Zach went in search of his phone and grimaced when he saw he had three missed calls—one from E.J. and two from Kellan. He rang Kellan back first.
“Where the hell have you been? I’m headed there to check on you.”
Zach blew out a breath. “I fell asleep. Alarm didn’t go off.” Hannah padded past him barefoot in those shorts and that tight shirt again, turning his mind to mush. Man, he had it bad. He must have been drooling because she rolled her eyes at him and moved into the kitchen. When she stretched up to look into a cabinet, exposing a tiny strip of bare skin at her waist, he forced himself to turn away.
“How far away are you?”
“Not too far. What’s the word?”
“Wilma,” Zach murmured, reciting the code they had agreed upon with Hannah for “everything is fine.” “Wally” was their code for “I’m in trouble and can’t talk on the phone.”
“Alright. I’m turning around.”
Good. They couldn’t have E.J. or Kellan or anyone connected with the office coming here for risk they were being watched or followed to get to Hannah. That had been their agreement.
He swore, cursing himself for compromising her location. Not to mention making his partners worry.
After Zach ended the call, Hannah slid her arms around his waist from behind and kissed his shoulder, causing some of the tension Kellan’s words had triggered to melt away. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” He turned and slid an arm around her. “Interpol is sending someone to look at the jewel. We’ll have to go back Tuesday to meet with them for that. It’s almost over, Hannah.”
She lowered her head to his chest and nodded.
He used his fingers to lift her gaze back up to his. “What’s wrong?”
A sad expression played at the corners of her mouth. “I only worry what it will do to Ellie’s reputation. As mad as I am at her right now, I don’t want it to come out in the press that she was the Fox. She worked so hard to put that all behind her and start over.”
He’d assumed she was worried about her inheritance being affected. He should have known. “Want some good news?”
She pretended to consider it. “If you insist.”
He smiled. “Statute of limitations has run out. Ellie’s money is safe. Even if Interpol wanted to pursue charges against Ellie or try to reclaim any of her money, they wouldn’t be able to.”
She blinked. “So Ellie’s name won’t be dragged through the mud?”
“Not likely.” He kissed her softly and then tugged her toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s eat. For some reason, I’m famished.”
He did everything he could to distract himself from his internal promise to tell her about his psychic abilities. She was so happy—hell, he was so happy, he didn’t want to ruin the moment.
Spending time, doing simple things like chatting about classic cinema over deviled egg sandwiches with Hannah felt like a novelty to Zach. Had he ever been so easy around another woman? He couldn’t remember it if he had. They tidied up the kitchen then Zach checked his email account while she called Sarah for her promised daily check-in. Afterward, they settled on the sofa together to go through more of Ellie’s papers. She snuggled into the curve of his arm as if her body was made for his. He loved the feeling. Loved having her so close to him.
“Zach?”
“Hmm?” He was skimming a copy of the deed to Ellie’s former house.
She gave up all pretense of studying the documents she held and slid her arms around his waist. “Why did you say I deserved better than you? Cause I gotta tell you, you’re pretty darn good.”
Damn. He’d wanted her to forget. He’d wanted more time with her.
He’d have rather chewed nails than talk about this now. She couldn’t hide that glimpse of vulnerability from her beautiful green eyes. That was his undoing. “I haven’t always been the best person, Hannah. My past is—” How did he say this?
She lowered her head to his chest and tightened her arms around him. “Everyone has a past, Zach. I care about who you are now.”
God, he hoped so.
“Tell me about your brother.” Her voice was soft. “What happened to him?”
His body tensed. How the hell did she know about Dylan?
She turned her face up to his again and whispered, “You showed me his picture when you were out of it—after you got hit by that tranquilizer.”
He wondered again what else he’d said or done. “I don’t know what happened to him.”
Her eyebrows furrowed.
“I haven’t seen him in years.” He sighed, thinking this is it. This is where it ends, after she finds out what a bastard I am. “I ran away from home when I was seventeen— a few months shy of graduation.”
