Читать книгу On the Scent: A laugh out loud pet detective rom com! - Angela Campbell - Страница 8

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.