“He takes the same medicine as me. So he won’t be scared.”
Daniel felt a chill run through him.
The air in the room smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol.
“Has she seen a doctor?” Daniel asked gently.
Mrs. Whitman sighed. “I tried. But I work two jobs. The appointments never worked with my schedule, and our insurance barely covers anything.”
“So who’s been treating her?”
A small smile appeared on her face. “Brian. Brian Keller. He’s a certified natural health practitioner. He’s been helping us.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door.
A man in his mid-30s stood outside, holding a leather bag.
“Hey, Gina,” he said smoothly — until he noticed the officer.
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