Her breathing quickened. He looked away. “My mom married a real asshole when I was fourteen. He had it out for me from day one, knocked me around, wouldn’t get off my back. My mom either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He never touched Dylan. Only me.”
“I’m so sorry.” She slid a reassuring hand across his chest, resting it over his heart.
Her support was like a balm. The rest of the story spilled out without any more encouragement.
“One day my mom gave me her keys and asked me to pick Dylan up from baseball practice. We were sitting at a red light when a truck rear-ended us. Nothing major. We weren’t hurt, but it left a dent in the bumper. When the asshole saw it, he beat me until I could hardly walk. Told me I had wrecked the car on purpose for attention, as if anyone would be so stupid. That was it. I packed my bags, stole some money from my mom’s purse. Never looked back.”
Her arms tightened around him again. “Why didn’t you report him?”
“Didn’t see a point.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “He never messed with Dylan. He loved Dylan. He never touched my mom. Guess I figured no one cared, if she didn’t.” He sighed. “I’d always planned to go back for Dylan, but things weren’t that easy.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. Her eyes were wide. “You kept in touch with him though. Didn’t you?”
He’d sent his kid brother a postcard when he’d made it to San Diego for basic training. He’d wanted Dylan to know he’d joined the Marines. Wanted him to be proud his big brother was trying to do something noble.
Dylan never responded. He had no idea if his brother had gotten the card or not.
“After I got discharged from the Marines, I tried calling him, just to let him know I was okay. He wasn’t home. Ray answered, so I hung up.”
“You didn’t try again?”
Sure, he had. “After I became a P.I. in L.A., I tried again. I thought he might want to come visit.”
Her arms tightened around his middle. “Did he?”
“I never got the chance to ask.”
“You said you were working as a P.I. when a producer offered you the TV show, right?” Hannah’s voice was on the teasing side of curious.
His mind went back to those days. Brian had been shipped to Camp Pendleton for more training and was headed to Afghanistan after that. Zach had been alone. Lonely. Desperate. How the hell he hadn’t fallen into depression, he had no idea. His arm injury had killed his chances of being a cop like his father, but one day, he’d seen an employment ad in the classifieds for a well-known private investigations agency in Los Angeles. He couldn’t be a cop. He couldn’t be a Marine. Maybe he could go another route?
He’d been good at it, too. So good, his boss had taken a chance and given him some high profile cases within his first year.
Then, TV producer Connor Pruitt had read a report Zach had typed up—Pruitt’s intern had not only been selling spoilers to a magazine, the young woman had also been stealing props from the set and selling them on an Internet auction site—and asked, “How’d you figure this out so fast?”
Zach had shrugged. Nothing major. He’d made some calls. Followed the girl to the post office a few more times than seemed normal. Played a hunch.
The last thing Zach had wanted was to fall into Hollywood’s traps. “Not an actor. Sorry.”
But the guy had called again, a few days later. He’d explained that the show was meant to be a reality show featuring a real private investigator. “You don’t have to be an actor. Could be a lot of money in it for you. Great exposure. Sure you’re not interested?”
Zach had turned him down again. He didn’t have much, but he’d be damned if he’d lose his integrity.
“Why don’t you think about it and give me a call if you change your mind,” the producer had persuaded. “I have a good feeling about you, kid. An I-could-make-a-shitload-of-money good feeling.”
Him, a TV star? Ridiculous thought. Still, Zach’d wondered if his brother would get a kick out of the idea. Figured it would be a fun ice-breaker.
He’d tried to call Dylan again and froze when his mother had answered instead. He’d finally managed a strangled, “Hi, mama.” She’d cried and begged him to come home. He’d been tempted, but— “Is Ray still there?”
“Yes. Zach, please give him another chance.” She’d sobbed. “I lost my job. We’re about to lose the house. I can’t kick him out. We need him too much. Oh, Zach, I wish you would come home!”
