Edge walked over and picked up a framed photo sitting on the mantel. “Is this a picture of Callie?”

Margaret nodded. “That was taken right before her high school graduation. She was so excited. Then two years later, her dad was killed, and Callie was devastated. She’s never really gotten over it.”

“Beautiful girl.” Edge’s blue gaze went to Skye. “She’s blond, but aside from that, she looks a little like you.”

Skye absorbed the backhanded compliment. It shouldn’t have felt important, but somehow it did.

Her thoughts returned to Callie. After her dad married Margaret, his attention had focused on his new family. Skye and Conner slowly fell off his radar. Their mother eventually remarried and moved them to a new town, which brought Skye and Conn closer, but distanced them from their father even more.

Her dad’s death in a car crash two years ago hadn’t affected either her or Conn the way it had her younger half-sister.

“After Thomas died,” Margaret continued, “Callie went to community college for a while, but her grades went from A’s to D’s, and eventually she dropped out. She went to work at the café, but after the first six months, I could tell she was getting bored. Then she met this man Henson. Callie quit her job, and now she’s living off the grid in some church collective out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Did she ever talk about Henson?” Skye asked. “Did she tell you anything about him?”

“She was in awe of him, that’s for sure. I looked him up, and he’s a very good-looking man. Too old for Callie, of course, but undeniably handsome. I’m afraid . . .”

“Of what?” Edge pressed when Margaret broke off.

“I’m afraid her interest in Reverend Henson is some sort of father fixation. Callie worshipped Thomas. I think she might see Henson as a kind of replacement.”

Silence fell. Skye knew the devastating effect of losing a father—a divorce wasn’t the same as dying, but it could be nearly as traumatic to a child.

“I assume you’ve tried to contact her,” Edge said.

“Not after her last phone call. Callie mentioned they don’t allow disciples to communicate with family. Disciples. That’s what they’re called. No communication, and that includes cell phones. At least not for the first six months. According to Callie, Henson says it interferes with their immersion into the spiritual world.”

The words gave Skye a chill. She set her coffee mug down on the table and rose from the sofa. Edge followed.

“We’re going to take a drive out to Blancha Springs and talk to Callie,” Skye said. “We’ll let you know what we find out.”

Margaret walked them to the door. “I really appreciate this, dear. Callie’s a good girl. Right now, she’s just a little confused.”

Perhaps more than a little, Skye thought.

She and Edge walked out to the car. Edge slid in behind the wheel, while Skye belted herself into the passenger seat.

“Well, what do you think?” Edge asked, reaching down to start the engine, which instantly purred to life.