On the Scent

Angela Campbell

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HarperImpulse an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013

Copyright © Angela Campbell 2013

Cover Photographs © shutterstock.com

Angela Campbell asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © July 2013

ISBN:9780007543052

Version 2017-09-28

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Angela Campbell: About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

BONUS MATERIAL

Something Wicked

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

About the Author

Angela Campbell

I read my first romance at 16 and immediately attempted to write one, too. Many attempts (and a couple of decades) later, I finally published my first novel. A mild-mannered newspaper reporter with more than 15 years experience as a general assignment reporter, features editor and graphic designer, I have also worked as a production assistant in TV and film. I now live in the Southeast with my rescue cat. Learn more about my books at www.angelacampbellonline.com.

Thank you to my BFF, Cindy, for encouraging me to follow my dreams. Thank you to my best friends in fur, Dusti, Valentino, Sunny and Ginger, for inspiring the characters who stole this story. Thank you to my amazing critique partners, Jennifer, Pamela and Cynthia, and the many beta readers who offered me their time and feedback. Finally, thank you to Charlotte Ledger for recognizing the potential in this story and helping me bring it to the world.

For the rest of you, please remember to spay and neuter your pets. There are lots of homeless animals at shelters in need of good homes. Please consider adopting one!

Chapter One

“Check this out, bro.” E.J. lowered his voice as he stepped closer. “There’s a real dog out here to see you.”

Zachary Collins paused mid pull-up and clenched his jaw. Dammit, didn’t E.J. know anything about office etiquette? Last thing they needed was a complaint about rude employees to the Better Business Bureau.

“Not appropriate, E.J.” Zach huffed as he lifted his chin up over the bar he’d mounted in the doorway to his office’s private bathroom. His left arm began to tremble beneath the strain. “What’s she want?”

Nine.

Ten.

Done.

He dropped to the floor, shook the slight tingle out of his left hand, and reached for the towel draped across his chair. E.J. leaned back against the closed door and shrugged. “Dunno. She just asked for you.”

He’d known putting E.J. at the reception desk was a bad idea. The kid was too rough around the edges. Too ignorant of the job.

Wiping the sweat from his neck, Zach made his way to his desk. The security monitor on his computer screen showed him the side profile of a dark-haired woman sitting in the waiting room.

Dog? Not from what he could see.

As though she sensed she was being watched, she shifted and looked directly into the corner camera mounted in the lobby. She stared for a minute before she looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching in her lap.

Shit.

It was her.

Zach swore and pounded a fist on his desk. He reached for his phone. “Isn’t Brian around? Kellan?” He punched in his partner’s extension, only to get Brian’s voicemail.

“Sure, but—” Beside him, E.J. tugged at the necktie Zach had insisted he wear and shuffled on his feet. “The lady specifically asked for you and said she’d take her business elsewhere if you weren’t available.”

Slamming the phone back in the cradle, Zach stepped into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face before hurrying to change into his respectable white button-down shirt and black slacks. “Did she say why she wanted to see me?”

The young man scrunched his face. “Nah, man. Just said it was important.”

I’m-here-to-serve-you-papers important? He hoped not.

“Is she alone?” He ran a hand through his thick hair. Not too damp.

“There ain’t nobody with her, but—”

“Send her in.”

Deodorant. Where the hell was his deodorant? He splashed on a dash of cologne instead and hurried to his desk.

Zach’s name might headline the private security agency—hell, his name was the agency—but he took a hands-off approach to handling cases these days. He liked the easy ones. Ones that could be done behind a computer or with a phone call here and there. He’d lost his desire for adrenaline rushes six months ago, right after—

No. Don’t even think about it.

He had no need for that shit anymore. He was strictly in business management now. Safe and easy. That was his new work mantra.

Unfortunately, this woman was not going to be safe and easy for him, and he didn’t have to be psychic to know that.

Reaching for the bottle of antacids in his drawer, he popped one in his mouth. He kept them there for when the bill collectors came snooping around. Or fans, who hadn’t forgotten him yet.

His door opened, and Zach blinked in surprise when a short, stubby-legged, long-snouted golden retriever with beady eyes came trotting into his office. Some kind of mixed breed, or maybe a genetic experiment.

A smile got the better of him. Now that was a cute mutt.

The dog slowly maneuvered its chunky body over to where Zach was standing, wrapped its front paws around Zach’s leg and started humping.

“Hey!” Zach tried to jostle him off, but the little guy was stronger than he looked.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry.” The woman appeared in the doorway, her green gaze wide. She clapped her hands and yelled, “Costello! Down, boy. Down!”

The dog immediately obeyed.

“I’m so sorry. He got away from me.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. She grabbed the leash the dog had been trailing behind him. When she straightened, she held out her other hand. “My name is Hannah Dawson. Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your time, Mr. Collins.”

His vision blurred as his heart thumped a wild beat against his chest.

Just. Stay. Calm.

It took all of Zach’s training not to react as he accepted her handshake. His body jerked in surprise when a furry white and black head popped out of the bag beneath the woman’s arm. The cat let loose a loud yowling meow and took a swipe at his hand.

What the—?

Hannah wrenched back. “Oh, no I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s got into them.”

Uh…

“Abbott, behave.” She zipped the top of the pink mesh bag, leaving a pair of yellow eyes peering at him from behind a see-through front. A growling sound came from the carrier when the woman sat it on the ground.

This was weird, and for Zach, that was saying a lot. In his five years of running Collins Security Firm, he’d never felt so caught off-guard by a situation.

“Miss Dawson?”

She looked at him and nodded.

“Perhaps we could reschedule this for another time when you can leave your—” Zach squinted down at the dog, who was panting happily with its tongue hanging out of its mouth “—pets at home?”

And he could arrange for Brian to meet with her instead. Sweat gathered at the back of his neck. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not her.

“Oh, but I can’t. I can’t go anywhere without them. I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own anymore.” She threw up her hands and looked like she was near tears. “That’s why I need your help. That’s why I’m here.”

She had no idea who he was.

Every muscle in Zach’s body relaxed at that realization. Even so, he skimmed her profile to reassure himself she wasn’t playing him for a fool. Not much had changed. She was in her early thirties, but she looked younger. Long, straight black hair, average height but slim. Well-dressed.

Why the hell was she here if she didn’t know who he was?

She lifted her pretty face, and the vulnerability he saw in her glistening green eyes had him second-guessing his decision to send her away. This woman wasn’t vindictive or crazy. She was desperate.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Sinking into the chair across from his desk, Hannah buried her face in her hands and groaned. She spread her fingers and looked at him. “I seem like a freak, don’t I?” Glancing around his office, she lowered her hand and began petting the dog. “I’m not crazy. I’m just…stressed.”

Nodding, he sank into his cushy office chair. “Before you get too far, I should warn you that our prices aren’t cheap. I offer a free consultation on referral, but—”

“I can pay for the consultation,” she interjected. “And I can afford your services.” She glanced down at the dog. “Actually, they can afford your services. They’re the ones who will be hiring you.”

Another one he hadn’t heard before.

Before he could speak, she snatched the newspaper lying on his desk, turned to a page close to the front and pressed it down in front of him. She tapped the top headline.

Secret heiress leaves $10 million to her cat, dog.

“That’s Abbott, the cat, and Costello is the dog.” She gestured to each animal as she said their names. A picture of the dog and cat posing with an elderly woman accompanied the article. “And if you’d like to take a few minutes to read this, I don’t mind waiting.”

Zach picked up the newspaper and focused on the article, trying to keep his expression rigid, give nothing away. Not easy, since most of the information he read surprised the hell out of him. The elderly heiress had kept her fortune a secret, leaving a trust fund in her animals’ names. A nurse who’d cared for Ellie Parham in her final years had been tasked with minding the ridiculously rich cat and dog.

He guessed the reason Hannah Dawson was here was because she’d become a target for every wacko and get-rich schemer in the region. Her coming to their agency today seemed like an awfully big coincidence, though. How much did she know? What had the old woman told her?

“If you don’t mind my asking, Miss Dawson, why did you choose our firm?” He watched her expression for a nonverbal giveaway.

“I recognized your name. From your TV show,” she clarified, although it wasn’t necessary.

A surprising demographic of people watched reality television—especially the true crime channel that had aired The Psychic Detective until its cancellation six years ago. That this woman had seen his show both surprised and pissed him off. He didn’t like to be reminded of his past.

Shit.

Ten million dollars. Left to a cat and dog. How could he not want a slice of that? There was a past due notice for the office’s lease sitting on his desk right now that could be taken care of by the end of the week with profit from a client like Hannah. He could stop losing sleep for worry of not making payroll.

His mama’s voice whispered through his mind in a childhood memory from Sunday school. Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap, Zachary.

If Hannah Dawson figured out the connection between them, she might pull her business, maybe file a lawsuit against him, expose the psychic detective for the sham he’d been. That was a headache he didn’t need. The smart thing would be to refer her to another agency and cut ties now.

No.

They needed the money too much. It was a risk he’d have to take.

Zach held the folded newspaper up with one hand. “So you’re the unnamed nurse mentioned in this article?” His glance fell to the pink carrier beside her. “And this is the richest cat and dog in America?”

“I think they might be the richest cat and dog in the world, but who knows?” She flashed an endearing smile as her fingers brushed through the dog’s mane of fur. “In her will, Miss Parham named me as their caregiver and also left me a considerable amount of money. She knew I would take care of them—or die trying. It’s that die trying part I’m a little worried about.”

Zachary stood and perched on the edge of his desk before leaning forward. “I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. “Ellie passed away about nine months ago, but the newspaper didn’t pick up on her will until four weeks ago. Some baseball player died, and a reporter came across Ellie’s records in probate while researching that man’s wealth. Anyway, people started calling Ellie’s number and showing up at her place, looking for a handout, so I moved. Yesterday someone broke into my new house and tried to kidnap the boys. That person—”

He held up a hand. “The boys?”

“Sorry. That’s what I call the cat and dog.” She gave her dog a pat on the head before resting her hands in her lap. “Anyway, the person probably would’ve succeeded, but Costello is…quite heavy for such a short dog. Plus, he can be aggressive when he realizes something is wrong. He bit a piece of the man’s pants off before I grabbed my baseball bat and chased the guy away.”

“I see.” She was beautiful and gutsy. He liked that. “How do you know they were there for the cat and dog?”

Her fingers tugged and pulled at each other. “He’d left a ransom note on the table. It said I would be contacted about paying one million to get the animals back alive.” Her eyes glistened, but she blinked away the tears. “I called the police after making sure the boys were safe.”

He frowned. “What’d they say?”

She shrugged. “Not much. I overheard one of the officers saying to the other one, ‘What’s the big deal? Nothing was taken. It’s just a cat and dog. We’ve got better things to do with our time.’”

He rubbed at the tight muscles in his neck.

“Can you help me, Mr. Collins?”

Good question. Could he?