Those words had weighed heavy on his conscience for days, until he’d finally called Connor Pruitt and asked if the producer was still interested.
“Sure, kid, but my partner wants us to find a psychic detective now. I don’t suppose you’re psychic?”
He’d actually thought of saying he was. He wanted, needed, the money to keep a roof over his family’s head. Maybe then his mother would ditch the loser and they could be a family again.
He’d made some asinine joke about psychics that had left the producer guffawing.
“Tell you what, Zach. You come down to our office tomorrow, and we’ll see what happens.”
Hannah lifted her hand and touched his face, bringing him back to the present and reminding him of her question. How much of this did he want her to know?
“Your show?” Her gaze radiated concern.
“Yeah, a producer was a client.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Sometimes when you’re young you make really bad decisions. I needed the money, so I signed on to do the show.” Connor’s partner had liked him enough to put Zach through a series of tests to judge whether or not he could pass for psychic.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you really had some abilities.” Connor had chortled after slapping Zach on the shoulder and congratulating him on winning the role, because that’s exactly how Zach had viewed it. As a role.
He’d sent his mother enough money to pay off the mortgage. When she’d called to thank him, he’d said, “You don’t need Ray anymore, mama. I’ll take care of you and Dylan.”
His mother’s hesitation had hurt almost as much as one of his stepfather’s beatings. “Zach, he’s a different man now. I…I love him. I don’t want him to leave. Please—”
He’d slammed down the phone and never spoken to her again. Every few months he sent her some money to put toward a college fund for Dylan, but he never answered her calls. Never responded to her letters.
She’d made her choice, and he’d made his.
Regret and remorse settled in the pit of his stomach, sending ripples of nausea through him. He supposed if he had to do it all again, he’d do the same—but he wouldn’t have let pride cut his mother out of his life. Now that she was gone…god, he felt sick.
Abbott jumped onto the sofa and plopped against Zach’s hip. Zach eyed the cat warily.
This doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I’m cold, and you’re warm. Get over it. The cat stretched out against his leg and went to sleep after delivering that haughty remark.
Costello stirred against Zach’s feet, and Zach had to admit, he felt cocooned by the woman and her pets. It was a comforting feeling, but he was supposed to be the one protecting, cocooning, her.
Alexandra King’s words from their encounter haunted him. They’d supposedly been his mother’s words. Hell, it was probably true, all of it, all of what she’d told him. Alexandra had known things …
Why haven’t you contacted Dylan?
The only time he’d reached Dylan on the phone, his brother had slammed the phone down as soon as Zach had said “Hey, kiddo.”
Why hadn’t he tried again? Because you know he’ll want nothing to do with you. Because you abandoned him. Because you’re a coward. He knew it was wrong, but he didn’t want Hannah to know how big of a coward he still was.
Damn Alexandra for reminding him of it.
“I’m still listening,” Hannah reminded him quietly. “Why don’t you like to talk about it?” He felt her muscles tense beneath his touch. “Sorry. Forget I said that. You don’t have to tell me.”
His mind was still with Alexandra back at the Marriot Marquis. Absently, he said, “It’s all in the past, Hannah. I just want to forget about it.”
Why haven’t you contacted Dylan?
How had Alexandra known about his brother? She had to be the real deal, as he’d suspected her of being all along.
His mind caught an idea. Ran with it.
Hannah was oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Okay. Tell me about your psychic abilities. When did—?”
He leaned forward, interrupting her question, grateful to have a reason to distract her. Maybe he didn’t have to tell her he’d been pretending to be psychic when he met her and that she’d hired him on false pretenses. He’d do everything he could to make it up to her.
He gently shifted her away from him. Gripping her shoulders and meeting her gaze, he asked, “Who is the one person who could answer all of our questions about Ellie’s past, and probably about Roglitz too?”
