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Hot On His Trail

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2019
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Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE

Texas Children’s Hospital

Houston, Texas, 1992

DR. PAULA BENNING, one of Houston’s busiest pediatric cardiologists, stood outside the door of the consultation room, her stomach twisting in dread. She loved every part of her profession—except this one.

A headache throbbed in her left temple, a signal that her blood sugar was low. She knew she should eat something before she broke the news, or at least find a carton of orange juice. But she’d learned early on in her career that delaying unpleasant tasks only made them harder. So she took a deep breath as she reached for the doorknob, then walked inside.

A man and a woman sat on the worn plaid sofa, their faces drawn and their hands clenched together. They looked up at her, guarded hope reflected in their eyes. Dr. Benning glanced hastily at her watch. A signal that she didn’t have time to waste. Get in and get out. In her thirteen years of practice, she’d learned that was the best way to deliver devastating news. Best for her, anyway.

Walt Graham rose to his feet, pulling his wife along with him. “Is Calley all right?”

“She’s in stable condition now,” Dr. Benning confirmed.

“I’ve never been so scared,” Liv Graham confessed, her voice cracking. A petite woman, she looked almost as frail as her daughter. They both had the same wide-set blue eyes and flaxen blond hair. “Calley couldn’t catch her breath and she was so pale. I didn’t know what to do.”

She glanced up at her husband, a detective with the Houston police force. Walt Graham wore his worry in the deep lines etched in his forehead and between his thick, dark brows.

Dr. Benning wished she didn’t know so much about the Grahams. Wished she didn’t know that they’d struggled with infertility for years before they’d finally been blessed with a daughter. Liv Graham, a renowned local photographer, had been past forty when she’d conceived Calley, automatically classifying the pregnancy as high-risk. But she’d delivered a healthy baby girl, then went on to chronicle the first fifteen years of her daughter’s life with incredible black-and-white photographs that had brought Liv recognition throughout the state.

Ironically, one of those photographs of Calley, her golden pigtails flying as she leaped toward the sky, graced a wall in the ICU, where the girl now lay cocooned in a hospital bed, tethered to earth by an IV line and a heart monitor.

Dr. Benning cleared her throat. She’d put off the inevitable long enough. “Perhaps you should sit down.”

Walt Graham ignored her suggestion, his green eyes intent on her face. He stepped forward and curled one large hand around the top of a chair, his knuckles bleached white. “What’s wrong?”

Liv Graham forced a smile, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Nothing’s wrong, Walt. Calley is fine. Right, Dr. Benning?”

“I’m afraid the preliminary tests tell us otherwise.”

The blood drained from Liv’s face. “What do you mean?”

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.
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