Hannah eased back in her chair and watched Zachary Collins closely, but if this sexy-as-sin man had known her late employer, he was doing a fine job of not giving the fact away.

His face still scrunched, he stood up and moved back to his chair. “Collins Security specializes in helping people safeguard their home. I can get one of my people to come out to your place, arrange an alarm system and teach you some safety precautions.”

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t. Do. It. I mean, really. As if she hadn’t already tried all of that. “I came to your firm because I’m looking for more help than that.” She bit her lip. “And because I would like to hire your services as a psychic.”

There it was. The woman who thought all that supernatural mumbo jumbo was baloney wanted to hire a freaking psychic.

Good grief, had it really come to this?

She expected him to ask, “Why?” but Zachary simply sat back in his chair, rested one ankle on his opposite knee and created a triangle with his fingers. His penetrating gaze never wavered from hers.

“You want me to communicate with the animals?”

A rush of air escaped her lungs. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, wondering if she should tell him everything or stick to the story she’d rehearsed on the way over here. “Like I said, I’m familiar with the show you did several years ago, and even though your website didn’t advertise your services as a psychic, I thought —”

“—that I could get inside their heads and tell you what they want from you? Are they happy? That kind of thing?” Not exactly, but she would use the excuse. Hannah nodded.

Lord, she almost hoped he wasn’t psychic, or else he’d see right through her and know exactly why she was here.

Ellie’s attorney had relayed to Hannah a cryptic message from the will. These animals are the key to my past. Only they know the truth. When you’re ready to hear it, they’ll tell you.

O-kay. Tell her what? Better yet, tell her how?

Mixed in with the instructions Ellie had left for Hannah had also been a brief scribbled note and a clipped article from a magazine. When I die, hire this man to help you. The torn and tattered old article had been a brief story previewing an upcoming season of The Psychic Detective. A publicity shot of Zachary Collins with his thick, dark hair, square-jawed masculinity, and eyes so blue they’d reminded her of the Georgia sky on a sunny day had taken up most of the page. His charisma in print had packed such a wallop, it was easy to understand why the man had been cast in his own TV show. Who the heck cared if he was psychic or a detective? The man was gorgeous.

Hannah had assumed he was only an actor, but Zachary Collins was a legit investigator. His website announced he’d opened an agency in Atlanta a little over five years ago. Licensed, bonded, and he’d come highly recommended by the Georgia Board of Private Detectives and Security Agencies when she’d called this morning.

Okay. Psychic plus detective. Hannah wasn’t stupid. Ellie had obviously thought this guy could communicate with Abbott and Costello and—what? How had Ellie known Hannah would need protection? Because of the money?

“I was hoping you could use your, you know, psychic abilities or whatever it is you do, to help me talk to the boys. Is there anything they need to tell me?” She shrugged and tried to look sheepish as she waited to see if he’d pass her test and freak her the heck out by saying something along the lines of “Abbott said to tell you that Ellie had a detailed journal describing her life as a Mexican drug lord hidden in the floorboard of her bedroom.”

Hannah needed that kind of proof to believe this guy could read minds, furry, human or otherwise.

His cobalt eyes captured hers, and whoa mama, she practically melted in the chair from the intensity of his stare. Tugging the collar of her shirt away from her neckline, she squirmed in her seat and looked away.

“I don’t communicate with animals, Miss Dawson,” he said. “My psychic abilities aren’t specialized to pet readings.”

“I understand that.” She might as well be panning for gold when it came to figuring out why Ellie had wanted her to hire him—well, other than the old woman had lost her mind—but the only thing different about him from the other private investigators she’d researched was that he claimed to be psychic. “I’d hoped you might be persuaded to try, or perhaps you can recommend someone who does talk to animals? I’ve got the money. I can pay whatever it takes.”

“I read people, not animals, but—” He seemed to hesitate. His eyes held hers. When he finally leaned forward and turned his gaze to the dog stretched out on his office floor, the tension she’d been feeling for the past few days loosened its grip on her muscles. “I sense that they’re still grieving. They miss their former owner, but they are quite happy with you. I’d dare say grateful.” He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid there’s really not much else to tell you. Animals are pretty simple-minded creatures. People tend to think they’re much smarter than they really are.”

Oh, really? Hannah crossed her arms and studied him to see if he was feeding her a line of BS. Costello knew exactly when eight o’clock was each day without looking at a clock—it was his feeding time—and Abbott could open doors and cabinets like it was nothing.

Oh, no. This man was obviously a quack. Zachary Collins had one helluva poker face though. She snuck a look down at the bag containing the cat. Abbott had also awoken her when the person trying to kidnap Costello had been wrestling with the dog.

The cat’s yellow eyes peered up at her with a sardonic expression. Almost as if the animal was thinking, Are you buying this crap?

She focused on Zachary again. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.” Smiling, Zachary leaned forward. “As I said before, I have a couple of qualified men who can help you secure your home. If you’re looking for a bodyguard to provide around-the-clock protection, I can arrange that, too.”

Around-the-clock what? Lord have mercy, that sounded expensive.

Abbott’s loud meow drew her attention. She straightened her shoulders and focused on the reason she was here. “They really aren’t telling you anything else?” Anything about Ellie I should know?

Zachary seemed to stare at the wall, his eyes unfocused and glazed. “I’m sorry. Like I said…”

“Simple-minded. Right.”

Well, crap. She was back in what-the-heck-do-I-do-now territory. How did a person find a legitimate psychic, if such a thing existed?

Costello made a low growling sound as he began to wiggle around on the carpet. The dog’s stubby paw batted at her foot playfully. His tongue lolled to one side, and he panted. So maybe Zachary Collins had a point. Still, she’d thought it might be worth a try. She’d never felt so desperate for help in her entire life, and that was really saying something.

She felt so alone in all of this.

Someone had broken into her home, after all.

“Do you think I need a bodyguard?” The thought of someone following her around twenty-four hours a day kind of creeped her out.

“Do you live alone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you involved with anyone?”

She felt her shoulders tense again. “No. Why?”

“Any friends who could stay with you?”

Her best friend might, but Hannah didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, especially Sarah, who was studying hard to earn her IT certification. “No.”

“Then I would say yes, at least for a temporary period, while you’re still the focus of media attention.” He reached for his phone and asked someone if Brian was available yet. After a brief exchange, he replaced the receiver. “I’ve requested my partner to come in and meet you. He’s a former Marine as well as a trained police officer with a few years of experience on the force. If anyone can offer the protection you need, it’s him.”

The door opened and a good-looking, square-jawed man with a military cut poked his head in. “You wanted to see me, Zach?”

Zachary nodded, and Hannah stared when the other man’s body came into full view. Muscular would have been an understatement. The burly man she assumed was Brian looked more suited to a gym than an office.

“Brian Burns, meet Hannah Dawson.”

“Call me Hannah.” Standing, she held her hand out to the man and was relieved when his grip didn’t crush her fingers.

Zachary briefly explained the situation. “If you feel comfortable with Brian, we can arrange a trial period where he shadows you to make certain he’s a good fit. He can also assess what your needs are while he’s there.”

“You won’t even know I’m there.” Brian half-smiled at her.

“Uh, okay.” She crossed her arms again. “Is the trial period free?”

Zachary flexed his hands and exchanged looks with his partner. “The first day will be on us. After that, it’s $200 an hour.”

“An hour?” Talk about pricey.

Zachary shrugged. “For first-time clients with good credit, we do offer a slight discount that would bring it down to $175 an hour.”

Better, but still pricey. It took Hannah a minute to remember that she could easily afford that now. Total craziness. She nodded. “Okay. I suppose that’s alright. When can you start?” Maybe they weren’t staffed with amazing psychics, but they seemed to be reputable security specialists. Right now she needed protection, for her and the animals.

“Give me an hour to get a bag packed.” Brian reached for the door and, with a strange look in Zachary’s direction, disappeared. Hannah returned her focus to the handsome man who, not least, made her secretly glad her dear friend Ellie had chosen this firm over all the others in Atlanta.

“While he’s gone, we can take care of some paperwork, okay?”

She took a deep breath, grateful she wasn’t being turned away. And a tad bit disappointed she wasn’t going to be protected by The Psychic Detective himself.

Chapter Two

Hannah peeked over her shoulder to make sure the guy who was going to be her shadow for a while had actually heeded her request and hadn’t followed her inside. She punched in the security code to disable her new alarm.

His back was turned to her in the doorway, and he wasn’t even looking inside. Wow. A man who actually did what she told him? Where had this mythological creature come from? “Just one more minute please.”

Freeing the animals from their leash and bag, Hannah hurried to pick up the bras, socks and other laundry scattered throughout the living room. Not to mention the dirty plates, empty cups and candy wrappers. And cat and dog toys.

She normally wasn’t a slob, but since moving, everything had been in chaos, including her mind. She seemed to prefer lounging on the sofa, watching old black and white movies that made her cry, and sharing buckets of ice cream with the boys to being her usual neat-freak, health-nut self.

Girl, you have got to get it together.

She eyed the still unpacked boxes with regret—she’d really had plenty of time to unpack by now, hadn’t she?—and wrestled with two armfuls of clothes. It all went flying into the laundry room, barely missing the curious cat that had followed her. The door made a much louder sound than she expected when she slammed it shut. Hannah cringed, and Abbott shot her a dirty look once he stopped his mad dash down the hall to get away from her.

The noise caught Brian’s attention, too, and Hannah smiled at him as she hurried back into the living room.

“Okay,” she said. “All clear. I had to, um—” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder as she struggled for a reasonable excuse. “Clean up the mess Costello made before we left.”

A strange whining sound came from the dog now sitting against her foot, and Hannah scanned down to see him looking up at her, his head cocked kind of funny. She squished her face up in apology and told him mentally, Sorry, boy. You know, just in case he’d understood her.

Brian reached down and gave the dog a friendly rub on the head. “Don’t worry, fella. We’re all a little messy sometimes.”

But he was looking at Hannah when he said it.

Glancing around, he asked, “How did the intruder get in?”

She tucked her hands in the back pocket of her trousers and sighed. “The police seemed to think he disabled the security alarm first, then came in through the French doors in back.”

“So he probably gained entry through the back yard,” he concluded. “Is it fenced?”

“Of course.”

Hannah hung back and watched as Brian inspected every window and door. He disappeared outside for a while, then returned holding a small piece of wire in a handkerchief.

“They were right about the security system, but they missed some evidence. Do you have a plastic bag?”

Seeing the piece of wire shot a zing of panic through her motionless body. This had really happened. Someone had actually been in her home. She really had beaten off a wannabe kidnapper with the old baseball bat she’d taken from Miss Parham’s attic.

“You okay?” Brian asked, and she shook herself, feeling slightly dazed.

“There are some bags in the kitchen.” Her fingers fumbled with opening the drawers, and Hannah swore under her breath. “The alarm company came out and repaired the alarm this morning, so it’s okay, right?” When she passed the plastic bag to him, Brian wasn’t smiling. “What?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Miss Dawson.”

