Читать книгу On the Scent: A laugh out loud pet detective rom com! - Angela Campbell - Страница 10

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.