Hannah shook her head, confused. “I don’t know. No one, I guess.”
“Ellie.”
“Ellie?”
He nodded. “I think we should try and talk to Ellie.”
Chapter Seventeen
The gorgeous blonde standing on the other side of the door looked vaguely familiar to Hannah, but Zach had already explained she’d been featured on his show. Not that she looked like much of a star, dressed in leggings and a baggy t-shirt with her hair pulled back into a girlish ponytail. Even in the glow of the porch light, she looked beautiful and natural without any makeup.
Hannah ran a hand over her own hair, hoping she looked half as presentable but feeling anything but.
“Thank God you came,” Zach said in a rush, as if he was thrilled to see the other woman.
Hannah tried not to be jealous, much, and it helped when Zach reached across the threshold to—what?—hug Alexandra King in greeting and she immediately shoved him away.
“Try that again, Collins, and you’ll be walking funny for a week.” She held her hand up in warning.
“I was only going to look behind you and make sure you weren’t followed. Geez.” He shifted her aside and stepped toward her car.
The blonde sighed and held her hand out to Hannah. They’d finished introductions by the time Zach returned. “Why would I have been followed? What are you mixed up in, Collins?”
“Nothing.” He directed the other woman farther into the entryway and shut the door behind them. He stepped behind Hannah and wrapped his arms around her middle. “I didn’t see any headlights,” he whispered for her benefit.
Alexandra’s eyebrows shot up. “Nothing, huh?” She shook her head and stepped into the living room. Costello whined for the woman’s attention, and she looked happy to oblige. “You caught me in time. My flight leaves in the morning. What’s so urgent that we couldn’t do this on the phone?”
“I need your help.”
“No kidding.”
“I need you to contact someone.”
The blonde pursed her lips. “
Zach.” She sighed, but her eyes softened. “Who is it? You want me to talk to your mom some more?”
Zach’s arms tightened and his voice was firm as he said, “No.” He moved around Hannah, nudging her behind him with one arm, and she felt cold without his body against hers. “A friend of Hannah’s.”
His mom? Zach hadn’t mentioned that his mother had died, but she’d gotten the feeling he’d left a lot out of his story earlier. She’d hoped he trusted her enough to share it all, but she could see they still had a lot of work to do in that matter.
She needed to be patient, even if it nearly killed her.
How could he have thought she’d hate him once she’d learned of his past? He’d been young. Stuff happened. She admired the honorable man he was now. Didn’t he understand that?
Now that she’d seen a glimpse of the man behind the façade Zach liked to present, she felt confident she could handle the rest. He, apparently, also had a few more things to learn about her.
“Ellie was like a grandmother to me,” Hannah said, moving closer to the other woman. “She passed recently, and there are some things I really need to know. Please, can you help? I’m willing to pay whatever your rate is.”
She held her breath, waiting for Alexandra’s response. Would she ever get used to being able to tell people “I can pay you whatever you charge” without her mind racing to check the balance in her mental checkbook? She doubted it.
Nodding after a brief hesitation, Alexandra took a deep breath and threw up her hands. She sounded much kinder when she said, “Let’s do this then. You do want to do this now?”
“Please,” Hannah agreed.
Zach was standing quietly with his hands on his hips, intently focused on Alexandra as she gingerly stepped around Costello to find a seat on the sofa. Abbott decided to come out from his evening sleeping spot, his tail twitching straight in the air as he approached their visitor.
“These were her animals,” Alexandra declared matter-of-factly, rubbing Costello with one hand while stroking Abbott with the other.
Hannah heard Zach swallow, even as she thought, holy crap, how did she know that?
Alexandra peeked up from beneath her lashes as she bent to pet the cat generously. “She visits with them. At least, there’s a lady here now. She told me they were hers. ‘They’re my animals, my babies,’ she’s saying. It’s funny because I see her younger with lots of animals around her, too. She always had at least one pet.”
On the Scent Page 19