“Hannah,” she reminded him.

“Security alarms are great at scaring off amateurs, but against people who really know what they’re doing, you’re wasting your money.” He looked sincere. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have one, but considering your situation, you really should take extra precautions.”

She slid her hands into her back pockets again. “What kind of extra precautions?”

His stone-faced expression relaxed a bit. “Contacting us was a great start. I’ve got a few ideas we can work on—” He reached for the buzzing phone belted at his hip, frowned and told her, “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”

Hannah leaned back against the counter and felt something furry press against her bare arm. Abbott, the darn cat, had jumped up on the counter again and rubbed his black and white head against her elbow. He circled around and got her from the other side too. She guessed that meant he forgave her for giving him a scare earlier, so she picked him up and gave him a proper petting in apology.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she’d do without the cat and dog these days. Her little boys. She had a feeling she’d be ridiculously lonely without them.

They were her everything, which could mean only one thing.

She was a crazy cat lady. Well, crazy cat lady with a dog. Or maybe there was another name for her. Crazy…pet fanatic?

“Don’t panic!” Brian exclaimed from the other room. Abbott tugged away, demanding to be set on the ground again, and darted into the living room. Hannah followed Abbott, and Costello followed Hannah.

One thing was immediately obvious. Her massive muscle of a bodyguard was weak on his feet. She hurried forward the same second he reached out a hand to steady himself against the back of the sofa, only to crumple to the floor anyway. He never let go of his phone, though, and as Hannah knelt beside him—his color was pale and the pulse at his wrist was unusually high—he told the person on the other end, “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”

He pressed END on the phone and immediately began hyperventilating.

What the heck was going on?

Hannah checked his pulse again and then reached out to feel for his temperature. “Breathe slow,” she told him. “Deep breaths. Release. Good.”

Costello jumped up and began humping the leg that was sprawled out in front of Brian. “No.” Hannah told the dog, shoving him away. “You’re not helping.”

The dog sat back so his chunky body was gathered around his back feet. She shot him an I-can’t-believe-you look and shook her head, but the always-content canine opened his mouth and grinned.

“Are you having chest pains?” Hannah reached for Brian’s phone and began dialing 911. “Nausea? How’s your vision?”

Brian’s hand reached out and stopped her. “No.” He shook his head, looking dazed. A gleam of sweat glistened along his forehead. “I think maybe…panic attack?” He shook his head. “I’ve never had one before, but I’ve had friends who have.” He reached for her shoulder and tried to press himself up.

“What happened?” Against her better judgment, she helped him rise to his feet.

His fingers were trembling when he reached for his phone again. “My wife’s water just broke.”

“Oh.” As his words sank in, she felt him begin to tilt sideways and circled her arm around his back to keep him from falling again. Geez, the guy was heavy. My wife’s water just broke. “Ooooh.” She’d seen this before. First-time father. Panic attack.

Hannah had only worked in labor and delivery during her student nurse rotations, but she’d seen enough to know Brian wasn’t the first tough guy to go down when labor began.

Brian stumbled around, and as his human crutch, Hannah stumbled around with him, the cat and dog dodging their footsteps. Hannah groaned. Where was a camera when you needed one? She didn’t have a monitor handy, but she suspected Brian’s blood pressure was dangerously low due to shock. She needed to get him seated and calm as soon as possible.

Propping her bodyguard against the wall, Hannah reached for her purse, hustled Abbot into his carrier and grabbed Costello’s leash. Then she wrestled the three-ring circus out of her living room and into her car.

She prayed they’d all make it to the hospital in one piece.

Zach clenched his back teeth to keep from saying something that would land him in a lawsuit or worse. He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his desk and fisted his fingers.

“You want to tell me that again?” His voice was terse.

Kellan Murphy met his gaze unflinching across the desk. For the last three years, Zach and Brian had considered him their next-in-charge, the most dependable guy on their team, a leader for the others.

“You’re quitting on us?” Zach clarified.

“I didn’t say that.” Red crept up Kellan’s neck and colored his cheeks. He looked away. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I swear. It just happened. I thought you should know.”

Zach didn’t know how the hell sleeping with a client “just happened.”

At least the other man hadn’t sugar-coated things. Kellan had walked into his office, told him he’d gotten a job offer as a full-time bodyguard to their highest-paying client, an actress on a popular TV show filmed right outside of Atlanta. And by the way, Zach, I’ve also been sleeping with her for the past few weeks.

Zach popped another antacid into his mouth. This was exactly the kind of shit that had nearly tanked the agency. Regulars took a particular liking to one of their workers and stole them away along with the fees they’d been paying the firm directly. They’d lost good men and reliable income because their contracts hadn’t incorporated the proper penalty fees.

Oh, yeah. They’d suffered a sharp learning curve that first year of business, but things had gotten better, much better, once they’d found their stride. They’d hired a whip smart manager to run the business side of things while they’d focused on getting the job done. Then bam. Things had started to go to hell in a handbasket again.

Zach had taken himself out of the field after what had happened in Kirkwood. Then Gillian, their business manager slash receptionist, had gotten pregnant and left them to be a stay-at-home mom. A national chain had moved into their turf, specializing in cyber security along with traditional private investigations, and Collins Security Firm had started losing business. Too much business.

The few savings Zach had from his time on TV had already gone into purchasing vehicles and equipment. If he couldn’t somehow turn things around, and soon, they’d have to close the doors in three months, tops.

His attention swung back to Kellan. Sleeping with a client? The ex-cop should know better. It was career suicide. Eventually the actress would get tired of sleeping with him and fire his ass. Then where would he be?

“Does she understand we can sue her for hiring you away from us? It’s in her contract, and yours.” Zach reached into the bottom desk drawer where he kept his most important documents, including copies of the contracts with all of the firm’s highest-paying clients. As soon as the drawer opened, his gaze fell on a file labeled DYLAN at the front. All it held was the birthday card he’d bought years ago but was too much of a coward to mail to his little brother—not that he even knew his brother’s address anymore.

Another reminder of what an epic failure Zach was.

“Sue her?” Kellan sounded surprised. His face lost its color. “Are you gonna fire me?”

Zach was tempted, but he needed the asshole on staff too damn much. “I assumed you were quitting to take the job with your girlfriend. What would be the point of firing you?”

Shoving his brother’s folder out of mind, he checked the actress’s contract to make sure it was still valid for a while yet. Luckily, it was. Even if she broke it now, the agency would still get paid for another four months, plus a penalty fee. But then?

They were screwed. They needed to convince Kellan to stick around so she would, too.

Kellan shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d—” His words fell short as he turned and paced toward the opposite wall. Hands on his hips, he turned and faced the desk again. “I’m sorry, Zach.”

“I think we need to revisit this conversation when Brian can be here, don’t you? Dammit, Kellan.” Zach pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t need this right now. Go do your job, and get out of my sight. We’ll talk about this later.”

Kellan hesitated, as if he wanted to stay and finish it now, but he must have sensed it wasn’t a good time to push his luck. The office door shut behind the tall blond man, and Zach picked up his phone.

Instead of Brian’s deep voice, a familiar feminine one answered his call. “Zachary! Oh, thank goodness. I was trying to find you in his contacts,” Hannah said, and then in a calm voice informed him she was driving to the hospital with his partner passed out cold in the seat beside her. “Can you please check on his wife to make certain she’s taken care of? Her water broke about ten minutes ago, and this guy is in no condition to go get her.”

When Zach reached the hospital, Brian was waiting—in a wheelchair, no less—in a room with his wife, Jenny. Their newest client was nowhere in sight.

“The nurses told me Hannah left after they got me conscious,” Brian muttered. “Damn, I owe that woman. Bigtime.”

Zach tried calling the number for her he’d programmed into his phone earlier. She sent him to voicemail. Shit. This wasn’t their day for retaining customers, was it?

“Maybe you could head over and check on her,” Brian said. “Apologize for me.”

Any other time, and he would have already been on his way. “No way, man. I’ve been looking forward to this. I want to be here when your kid is born. I’ll go see Hannah later.”

“At least see if Kellan can go keep an eye on her place in the meantime. Tell him to be discreet.” Brian rubbed his forehead. “There was someone following her earlier. A black car. Tinted windows. Georgia license plate, but I didn’t make the numbers.”

Zach swore beneath his breath and punched in Kellan’s number. His conversation with their next-in-charge was short and to the point. If Kellan didn’t want to be sued for breach of contract, he’d get to Hannah’s place pronto.

“Park across the street. Keep an eye on her house. I’ll be there later. You see anything suspicious, call me. Got it?”

Three hours later, Brian’s daughter was born, and damn if Zach didn’t feel a swell of pride, looking at the tiny infant for the first time.

An unfamiliar emotion puffed out his chest when he peeked in on the nursery with Brian and saw little Jessica kicking her tiny feet against a pink blanket. He’d never been a kid kind of person, but he had a feeling that little squirt was gonna own his heart.

“Now that I know Jenny’s fine and the baby’s here, I need to get back over to Hannah’s place,” Brian said as they stood there. “I didn’t tell her about the car following her.” Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s not safe, and I owe her. I need to get back over there and—”

“You’re not leaving this hospital.” Zach pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. Kellan was due to bodyguard his actress girlfriend at a charity event tonight. What freelancers did they know? Who was available? “I’ll put someone else on her.”

“Who?” Brian held up his hands. “We’re stretched too damn thin as it is.” His glance strayed back to the crib that cradled his kid. “You should do it.” Before Zach could manage a response, Brian stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Look, man, it’s been six months. It’s time for you to get back in the game.”

“Not a good idea.” Zach leaned in close. “Let’s face it. I’m a better actor than a P.I. We don’t need another screw up like what happened the last time I handled a job.”

Brian scrunched his face in either disgust or disagreement. Maybe both. “You were an actor for fifteen minutes on some stupid reality show hardly anyone remembers. That’s behind you. What’s bringing this up now?”

Fifteen minutes? That barb stung. The Psychic Detective had lasted three seasons before Zach’s conscience had gotten the best of him and he’d quit. The so-called psychic who’d replaced him hadn’t lasted more than a year before viewership had dropped and the show had been cancelled.

People had liked him, dammit.

Zach opened his mouth to argue that perhaps if they’d taken advantage of that fact a little more, the firm wouldn’t be in such a mess now, but he censored himself. The only time he and Brian had ever come to blows had been over Zach’s television con. Brian had beat the shit out of Zach when he’d finished his tour of duty, returned to the states, and discovered Zach had been pretending to be psychic by using his eerie ability to pick up on the details others missed. Never mind his reasons for doing it. Brian hadn’t cared.

Zach clenched his jaw and said nothing. Just looked at his best friend.

Brian lifted his chin and softened his tone. “Come on, man. You do have the background. You’d either be a Marine or a cop if it weren’t for your arm.” He flicked his fingers against Zach’s left elbow. Zach instinctively massaged his forearm, remembering his basic training exercise gone bad. He’d been lucky some nerve damage was the only injury he’d gotten from the overturned vehicle. He kept it in check with medicine and exercise.

