On the Scent

by Angela Campbell

  Abbott made himself more comfortable in her lap. His four legs stretched until he was sprawled across her thighs. His purr vibrated against her leg as she slid her fingers through his silky hair. “We can go see him tomorrow.” She looked forward to the opportunity to get out of the house.

  Zach slid lower in his seat, spreading his legs wide and appearing so relaxed he looked almost…drugged? He’d been acting fidgety during most of this conversation. Should she be concerned?

  “Are you okay?”

  He reached up and tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Yeah.” He moved to his feet and paced to the window. Wrenching the curtain aside, he peeked out. “Good. Yeah, we’ll go in the morning.”

  What the hell was happening to him? Zach was getting excited, in more ways than one.

  He tried to focus on the task at hand—finding out more about Hannah—but it was hard.

  Kind of like he was getting hard.

  Damn.

  It had started when the cat had jumped in her lap. She’d started petting the animal, and a happy, relaxed feeling had washed over Zach. It had felt as if someone was running her hands through his hair. Pure ecstasy.

  The more he’d watched her stroke the cat, the more his thoughts had shifted in a different direction. The woman was gorgeous. Even dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that featured a popular cartoon character, her hair pulled back and hardly any makeup on.

  Not good.

  He ran a hand through his hair to try and distract himself from the odd feeling of someone else’s fingers there. No matter how attracted to Hannah he was, he couldn’t let it happen. She was his client. Right now, the agency’s most valuable client.

  “I know it’s a touchy subject, but I really do need to know if there’s anyone in your life who might be responsible for this.” He turned to face her. “Who knows where you live?”

  A half smile tugged at her mouth. “That’s easy. My best friend, Sarah, and her family. No one else.”

  “No one?”

  “I wasn’t joking when I said I don’t have many friends, Zach.” She shrugged. “Truth is, I hate people. I try to avoid them as much as possible.”

  Wait. She hated people? “You’re a nurse.”

  “Was a nurse. I haven’t decided if I’m going back to work or not.” She motioned toward the TV in the corner. “I can’t even watch the news anymore. People are horrible. I prefer my animals. Animals are much more innocent. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She cooed to the cat, who lifted its face to accept her kiss on its nose.

  Lucky cat.

  Something clicked. “You hired us to protect the cat and dog.”

  A weary smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Pretty sure I mentioned that.”

  He hadn’t taken her seriously. No one was that selfless. “So if someone had a gun to your head and another person had a gun to that cat’s head, who would you want me to save first?”

  “The cat. Of course.” She had a duh expression on her beautiful face.

  He moved closer. “So if someone had a gun to my head, and another gunman had your dog, you would save…?”

  Her eyelids drooped as she stared at him.

  He arched a brow. “Not gonna answer?”

  “I was thinking.” She pursed her lips. “No offense, but I barely know you. You’re a tough guy. You can protect yourself. I’m gonna have to go with the dog. We have history. You and I don’t. Sorry.”

  If only she knew.

  He glanced toward the framed photo of her and her friend, now placed on a shelf prominently in the room. The house was beginning to show clues of Hannah’s personality, but he would have never guessed at the bitterness hidden deep inside her. She’d choose a cat or dog’s life over a human’s? That was nuts.

  “Tell me about Sarah and her family.”

  Her expression relaxed. “I’ve known Sarah since middle school. We grew up together.” She watched the cat as her fingers continued to caress its fur, and Zach couldn’t prevent the slight moan from slipping past his lips. “My mother died when I was twelve. It was sudden. Brain aneurism.” There was no emotion in her words. He tried to focus on that, and it worked. His libido cooled. “She and my stepfather had only been married a few months. When she died…” Her voice trailed off. She glanced up. “I had no other family. He turned me over to DSS, and I ended up in foster care. Sarah was in foster care too. That’s how we met.”

  “What about your birth father?”

  His voice became more taut. “He’s not in the picture.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to do a background check. Make sure he’s not trying to cash in on a suddenly rich daughter.”

  Her lips thinned. “My mother left Ireland to get away from him. When she told him she was pregnant, he wanted her to have an abortion. I don’t think he even knows I exist.”

  Damn. “Your mother told you that?”

  Amusement lifted the edges of her mouth. “My mother told me he died in a car accident before I was born.” She shook her head. “I overhead my stepfather telling the social worker. Otherwise, I’d have never known the truth.”

  Zach couldn’t help but wonder if he’d found his first credible suspect. “Do you know his name?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Liam Kelly. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t contact him. Even if he’s still alive, I’m not keen to meet him.” Abbott finally grew tired of the petting and leapt to the floor. Thank God. Hannah’s gaze followed the cat. “Besides, I’ve been lucky. I was never abused. Teenagers rarely get adopted, but I did. An older couple—a preacher and his wife. Donald Patrick was more of a father to me in five years than any man I’ve known.”

  “Are you still close to him?”

  She shook her head. “Mr. Patrick died from a heart attack six years ago. Mrs. Patrick had a stroke and died a year later.”

  He stood behind the smaller sofa opposite her, his hands braced against the back of it. “That’s tough. Sorry.”

  She blew out a breath and gestured awkwardly toward the kitchen—or more precisely, he realized when she spoke, toward the trashcan. “Since we’re discussing my soap opera of a life, there was also Eric Meester, my ex-fiancé. It didn’t end well, but I haven’t seen or spoken to him in about three years. Last I heard, he’d moved out of state anyway.”

  Zach held still, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he asked, “How did it end?”

  “I told you—badly. I’d rather not go into those personal details if you don’t mind.” She pushed to her feet and moved into the kitchen. A hint of bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt showed when she reached up to retrieve a glass from the cabinet. He swallowed, forced himself to look away.

  “What about other boyfriends?”

  She turned and leaned back against the counter, taking a sip of the water she’d poured. “I can give you a list of names. It won’t be long.” