cocker spaniel. Trixie had been gone when Calley had returned from the hospital ten years ago. Her mother had sold Calley’s pet, fearing it might carry too many germs. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, refusing to let the pain of the past overwhelm her. She needed to concentrate on her future. With a little luck, it would start today.
“His name is Shiloh,” a voice said behind her.
She stood and turned to see a young woman with chin-length auburn hair and sparkling green eyes.
Calley stroked Shiloh’s head. “He’s a wonderful dog.”
“And ornery,” the woman said, moving behind the wide oak desk. “He steals the pens off my desk and buries them in the south pasture.” She reached into a drawer and pulled out a box that made Shiloh trot up to her, his tail wagging furiously behind him.
The woman dropped a dog biscuit into his mouth, then shooed him onto a braided rug near the bookcases along the wall. Brushing her hands together, she turned back to Calley. “I’m Carolyn Mulholland, the office assistant for Finders Keepers. Are you here about a case?”
“Actually, I’m here to interview for the job. My name is Calley Graham.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re early. And I guess I didn’t expect you to be so young.”
“I’m twenty-five,” Calley said, then wished she’d bitten her tongue instead. What if the Garretts held her age against her? Maybe she should have added a couple more years to her already fictitious résumé.
“May I get you a cup of coffee or a soda while you wait?” Carolyn motioned toward the minikitchen area behind her desk. “It may be a while yet.”
“No, I’m fine,” Calley assured her. Then her purse began to chirp again.
Carolyn furrowed her brow. “Is that your