“Yeah, but I’m not a Marine, and I’m not a cop.” Thanks for rubbing it in, asshole. His injury had prevented him from qualifying for either title.

“But you never gave up trying.” Brian held up his hands, in full-on pep-talk mode now. “When I was stationed in Afghanistan, you were working your ass off at one of the best P.I. firms in Los Angeles. You were so good, a client recommended you to that TV producer. Hell, you’ve been a P.I. longer than me. So what if something bad happened on one case? It was just one case.” When Zach stepped to move away, Brian grabbed his good arm and stilled him. He kept his voice low, but firm. “Point is, we need to help that woman, and you’re more than capable. I need you to help that woman. Do it for me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Zach pulled his arm free. Brian hadn’t been the one Ellie Parham had hired years ago to do the background check on the young woman she’d employed as a nurse. He had no idea the things Zach had done to meddle in Hannah’s life after that. Zach would like to keep it that way.

Everything inside him was screaming for him to walk away. He couldn’t say no to the only friend who’d stood by him.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Zach cast one last glance toward the newborn in the nursery. “Just remember that I said this was a bad idea.”

Twenty minutes later, Zach took a deep breath as he parked his SUV in front of the white-sided traditional home on the edge of one of Atlanta’s nicer communities. He rarely came to Buckhead—too rich for his wallet—but he knew a woman who’d inherited ten million dollars could’ve picked a larger, newer, nicer house than this one-story ranch. He scanned the area, spotted an older woman walking her poodle along the sidewalk, watching him, and forced himself to get out of the car.

Brian was right. They needed to help Hannah Dawson. Maybe it was even meant for Zach to do penance by handling this case. Heaven help them both, but maybe it was.

He waved Kellan off and moved to press the doorbell. Sighing, he redirected his hand to push the hair away from his face instead.

This was gonna be awkward.

The echo of a dog’s barking grew louder until he knew that chubby little mutt was right on the other side of the door. Zach blew out a breath and pressed the doorbell.

He heard movement on the other side followed by a quiet, “Hush, Costello.” The chain rattled as the door opened against it, and he barely recognized the woman who peeked out at him. He saw enough to know she was now dressed in a pair of sweatpants, baggy shirt and bare feet. Her hair was yanked back in a ponytail, making her look years younger, too.

He felt his breath catch in his chest. He’d always enjoyed seeing her like this.

“Mr. Collins. Can I help you?”

The dog’s long snout poked out from the bottom of the cracked door as if it thought it could squeeze its entire body through the tiny space.

Zach squared his shoulders and forced a smile. “Miss Dawson. May I come in?”

She sighed, but nodded. “Just give me a second.” The door shut and the chain protested again as she unlatched it. The entrance cracked open. “Come in, and hurry.”

She was bent over, holding the dog’s collar as he stepped through the door. Zach made sure the cat was still inside—there it was, perched on the back of the sofa—and shut the door.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

The dog strained against her hold, and when she released him, he ran to Zach and jumped against his leg in greeting.

Hannah clapped and pointed at the ground. “Down, Costello.” Her shoulders sank some. “I’m sorry. Ellie never had him trained. He’s horribly disobedient.” Seeing the dog sit, she walked toward the open kitchen, separated from the living room only by a large island. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Zach squinted down at the dog sitting on his left foot and looking up at him with a smelly, open-mouthed, tongue-hanging-to-the-side smile. “No thanks. I wanted to come by and apologize.” He looked up to see her tugging a cookie sheet from the oven. The aroma of melted chocolate chips triggered his mouth to start watering. “And also to thank you for what you did today.”

“How’s Brian?”

“Holding up. His wife delivered a little girl. Seven pounds, eight ounces.”

“No problems?”

“None.”

“That’s wonderful. What did they name her?”

“Jessica Marie.”

“Pretty name.” She checked the cookies to make sure they were done, and then she turned toward him and leaned against the counter. “I’m glad it ended well.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Brian reacted that way. I assure you he has never fainted before, especially while on the job. We’d like to offer you a discount on our services for a month. Half off. It’s the least we can do.”

She looked away and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. She was hesitating. Why was she hesitating?

“Mr. Collins—”

“Call me Zach.”

That seemed to give her more reason to pause. “I’m not certain your firm is the right one for me. Truthfully, I’ve decided I probably overreacted in coming to you.”

“But you signed a contract.”

“Yes, beginning with a trial day.” She straightened. Her eyebrows pulled together, but her tone was polite when she told him, “I’m sure Brian would prefer to spend this time with his family anyway. Perhaps, in the future—”

“Someone was following you today.”

“W-what?”

Ah, that had caught her attention. “Brian spotted the tail when you left our office.” He gave her the vehicle description. “Have you noticed that car before?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “You know, maybe Brian was mistaken.” But the expression on her face told him she was worried.

Why the hell was she being so stubborn? He blew a soft breath through his nose and said, “If it matters, I was also planning to take over your case personally.”

“You were?”

Oh, it mattered, alright. He could tell by the way her eyes had sparked with interest. Why? Because she thinks you’re psychic, dumbass.

Dammit. He did not want to lie to this woman, but what choice had she given him? They needed this paycheck, but more than that, his gut twisted at the idea of her being alone with only God-knows-who targeting her. He liked this woman. Always had. Hell, he owed her.

If he was careful with his wording, maybe that would excuse him from bending his ethics this one time. It was worth a shot. She might hate him when she discovered he’d twisted the truth, but at least she would be safe.

“I’d like to take over your case.” He felt a heavy weight crush against his foot and realized the dog had decided to lie down against him. He gestured to the animal, swallowed, and prayed Brian wouldn’t find out about this part. “And I will try my best to communicate with your cat and dog.”

She crossed her arms and leaned her head a tad to the right while she considered it.

Give her a reason to say yes.

What did those stupid Facebook memes always suggest cats and dogs were thinking? Food. Something about food would seem real.

“Your cat would like a treat.” He nodded toward the feline sitting on the floor behind her.

The cat perked up and shuffled its weight from paw to paw. As if Zach had said the magic word, the dog jumped to his feet and sat at attention.

Bingo.

Hannah uncrossed her arms. “You mentioned the T word. Doesn’t take a psychic to know that’ll get a reaction.”

Good point.

She turned and stretched up toward a cabinet. Zach used the opportunity to inspect his surroundings. Unopened boxes were strewn about the floor. Very few decorations were placed around the room. She wasn’t giving him much to work with here.

A phone book was open on the sofa. He recognized the full-page ad of one the agency’s biggest competitors. She was hiring someone else? Like hell.

What did he remember about her that he could use? His gaze landed on a familiar-looking DVD cover, half-buried beneath a few magazines on the coffee table behind him. He mentally snapped his fingers. When she faced him again, he gestured to the cat.

“He also wants to know when you’re going to watch the short little man with the funny-looking hat and mustache again.”

Her entire body froze as if he’d pressed a pause button on her. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I’m feeling laughter and seeing —” He scrunched his eyebrows. “Is it Charlie Chaplin?”

The bag of treats fell from her fingers and hit the counter with a soft thud. She turned her attention to the cat, who was still staring at Zach—and swishing its tail like crazy.

“Okay, that’s kinda creepy.” She lifted the cat onto the island and gave it a few treats while she stroked its back. “I’ve got a new alarm. The police said they’d try to have a car patrol the area for a few days. I’m sorry, but my mind is made up.” She rounded the island and stuck her hand out to him. “Thank you for your services, Mr. Collins.”

A few minutes later, Zach stood on her doorstep, pissed at himself that he’d tried to con her with his psychic routine and angry at her because she hadn’t taken the bait. Had he weirded her out, the way he was looking at her or something? He found her attractive, but getting involved with a client was the ultimate no-no in his book.

No, he knew he’d been careful not to give himself away on that front.

So what had happened? How did he fix this?

He scanned the neighborhood as he walked to his car, remembering Brian’s words from the hospital.

“I didn’t tell Hannah, but there was someone following her today.”

He’d promised Brian he’d keep her safe.

And he’d blown it.

“What the hell do I do now?” Zach shook his head as he lifted his hand to start the ignition, but something—a gut feeling—gave him pause. The hair on the back of his neck tickled as it lifted. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

He felt like he was being watched.

Chapter Three

Why the blazes was there a SUV in her driveway?

Hannah hesitated on the doorstep when she spotted the unfamiliar vehicle. She instinctively jerked Costello’s leash to rein him in, but he pulled ahead with the strength of a freight train.

Never mind calling the cops, Costello. For all we know there’s a knife-wielding maniac waiting to jump out and grab us, but go on. Trudge ahead. I’m right behind you.

She stumbled along after him as Costello yanked over to the grass and hiked his leg. She kept her gaze on the car, trying to decipher the huddled figure slumped behind the steering wheel and leaning against the truck’s window.

Was that Zachary Collins?

Surely he hadn’t stayed here all night. Why would he have?

She led Costello closer. Yep, it was Zach alright. When she tapped on the driver’s side window, the man gave a start.

“Shit,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear through the glass.

He blinked several times as he glanced around. He reached forward, toyed with the ignition and rolled the power window down.

“Everything okay?” she asked, wondering if he had some weird health problem that had caused him to pass out in her driveway.

“Fine.” He ran a hand over his face and nodded. “Good morning.”

Costello jerked forward and almost tugged her down. She caught herself with one foot braced in front of the other. “Good morning.”

“This probably seems kind of strange.” His lips curved up in a boyish grin. “I didn’t plan to fall asleep in your driveway. Sorry.” He took a look at his watch. “I must have nodded off a half hour ago.”

Only a half hour ago?

His eyes were blood-shot. Geez. Did the guy have a drinking problem? Drugs? Narcolepsy?

She said nothing, just played tug of war with Costello’s leash and waited for Zach to either explain himself or leave.

It had been hard enough sending him away last night. There was something about Zach that drew her to him the way Costello was drawn to human legs, and she’d been worried she was making the wrong decision again.

Zach oozed charisma. She was attracted to him in a way she didn’t want to be, and she didn’t trust him for that reason alone. Smooth-talking, handsome men—especially those who’d been on TV—had a reputation for inflated egos. Only cared about themselves. Been there. Done that. Once was a mistake. Twice was a choice, and she’d be darned if she made the same one again.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself she had a representative from another private security firm coming over this afternoon. Besides, she’d finally broken down and told Sarah everything, and her best friend was now hell-bent on coming over to assess the situation herself. And if Hannah knew Sarah, her friend would be bringing at least one of her very huge, very intimidating brothers with her as a precaution.

Zach pulled the key from his ignition and opened the door. “Mind if I use your restroom?”

She stepped back and shrugged. “Of course not.” She tilted her head toward the dog that was now munching on grass. She reached for the house key that was attached at her neck by a lanyard. “I’ve got to take him for our morning walk. Let yourself in. Please make sure Abbott doesn’t get out.”

