Hot On His Trail. Kristin Eckhardt

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 phone?”

      “Yes.” Calley reached reluctantly inside her purse and pulled out the small cellular.

      “I’ll give you some privacy,” Carolyn said, misreading Calley’s reticence and walking into one of the inner offices.

      With a resigned sigh, Calley opened the flip phone, hesitated a moment, then switched it off. She couldn’t deal with her mother right now. And she definitely couldn’t tell her about the impending job interview. Not when Liv Graham routinely sabotaged Calley’s bids for independence. All for her own good. Or at least, that’s how her mother saw it.

      It had started when she’d taken Calley out of high school after the heart condition had been diagnosed, claiming it would be easier and safer to home-school her. Then she’d scared away all of Calley’s friends, warning them that if they inadvertently infected Calley with a cold or the flu, they could kill her.

      But it was her mother’s fear that was contagious. It had torn her parents’ marriage apart. Her father was now remarried and living in Florida, leaving Calley alone to deal with her mother’s obsessive love. Liv Graham had been so afraid that her daughter would die that she hadn’t let her live.

      Now that was all about to change.

      If she could get this job. Calley walked over to the polished wooden rail bordering the second floor, wishing she knew what would impress the Garretts. What would make them believe she was the perfect candidate for the job? She looked out over the great room below, noting the massive stone fireplace and the heavy, exposed beams. It looked as if the house had once been smaller, then expanded to accommodate a growing family.

      Was that the answer to her question? Family ties? It made sense, considering Dylan and Lily Garrett had chosen to open a business together and run it out of their old family home. Especially when you considered the focus of the agency—to reunite people with their loved ones.

      Family ties. That was the key. Something she could use to her advantage.

      Even if she believed some family ties had to be broken.

      * * *

      “WE HAVE TO find Matt Radcliffe.” Lily Garrett Bishop sat propped up in bed, several eiderdown pillows supporting her. “He’s the last beneficiary in Violet Mitchum’s will.” She watched her brother pace across her bedroom floor. He hadn’t even heard her. Not surprising, considering he’d been strangely preoccupied since Christmas.

      “Dylan?”

      He stopped and looked up at her. “What’s the matter? Is it the baby?”

      She placed one hand protectively over her swollen belly. Only six months pregnant, she’d gone into premature labor a week ago. Fortunately, the doctors had been able to stop it.

      Her husband, Cole, had been at his ranch, overseeing its sale to his ranch foreman, Manny Peres. He’d rushed home, the ink still wet on the bill of sale.

      Both he and Dylan hovered over her, along with her father. Treating her like a fragile porcelain doll. She’d meekly accepted their coddling at first, terrified that she might lose her baby. But she was feeling much stronger now, and though she had every intention of following the doctor’s orders by staying in bed, that didn’t mean she couldn’t still play an active role in Finders Keepers.

      If only her overprotective brother would let her.

      “Sit down, Dylan,” she ordered. “You’re making me dizzy.”

      He immediately complied, his brow creased with worry. “Are you sure you’re all right? Do you want me to call your doctor? Or Cole? He’s at the construction site, going over those changes in your house plans with the builder.”

      “I’m fine,” she assured him. “And so is your niece or nephew.”

      Dylan reached out one hand and placed it on her distended belly. A small smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “He’s kicking up a storm in there.”

      “Tell me about it,” she said, shifting a little to assuage the slight ache in her lower back. “Although I don’t understand why you’re so convinced it’s a boy.”

      “Because with a kick like that, he’ll make first string placekicker on the Texas A&M football team and give his uncle Dylan free season tickets.”

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