He looked at her hand, but he didn’t take the key. “How about I walk with you first? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

What the hell? Getting away from him obviously wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. And why did she feel so guilty about calling one of his competitors?

“Okay.” She sighed and allowed the forty-pound dog to lead the way. As soon as Costello realized she wasn’t holding him back, he stopped trying to drag her behind him like a ragdoll. Slowing her steps, Hannah spared a quick look at the disheveled man beside her.

A morning beard darkened his chin, and his hair was ruffled.

Whew. He was hot. Sexy.

Trouble.

“Are you going to tell me why you spent the night in my driveway?” She focused on Costello, who’d slowed down and was backing up to do his morning business on her neighbor’s lawn. Hannah snatched a small bag out of her pocket and waited for the dog to finish, and the man to answer.

Zach scanned the street in front of them with hawk-eye precision. “Someone was following you yesterday. Last night your house was being watched.”

Worry zinged through her brain until she shook herself free of the useless emotion. Had someone been following her, or had Zach invented it as a convenient excuse to scare her into retaining his services? She opted to believe the second, if only because the alternative was too terrifying.

She turned to him and forced a smile. “Thank you for staying, but I did make it clear your services aren’t required.”

“I’m not kidding, Hannah.”

“Neither am I.”

His fingers gripped her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. “You could be in real danger. Let me help you.”

“How do you know my house was being watched?” Costello hauled on the leash, demanding to be walked, so she gave in and hoped Zach would follow. “Did you actually see someone? What did they look like?”

He ran a hand through his hair as he casually matched her pace. His jaw clenched. “I didn’t see anyone. I felt it.”

“Like a psychic thing?”

He shook his head. “Call it a gut reaction. I’ve been doing this a long time. Trust me, I know when my instincts are dead on, and I know when I’m being watched.”

Hannah had no idea how his psychic abilities worked—or if he was even psychic, for that matter—but she could hear the sincerity in his voice.

His fingers gripped her upper arm tight again, bringing her to another stop. His wide-eyed expression was serious—and a little alarming. “Who’s watching the cat?”

“No one,” she admitted. “I—” She stopped her words when Zach yanked the lanyard from her hand and sprinted back the way they came. Costello bounded after him, jerking her arm almost out of its socket and nearly dragging her to the ground. “Wait a minute!”

Then she remembered Zach’s question, and she ran like hell to catch up to him, too.

His gut churned in a familiar way that told Zach something bad was about to happen. He might not be psychic, but he hadn’t been lying when he told Hannah his instincts rarely led him wrong.

A few minutes ago, the thought to trigger that gut churning had been, the damn cat is a sitting duck right now.

He didn’t see anything suspicious as he hurried up the steps to Hannah’s house, but he still opened the front door carefully.

The house was eerily quiet. He scanned the room and saw nothing unusual—not even the cat. He took a step inside, and that’s when it hit him. The pungent smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, as if someone who smoked often had been in the room.

“What on earth?” Hannah said, coming up behind him fast.

The dog’s paws shoved against the back of his knees, and Zach almost fell face-first into the carpet. He stumbled forward and caught himself against the wall as Costello raced around him and bounced into the room.

He was gonna kill that damn dog.

He held out an arm to prevent Hannah from moving further inside and asked in a whisper, “Do you smoke?” But he already knew the answer.

“No.”

The look of distaste on her face turned to something else as her nostrils flared and caught the same scent his had. She paled, and her fingers gripped the leather jacket covering his arm.

“Grab your cell phone and call the police. Go to a neighbor’s house and wait on their porch.” He pulled away from her and inched forward, wishing like hell he was carrying his gun or some other weapon. A single vase sat on the bookshelf, so he grabbed it, glad to feel that it was heavy and could do some damage if needed. His attention caught on Costello, who sniffed the air and headed down the hall toward what Zach assumed were the bedrooms. He kept a good pace behind the dog, just in case.

The mutt growled and dashed into the open doorway of one of the rooms. Zach waited for an intruder to run out, but then the dog’s whimper ripped the silence.

“Dammit.” He moved to charge forward and—

Someone rushed him from the side. Zach had enough time to see the bat swinging toward him before it felt like his brain exploded inside his skull. His teeth rattled as he hit the floor. The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue as everything threatened to fade to black.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

The strange sound brought him back toward consciousness. Zach swallowed, tasted his own blood and nearly gagged. He blinked and saw a furry black and white cat standing too close to his face, licking its paw over and over again. He jerked sideways in surprise, making stars swim in his vision and a groan escape his mouth.

What the hell is his problem? It’s not like I did this to him.

The thought—more like a strong feeling than words—seemed oddly foreign to Zach. He felt pressure on his leg and looked down to see the damn dog going to town with a fury.

Gotta help him. Gotta help him. Gotta show him who’s boss. Gotta help him.

Again with the strange thought-feeling. Zach groaned and dropped his head back down, jarred his teeth.

He heard more licking and turned his head to see the cat’s tongue still taking long swipes at its paw.

Dirty paw.

Hungry.

When’s dinner?

Was the cat actually talking or—?

“Gnn-mmmm,” Zach groaned.

A second later, black engulfed him.

He should have come out by now.

Hannah shifted her weight from foot to foot as she debated going inside. She’d done as Zachary asked and called the police and was still holding on the line with the dispatcher, who annoyingly kept asking her for updates she couldn’t give. She couldn’t see or hear anything from where she stood on her absent neighbor’s front porch.

“It will just be a few more minutes,” the woman on the other end kept saying.

It had already been seven minutes.

“Screw this,” she told the dispatcher. “I’m going inside.”

“I wouldn’t advise that, Miss Dawson. Stay—” The voice ended when Hannah moved forward and a double beep informed her she’d lost the call. Well, crap. She shoved the phone in her pocket and hurried across her lawn.

The smell of cigarette smoke wasn’t as strong as it had been when she’d stepped inside earlier. She listened, heard absolutely nothing aside from the tick-tock of the clock above the mantle, and slowly moved forward.

She tried to remember where she’d put the baseball bat she’d been keeping close for comfort’s sake. Bedroom. Damn. What else could she use for a weapon? Another vase? They were in a box somewhere. She really needed to unpack soon.

“Mreow.”

The cat’s call echoed through the living room seconds before Abbot’s black and white body sauntered into view. He sat down, looked at her and meowed again. Then he rolled onto his side and gave her a sleepy-eyed look.

“Zach?” Her voice sounded loud, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the silence or because she’d spoken higher than she’d planned.

Hannah hurried toward the cat, scooped him up and stared down the empty hallway.

“Costello?” She whispered loudly.

The dog’s head peeked out of a doorway. His beady eyes met hers, he barked and then he disappeared with a bunny-hop motion back into the room.

The curtains swayed in a breeze when she entered the area she had planned for an office. Her gaze landed on Zach’s motionless body in the floor. Costello was busy humping one of the private detective’s legs.

“Costello. No!”

Zach’s chest barely rose and fell on shallow breaths. Her nurse training kicked in, and she bent to check for a pulse, trying to find evidence of what had caused the injury. A trickle of blood was drying below his nose. His pulse was steady.

“Zach, can you hear me?”

A low groan rumbled through his chest.

Abbot sat down on the other side of Zach’s head and seemed fascinated by Hannah’s actions as she used trembling fingers to lift his eyelids and check his pupil dilation. She reached for her phone, intending to dial 911 again, but the sound of a police car’s siren in the distance stilled her.

She took a deep breath and caressed Zach’s face. I’m sorry. So sorry. Someone had been in her home again. Someone had done this to him. She felt so violated and scared and angry. Angry at herself for not listening to him earlier. He’d been right.

The person doing this was dangerous, and worse, they didn’t seem likely to give up anytime soon.

Chapter Four

Sarah Taylor glared from across the room. “And why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”

Hannah shrank deeper into the corner of her new sofa and watched her best friend pace a line in the living room rug. Sarah’s ebony skin didn’t turn red in anger the way hers did, but Sarah had other tells Hannah had picked up on throughout the years. Hannah knew her usually calm and quiet best friend was livid.

Well, at least she hadn’t brought one of her brothers with her. Then Hannah would be defending herself against two of the Taylors. Heaven help her.

“I told you,” Hannah said. “I didn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork. You work a full-time job, and your mother is sick with cancer. The last thing you need to worry about is me.”

“I know you didn’t say that Hannah Michelle Dawson.” Sarah stopped pacing and pointed an accusing finger at her. “You are practically my sister, and you know you can come stay with us. We could have been watching out for you.”

Hannah grabbed the pillow beside her and hugged it. Batting her eyelashes, she feigned a proper British accent. “If you would be so polite as to grace me with your forgiveness, I’d be ever so grateful.” Sarah could never resist the British accent.

“Don’t even try it.” Her friend’s thinned lips twitched as she held up a hand in warning and spun away.

“Do you like crumpets?” Hannah batted her eyelashes. “I’ll make you crumpets if you forgive me.”

Glancing back at the sofa, Sarah rolled her eyes and relented with a smile. “Fine.” She crossed her arms. “I forgive you, but only if you come stay with us.”

Dropping the accent, Hannah groaned. “Come on, Sarah. You and I both know you and your mom have this weird phobia about cats. That’s why Abbot is locked in the other room right now. I can’t bring him into your house. It wouldn’t be fair to any of you.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t get rid of that thing anyway.” A feigned shudder jiggled Sarah’s shoulders. “Creepy-as-hell cat.”

Gritting her teeth, Hannah moved to her feet. Every few minutes she felt the need to check on that so-called creepy-as-hell cat to make sure no one else had climbed in the window and tried to snatch him again.

“Besides the fact I love and adore Abbot, you know why.” Hannah paused on her way to the bedroom to peek out the front window curtain. “Remember the money that paid off your mother’s medical bills? Remember that money I gave you to pay for this semester’s tuition? That’s why.”

“Loaned me,” Sarah corrected, padding close behind her with Costello bringing up the rear. Hannah opened the bedroom door and spotted Abbot twisted in an unnatural kitty position in his fluffy bed, deep asleep.

A sigh of relief escaped her parted lips as she closed the door.

How was she ever going to get a decent night’s sleep again, with her constant guarding over the two animals in her care?

“I’m gonna call Jeremy so he can come and stay with you.” Sarah pulled out her cell phone. “The boy’s crazy as hell, but he doesn’t mind cats or dogs.”

The mention of Sarah’s youngest brother nearly tore a groan from Hannah. She grappled with her friend’s hand before Sarah could complete the dial. “Jeremy is in high school.”

“So?”

“Sarah, I’m a 30-year-old single woman who just moved into this neighborhood.” She shook her head. “I love your brothers like my own, but all my new neighbors will see is that a 15-year-old boy keeps coming and going from my house. Awkward.” She let the word roll out in two syllables. “Besides, if anything happened to him, do you know what that would do to your mom?”

“Ugh. You are such a party pooper.” Groaning, Sarah twirled, and her long, black hair swished around her shoulders. Her pretty features appeared drawn tight, and Hannah worried her friend hadn’t been taking care of herself very well. Lord knew she had plenty to cause her stress. Sarah plopped onto the sofa, arms crossed, her hazel eyes sparkling with determination. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

Hannah closed her eyes and prayed for strength. She rarely won arguments with any of the Taylors, but she absolutely could not allow her friend to stay here. She refused to burden Sarah any more than she already was.

“If you stay, we’ll both gain ten pounds from eating ice cream and get no sleep because we’ll be watching your DVDs of Downton Abbey all night. You, my friend, have exams coming up. Get your butt home and study.” Hannah moved toward the kitchen to grab a diet soda—maybe the caffeine would help keep her alert—and chewed her bottom lip as she came to terms with the decision she’d already made. “Besides, I’ve hired Zachary Collins’ agency for protection. There is no need for you or anyone else to stay here.”

“Yeah, because they’re obviously doing a top-notch job so far.” Sarah snorted. “How old is that kid guarding your house anyway? Sixteen?”

“E.J. is at least in his twenties, and he’s been nothing but professional.” Hannah closed the refrigerator and turned to face her friend. A zing of irritation on Zach’s behalf triggered her temper. “Zach refused to leave the other night because he thought I was being watched. If he hadn’t been here yesterday morning—” She didn’t like to think what could have happened. She waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, they moved me to a hotel last night and made sure the house was safe to come back to. They’ve been keeping us safe, Sarah.”

Her friend held up her hand. “Fine, but don’t expect me to believe Zachary Collins is doing this out of the goodness of his heart. I’m sure he only sees dollar signs when he looks at you, Hannah.”

“It’s not like that.” She frowned. “You don’t even know him.”

“I’m just sayin’ be careful.” Sarah sprang up from the sofa and joined her at the kitchen island. Sarah leaned against it and wiggled her eyebrows. “So, what’s he like in person? I’ve only seen his show a few times.”

“He’s…good. I think he’s good at what he does.”

“Gay?”

“Sarah.” Hannah couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice.

“What? He was on TV. You have to wonder.”

“I don’t think he’s gay.” Although she didn’t have much to base that on. Wishful thinking probably.

Sarah’s smile grew lascivious. “Is he as hot as he seems on TV?”

Hannah sighed dramatically. “Hotter. Much hotter.”

Sarah snuck some pieces of popcorn from the bowl Hannah had left sitting there…had it been three days ago? Geesh. She really needed to clean. “What about the other bodyguards?”

Hannah gave her a quick run-down of the men she’d met so far, and Sarah released a long breath, picked off one last piece of popcorn and then pinned her with a look. “Promise me you’ll be careful with him.”

“With Zach?”

“You’re beautiful. You have millions of dollars at your disposal.” Sarah lifted her chin. “I don’t want to see you get into another situation like you did with Eric. That’s all.”

Every muscle in Hannah’s body snapped into painful awareness at the name. Sarah had always had a tendency to jump to conclusions that made absolutely no sense, but how she could compare hiring Zachary Collins to protect her with what had happened with Eric was beyond comprehension. “You’re nuts. The two situations are nothing alike.”

Sarah arched a brow. “He’s gorgeous and exactly your type. I don’t want him to take advantage of you because he wants your money. You’ve got to think about things like this now, Hannah. People are going to try to use you.”

Hannah scoffed. She should have never told Sarah that Zach was even hotter in person. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know I have to be careful.” She ticked off points with her finger. “I checked with the Better Business Bureau. No unresolved complaints against them. I had Mr. Russell check to make sure they were properly licensed.” Ellie’s attorney—now her attorney—had been a godsend. “And Brian gave me references from some of their past clients. I called and confirmed that these guys know what they’re doing.”

They stared at each other for several seconds.

“Alright then.” Her friend heaved a reluctant sigh of surrender and reached for her purse. “If you didn’t have a bigger, stronger bodyguard coming to take over for that puny guy on the porch, my rear would be planted on that sofa all night.”

“E.J. is hardly puny.”

Another snort. “He looks like a thug.”

“Sarah.”

Sarah threw up a hand. “Just sayin’. Know what he said to me when I walked up?”

Hannah shrugged.

“He got out of his car, ran over to me and said—” Sarah mimicked a gangsta’s voice and gave Hannah a salacious look up and down her body. “‘How ya doin’, baby? Come ’ere often?’” She returned to her normal voice and stance. “Like I said. He’s how old? Sixteen? My youngest brother doesn’t act that way.”

But Hannah couldn’t conjure up any more defense. Her mind felt fractured. All because it was hanging on one stupid little word: Eric.

Would she ever reach a point where the mere mention of his name didn’t feel like a stab to the heart? She hoped so. It had been almost four years. Why did his memory still have the power to wound her?

Sarah hesitated in the doorway before leaving. “Han?”

She looked at her friend.

“Sorry I mentioned the creep earlier. I’ve been under a lot of stress and I’m PMSing and worried and—” Her expression softened. “That’s still no excuse. I’m sorry.”

A shrug lifted Hannah’s shoulders in response. “It happens.”

They shared a hug. “Call me if you need me.” Sarah drew back and pushed a strand of hair away from Hannah’s face. “Remember. ‘The Bodyguard’ might have been an okay movie, but they didn’t end up together. Know what I’m sayin’?”

“Good grief.” She shoved her friend out the door. “Take your overactive imagination and get out of here.”

As she watched Sarah climb into her car, Hannah’s gaze drifted to the vehicle still sitting in her driveway. Zach’s SUV. Was he out of the hospital yet?

And did he hate her for not listening to him?

“You left her alone?” Zach bit back a painful groan as he slid his arm into his jacket. Every movement of his body seemed to stir the tiny imp that was driving nails into his skull.

“Her friend was there,” Brian said, reaching awkwardly to help his partner stand from the hospital bed. “And E.J. is keeping an eye on her. I figured the kid could handle that.”

“What about the cops?”

Detective Ryan with the Atlanta Police Department had stopped by earlier to ask Zach some questions. It had been a humiliating experience, starting with the detective’s comment, “Hey, weren’t you the P.I. that was involved in that Kirkwood case—what?—about six months ago?”

Brian had stepped in before Zach could respond, which had pissed him the hell off. He was a big boy and capable of responding on his own, dammit.

“Nasty business. Sorry for the way it ended.” The detective had given Zach a curious look before moving on to Hannah’s situation.

He hadn’t instilled much confidence with his departing words. "We'll have a patrol go by Miss Dawson’s more often. In the meantime, we’ve advised her to consider an alarm system and maintain her private security."

Brian opened the door. “You know how it is, Zach. The APD is overloaded with cases. Sure, they take robbery seriously, but they give priority to cases they have leads on.”

“You mean the fact someone tried to kill me inside her house didn’t give them proper cause to station a patrol there twenty-four seven?” Damn cops.

The idea of Hannah being left unprotected made him feel edgy.

When he’d been parked in front of her house all night, keeping an eye out for trouble, Zach had spent half that time thinking about her. Why had she sought him out, only to turn him away the next day? His gut told him she was keeping something from him. But what, and why? He’d also noticed the way she looked at him when she didn’t think he was watching. Maybe he was arrogant, but he could tell when a woman found him attractive.

At least they were even on that score.

This woman posed a serious threat to his vow never to fall for a client.

“The cops are doing what they can,” Brian said, bringing him back to the conversation.

Zach took a few steps, felt the room spin around him, used the wall as a guide, and forced himself to keep moving. As he’d hoped, the weird sensation faded as quickly as it had come. Concussion. Wasn’t the first time he’d had one, but it was definitely the worst.

“The cops advised her to leave the house. We arranged a hotel for her last night.” Brian opened the door to the hospital room. “Do you know how damned hard it is to find a hotel willing to take both a cat and a dog? It’s ridiculous.”

Zach could only imagine.

“So she’s at a hotel? Good.”

“Was at a hotel,” Brian corrected. “When I called her earlier, she’d already checked out and was back home.”

Zach swore beneath his breath. She was going to have to learn to listen to them if she wanted to stay safe.

“As soon as I get you home, I’m going to head back over there. She’ll be fine.” Brian squeezed Zach’s shoulder.

“Does that mean you convinced her to keep her contract with us?”

Brian smiled a bit sheepish. “I didn’t have to do much convincing. I think she feels guilty about you getting hurt. Plus, she’s scared. Can’t say I blame her.”

Zach shook his head. “Why would someone try so damn hard to kidnap a cat and a dog?”

“Ten million dollars isn’t motive enough for you?”

Not really.

Zach had a feeling the reason went deeper than that. He had no idea why he felt that way. He just did.

“No. Call it a hunch.” He reached for the keys he’d put in his pocket, then realized he didn’t have his car.

“No driving for at least another twenty-four hours,” Brian chided, guiding him toward the parking lot. He waited until Zach was seated in his truck to say, “Maybe you were right. Maybe it’s too soon for you to take another case.”

“I’m fine,” Zach growled.

Brian held up his hands. “I know she hired us, but we do need to consider another possibility here.” He gave Zach a sideways look as he buckled his seatbelt. “What happens to the money if the cat and dog get killed? Does it all go to Hannah, and if so, that’s one helluva motive right there.”

The jolt of anger he felt at that suggestion was immediate. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know? I mean, what the hell do we really know about her? You have to admit. Greed makes people do some crazy shit. She could think hiring us gives her a cover.”

Zach glared at Brian until he realized his friend hadn’t intended the comment as a jab against Zach’s own character. He tugged at his seatbelt and buckled up. “I already asked E.J. to do some digging on that front. Don’t worry. I still remember how to do my job.”

Besides, Hannah could get rid of the cat and dog easy enough. There were no other heirs to hold her accountable.

He reached for his phone and dialed E.J. They’d taken him in four months ago as a favor to E.J.’s grandfather. The kid had gotten mixed up with a gang but hadn’t been in so deep he couldn’t get out. Brian thought he’d shown potential, and he worked for peanuts. Right now, Zach wasn’t above using him as a spotter on this case.

“Did you find anything on those background checks?” Zach asked when E.J. answered.

“Hey, man, you alright?” E.J. asked. “Brian said somebody put you down good.”

He clenched his jaw, felt a shot of pain at his temple and sighed. “I’m fine. Tell me what you found.”

“Hold on. I got my notes right here. I think I found something good, too.” The sound of papers being rustled filled the slight pause in conversation. “Ellie Parham is the lady who left the money to Hannah, but funny thing is, Ellie Parham didn’t exist before thirty years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there is no Ellie Parham of that age or race anywhere in the system before 1983. No social security number. No driver’s license. No address. No employment records. Nothing, not even a birth certificate I can find.”

“That’s impossible. Maybe she was married.” Or maybe the kid hadn’t done something right.

“Already checked, and before you start thinking I screwed up, Kellan did a search too and came up empty. The lady didn’t exist, boss. Hannah said Miss Parham told her she’d never been married, and I called the broad’s lawyer. He seemed kind of shifty about it, like he knew more than he was telling, but he swore she hadn’t mentioned being divorced or widowed either.”

Interesting.

“What about her will? Who gets the money if something happens to the cat and dog?”

“Hannah does.”

Zach refused to think that meant anything. “What if something happens to all three of them? Who gets the money then?”

The sound of papers shuffling again filled the line. “It all goes to charity.”

Zach rubbed at his forehead, not liking that answer. That answer left them without another obvious suspect. “What about Hannah? Did you run a background check on her?”

“No criminal record. Never been married. No kids. Went to nursing school at Emory. Worked five years at Saint Joseph’s before going to work for a homecare service. That’s how she met the old lady. She worked as a part-time nurse for a few different clients for about a year before moving in with Parham and working for the old lady full-time.”

“Anything else?”

“Just basic background stuff.” E.J. rattled off details Zach already knew. Hannah’s birth mother had been a college exchange student from Ireland who stayed here after getting pregnant. Father unknown. Hannah had been twelve when her mother died. She was in and out of foster homes after that.

Zach listened. He already knew Hannah’s background, but there was a gap he didn’t know—spanning the last four years.

“Is that all you could find?”

“You want me to dig deeper?”

“Yes.” A nudge at the edge of his conscience almost had Zach taking back the word. Are your reasons for wanting to know personal or professional?

He told his conscience to shut the hell up.

“Find out what her finances were before she got lucky and inherited a rich cat and dog. Find out if there are any ex-boyfriends who might want to cause her trouble and see what you can find on them.” He looked away from Brian and lowered his voice as he lied through his teeth. “She mentioned a guy—Eric Meester. M-E-E-S-T-E-R. See what you can turn up on him.”

Ending his call with E.J., Zach glanced at Brian in the driver’s seat. “Why are we driving toward your place?”

Brian didn’t say a word. His sunglass-covered gaze briefly turned toward him. His mouth was pursed in stubborn conviction.

“Take me to get my car,” Zach ordered.

“You need to rest. You can get your car tomorrow.” Brian’s fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly it squeaked. “You can help Jenny with Jessica while I’m gone, but you need to rest your head a while longer.”

“I’ve been resting. I want back on this case. Now.”

“Why? Because of the money?”

A rush of frustrated air blew through Zach’s nostrils. He pointed at his face where a nasty bruise had already begun forming. “Because someone made this personal.”

This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.

Driving past the police car that had been crawling through the neighborhood at different times over the last 24 hours, the man lifted a hand and waved so as not to seem too suspicious. His skin itched beneath the fake beard, and his head was sweating under the baseball cap. Behind cheap sunglasses, he did a quick survey of the situation.

They’d been so close to getting what they wanted yesterday before that idiot had interrupted them. The cat had been within arm’s reach and everything.

Zachary Collins. Yeah, he knew who the guy was. He’d done some research on the private investigator Hannah Dawson had hired yesterday. The guy’s agency had a solid reputation. Might be trouble.

In his rearview, he watched Collins and another guy approach in a SUV and pull into the driveway.

No opportunity. Gonna have to wait a little bit longer.

As if he hadn’t been waiting long enough.

His phone rang, and he answered it. “This is Fox. What do you got for me?” Fox wasn’t his real name, but he’d adopted it after getting out of prison.

“I talked to the buyer and explained you were now in charge. We still have to deliver the product by the third.”

That was three weeks away. Should give them plenty of time.

“Good job,” he told his newest partner. Too bad their partnership would be short-lived. He’d learned his lesson a long time ago. Partners were a liability. He’d disposed of one last night. Taken control since the old man wasn’t doing what needed to be done.

Once he had what he needed to make the drop, he’d tie up the rest of the loose ends, including his new prodigy. Then he’d find another. That’s what the old man had taught him. Take a job. Get the product. Keep moving.

In the meantime, he needed to regroup and come up with another plan.

That cat and dog were his. It was only a matter of time.

Chapter Five

Hannah sank into the chair across from Zach and tried not to stare at the purple bruise beside his right eye. Butterfly bandages kept a gash closed above his eyebrow, reminding her of a boxer who’d fought one too many rounds. Guilt caused her face to warm.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll live,” he said, leaning forward. “I was worried about you.”

“You were?” His words induced an irrational, tiny shimmer of pleasure through her chest. Ridiculous. Of course he was worried about her. She was paying him to worry about her. She glanced at the man standing, arms crossed, beside Zach. Geez, Brian certainly could look intimidating. “You shouldn’t have. Brian looked after us—along with E.J.”

She’d been under someone’s supervision since the ambulance had taken Zach away yesterday. She supposed she’d pay for that now that she’d officially hired them all to protect her and the boys. Don’t panic at the cost. Remember. You can afford it now.

She released a slow breath of air at the surreal thought.

Zach glanced up at Brian, and a tense look passed between them before he spoke again. “We would have preferred for you to stay at the hotel a little longer. It’s bound to be safer there until we can determine who broke in here.” His blue gaze met hers again. “Did you see anyone before the police arrived? Maybe they tried to run out the back door after they knocked me out.”

She shook her head. “When I found you, the person was gone. The window was open, so I assumed they left that way.”

“You’re certain nothing was taken?”

“Positive. Brian helped me do an inventory.”

A glimpse of white and black movement alerted her to the fact Abbott had decided to join the conversation. Costello was already lying at Zach’s feet, glancing back and forth as if the dog was following the conversation, too.

Zach’s eyebrows drew together and he glanced down at the approaching cat with a strange expression. “Uh, so you didn’t—” He shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

She had to do a mental backtrack. “Only that nothing was missing.”

“Right.” He looked down at the cat again and shook his head. “Sorry.”

Brian stepped over to the window, pressed the curtain aside and glanced out. “The alarm was disabled again. We’re dealing with someone who knows what he’s doing.” He moved back to Zach’s side. “I believe it’s the same person who broke in the first time. Now the question we need to answer is why are they so persistent? What do they want?”

Zach gestured toward Abbott, who was busy licking his paw. “The person was trying to get the cat when I interrupted. I know there was also someone else in the room.” His finger brushed the injured side of his face. “We’re dealing with at least two suspects.”

“We have to assume they’re dangerous, and they’ll try again,” Brian said. “Hannah, I really wish you would take our advice and let us put you somewhere safe.”

Zach suddenly shot to his feet. “Did you hear that?”

She blinked and shrugged. “Yes, I heard what he said.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but my life has been disrupted enough lately. I don’t want to be relocated. This is my home now, and I—”

“Not that.” Zach held out his hand and glanced around. “Did you hear someone say ‘I want tuna for dinner’?”

A slow smile curved her lips. Was he pulling her leg or what? “I didn’t hear anyone say that.” She looked at the cat who’d decided to sprawl out on the rug and swish his tail. “But tuna is always Abbott’s food of choice.”

If Zach wanted her to think he was communicating with her animals, he really needed to come up with something more impressive. Sure, he’d spooked her the other night by knowing she had a Charlie Chaplin movie marathon planned. Only Abbott and Costello would have known how often she watched the silent film star’s movies. She tried to meet Zach’s gaze to determine if he was conning her or not, but his face was white and he kept looking around the room.

Brian reached over and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Zach jumped at the contact. “Zach, you okay, man? I told you it was too soon for you to jump back into work.”

Hannah moved to her feet. “Are you dizzy? Nauseated?”

He backed away from her, which caused him to fall back onto the sofa. Costello jumped up and began humping Zach’s left leg. He tried to jiggle the dog away, his eyes wide as he uttered a guttural, “Ahhhhh. No. No. You are not the boss of me. Stop saying that, dammit.”

The dog sat back on its haunches and panted happily in response.

Hannah stood speechless, shifting her attention between the man and the animal. Even Brian seemed at a loss for words, until he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, Hannah. He took quite a hit, and he’s obviously not well enough to be here. I’m gonna take him home, and then I’ll be back.” He reached down to help his friend to his feet.

Zach ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I must be worse off than I thought.” His throat moved against a hard swallow before he met her gaze again. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Brian or E.J. will stand guard until then, alright?”

She nodded and watched as Brian guided him out the door. The shorter of the two men turned and told her, “I’ll be back in about half an hour after I drop Zach off at my place. Lock the door. Call me if you need me.”

Closing the door behind them, Hannah sighed and looked at the two animals at her feet, demanding attention. “Did you guys say something to that man?”

All she got in response was a soft meow and heavy panting.

He was losing his friggin’ mind. That was all there was to it.

Zach splashed his face with water from the bathroom sink and then blinked at himself in the mirror. He’d taken a painkiller and spent the past several hours out cold.

He knew he had a concussion, but seriously? He was nuts to even consider that the weird feelings and voices he’d heard at Hannah’s had belonged to the cat and dog.

He needed to get his head back in the game and get over there. It wouldn’t do him or anyone else any good if he started psyching himself out now.

The mouth-watering aroma of bacon teased his nostrils, and he found Brian’s wife at the stove cooking. A stab of guilt speared his chest when he saw the dark circles under her eyes when she looked up at him. Jenny hadn’t been home from the hospital a day, and here she was, taking care of him and a new baby while her husband was working a case Zach should have been handling.

He hurried to take the spatula from her grip. “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” He guided her over to a chair and urged her to sit. “You shouldn’t be up and cooking yet.”

Jenny yawned. “What else would I be doing? I’ve got to eat.”

“Resting,” he pointed out, and waved the spatula toward her bedroom. “You could have woken me and I would have gotten you breakfast.”

“I’m not an invalid, Zach.” She rested her elbow on the table and lowered her chin to her hand. “But I am damn tired. How about you? How’s the head?” She eyed his arm. “Oh, Zach, you didn’t hurt your arm, did you?”

He flexed his hand for her benefit. There was usually a dull pain in that arm, but no, he hadn’t injured it yesterday.

“All good.” He flipped the bacon onto a plate and tended to a pan of scrambled eggs. “As soon as I get some food into you, I’ll go get your husband so he can take care of you. Don’t worry. He’ll be home for the next week at least.”

“We can’t afford for him to miss work, Zach.”

He pointed the spatula at her. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered. He’s got paid leave for as long as he needs it.”

“You sure?” Jenny’s hazel gaze softened with hope. She knew how dire the agency’s finances had been, and like Brian, had probably lost her own fair amount of sleep over the dilemma. But neither of their parents were in the picture to help, financially or otherwise. They were also too damn proud to ask for help from their friends. Zach would have to rally the troops into action. A little help with meals. Some babysitting duties. Clothes and toy donations. Whatever it took.

“Positive.” He arranged a plate full of food in front of her before moving to the fridge to get her some orange juice. “How is my baby niece doing anyway?”

A happy grin tugged the edges of Jenny’s mouth. “She’s amazing. I still can’t believe she’s here.”

“Of course she’s amazing.” He snagged a couple of pieces of bacon and thrust them into his mouth. “Can I go peek in at her?”

“Sure.” She waved her fork at him. “Please don’t wake her up. I was hoping to get a nap in after breakfast.”

Baby Jessica was sound asleep when Zach looked into the crib he’d helped Brian assemble a month or so ago. He took a deep breath and released it, glad things felt normal again.

He had no idea what the hell had happened to him at Hannah’s place last night. Maybe he was finally losing it. He could’ve sworn there’d been other people in the room with them, jabbering random things about food and going for a walk and the best windows with a view.

He’d had the crazy idea the cat had been talking to him.

Absurd.

The baby in the crib released a slight coo, and Zach reached in to tug the collar of her onesie up higher. Baby Jessica’s eyes slowly opened and met his, but the kid didn’t make a sound. She stared up at him with her big, blueish-gray eyes, so much like her father’s. Her mouth made an O shape.

He hadn’t been around a baby since his little brother Dylan, a helluva long time ago. Dylan. Did his brother have any kids yet? A bitter laugh escaped his control. Wouldn’t that be something, if he were already an uncle, a real one, and didn’t even know it.

“Hey, kiddo. Go back to sleep. Uncle Zach didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered.

A weird feeling gripped his gut.

It was quickly followed by the sensation of intense hunger, so strong it sent a bolt of pain through his belly.

The sound of Jessica’s cry shattered the silence. She flung her tiny, clenched fists to the side and then quickly brought them back to her middle again. Jenny appeared in the doorway and scooped the infant up. “Uh oh. Somebody’s hungry.” Turning around to face him, she added, “Some privacy, please?”

He shut the door behind him, and not even a minute later, the hunger chewing at his insides began to dissipate.

Nah, it couldn’t be.

He shook his head. No friggin’ way.

A chuckle shook his chest. He’d better watch himself. He was starting to buy his own con.

Chapter Six

It was official. This isolation was making Hannah nutso.

She’d had spent the past hour having a mostly one-sided conversation with her dog—in British. Well, with a British accent on her part. In her defense, she was pretty sure Costello had mumbled an uh-huh sound when she’d asked, “Aren’t these candles just the dog’s bollocks?”

She really needed to stop watching every version of Pride and Prejudice in her DVD collection when the classic film channel started showing weird stuff, which happened without fail every morning around two o’clock. And no more online streaming Doctor Who. It was making her wonky.

“Maybe I should have moved to London like Sarah suggested. What do you think, Costello? Would you like to live in England? I think you have some corgi in you, and we all know the Queen loves corgis.”

The dog made a whiney-growling sound, rolled onto his side and covered his eyes with one stubby leg. She’d take that as You’re a completely nutter, woman. Leave me alone.

Sighing, Hannah stepped away from the bookshelf and made sure the three baby blue candles she’d found in a box were positioned in a way that didn’t clutter the thing, but ah, who was she kidding? She didn’t own enough of anything to clutter a house of this size. It had been whimsical of her to buy this place in such a ridiculously wealthy neighborhood, but she’d wanted to start fresh somewhere memories couldn’t haunt her—without leaving the city she loved.

When she’d lived in a dorm at college, she’d had so little space and money, she’d never bothered to decorate with more than a few posters or torn pages from a magazine. Her first apartment had been shared with two roommates, and she’d spent so little time there, she’d never seen the point. With Eric, she—

No. Don’t go there. Don’t think about him.

She sighed and rerouted her thoughts. When she’d moved in as Ellie’s caretaker, she’d never felt right about trying to mix her own personal style with the older woman’s outdated décor.

She’d lived there, but it hadn’t been her home. She’d never really had a home, until now.

As soon as she’d seen this house—built in the 1930s and in need of a few repairs—she’d liked the idea of patching it up and making it hers. Maybe someday she’d have her own family, enough kids to fill the four bedrooms.

Hannah knelt beside one of the boxes filled with items from Ellie’s house she either needed to sell, donate or put away and discovered a bunch of knickknacks she didn’t remember packing. Ellie had owned a lot of knickknacks that seemed cruel to discard now without closer inspection. The older woman had spent almost ninety years collecting the things. The least Hannah could do was make sure they went to a home with someone who appreciated them.

She fingered a porcelain figurine of a white cat and shook her head. So far, she’d found at least one other box filled with similar figures. She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. “Ellie did love animals, didn’t she?”

Hearing her voice, Costello picked up the chew toy he’d been playing with and wandered closer, plopping down a few feet away before returning his focus to mauling the fuzzy goat.

She missed the older woman so much. Hannah hadn’t realized how much she’d come to care for Ellie Parham until the woman had been gone. It was hard to believe her friend had been dead almost a year.

When Ellie’s dog Fairbanks had passed away a few weeks after Hannah had moved in with her, Ellie had said, “Let’s go save another life. This time the lucky critter will have two moms. Trust me. Whoever said money can’t buy happiness has never paid a shelter fee.”

They’d come home with not only a puppy, but a kitten, too. Hannah had always thought of Abbott and Costello as partially hers from that day forward. Even without the inheritance, Hannah would have taken care of the boys. Ellie had known that.

Blinking away the emotion that particular memory caused, Hannah closed the box and slid it toward the ones she’d marked “Garage.” She twisted and turned to inspect a bigger box, only to squeal when Abbott sprang out of nowhere and landed in it before she could look inside. Crazy cat. Hannah would have made a lot more progress unpacking if Abbott stopped jumping into and making a bed inside of every box she opened.

The sound of the doorbell startled all three of them. Hannah jumped. Costello clambered to his feet barking, and Abbott darted out of the box and under the nearby sofa for safety.

She glanced at the clock she’d recently sat on the mantle. Almost ten. Brian had said he would be changing shifts with Zach soon. The idea of seeing him again spawned a ridiculous flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

Pushing to her feet, she dusted her jeans off then tugged at her ponytail to straighten it. Lord, she probably looked atrocious.

She opened the door, but instead of the man who’d been occupying her thoughts more than he should have, a well-dressed, dark-haired, middle-aged woman stood there smiling and holding …a casserole dish?

Not far behind her, Brian stood propped against the hood of his car, watching. He nodded and gave a discreet two-fingered wave, which was the code they’d decided for “All clear.”

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding, but I wanted to come over and introduce myself.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Carolyn Carter, from down the street.”

“Oh.” Hannah accepted the gesture. “Hannah Dawson. Nice to meet you.”

“Hannah.” The woman repeated her name as if it were the lyric of a song. “What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.”

Carolyn cast a backward glance at Brian before beaming a friendly smile in Hannah’s direction again. “I know how hard it can be getting settled into a new neighborhood. I thought the least I could do was bring you over a casserole as a housewarming gift.”

Oh, right. This was the part where she should invite the woman inside. Hannah rubbed her forehead and cringed at her social ineptness. “I’m sorry. Would you like to come in? I’ve been unpacking, and I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess right now.” She used her foot to guide Costello back and out of the way. Please, Lord, don’t let him hump my new neighbor. “Forgive my manners, but I’m not used to having company.”

The woman stepped inside and immediately began looking around. “Don’t worry about it, dear. I won’t stay long. Like I said, I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’ve lived here for six years, and believe me, if I didn’t come over to greet you, no one would.” She held up the dish. “Do you like chicken and broccoli?”

“I love it.” Hannah awkwardly took the offering and moved to the kitchen. “Thank you.” After storing the casserole out of paws’ way, she turned and found the woman bent over and scratching behind Costello’s ear. The dog’s tail wagged in ecstasy. “That’s Costello. My cat is around here somewhere. He’s Abbott.”

“Abbott and Costello.” The woman clapped once and laughed with delight. “That’s precious. I used to love to watch their films when I was a little girl.”

“So did their former owner. She named all of her pets after her favorite movie stars.”

Carolyn Carter stayed for at least ten more minutes, doing her best to learn as much about Hannah as possible. Was she married? Did she have children? Had she always lived in Atlanta?

“I don’t mean to pry, dear, but I can’t help but wonder—” She leaned closer to Hannah and said, “Are you a famous actress or something?”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?” She laughed. “No, I’m a nurse.”

Carolyn glanced at the window. “Oh, I just assumed with the police cars patrolling the neighborhood and that man outside —” She waved her hand dripping with rings dismissively. “Never mind me. I’m an aging housewife whose only excitement is what I see on television. My imagination runs wild sometimes.”

Hannah bit her lip, wondering how wise it would be to reveal the truth to her new neighbor. She wasn’t stupid. Chances were the woman would leave and be on the phone within minutes, sharing all that she had learned with a network of their more curious neighbors. Hannah had been living here for almost three weeks, and this was the first time any of them had attempted contact. She’d feared becoming a source of gossip after calling the police during the first break-in, and now she had police cars and strange men coming and going at all hours. Yeah, she’d have been curious too, but she didn’t want to scare the other residents unnecessarily by hinting they were in danger of burglary or anything.

“Well, I—”

She was saved from further explanation by the sound of the doorbell.

Hannah hurried to answer it, eager for any reason to usher this woman out.

Zach stood there, looking gorgeous and casual in jeans paired with a well-worn leather jacket. He tugged the sunglasses from his eyes as his lips spread into a killer smile—aimed right at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but his gaze drifted toward her guest. She saw confusion flitter across his face, but he recovered fast.

His grin kicked it up a notch when he leaned down toward her. Hannah wasn’t sure what shocked her more. The fast, firm press of his warm lips against hers, or the feel of his hand sliding to the small of her back. She slid into the curve of his body without an ounce of protest.

Before she could react, he reached his free hand toward Carolyn. “Hi, I’m Zach. You must be one of Hannah’s new neighbors.”

Carolyn’s face turned a shade redder than it had been as she accepted Zach’s gentle handshake. She quickly brought her hand back to her chest. “Nice to meet you.”

Hannah swallowed. Should she wrap her arm around his waist too? He obviously wanted to give the woman the idea they were a couple. Her left hand fluttered awkwardly at her side. She really, really wanted to touch him though.

“Um, Zach, this is Carolyn, my neighbor.”

“I appreciate you coming over,” he said, squeezing Hannah even closer to his side. “I’ve been so worried about Hannah since the break-in. It’s good to know she’s finally meeting some of the other residents.”

Hannah’s eyes widened—but probably not as much as Carolyn’s did.

“The break-in?” The woman’s hand fiddled with the necklace at her throat.

“Yes, I’m sure you saw the police cars and the ambulance.” He shook his head and sighed loud. He waved his hand toward the bruise on his face. “I almost caught the guys, but they clobbered me pretty good. I’m out of the hospital now, and I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure she’s safe.” He pointed his thumb toward the door. “My best friend Brian and my other friend, E.J., have been helping me keep an eye out. You haven’t seen anything, have you? Any strange behavior in the neighborhood?”

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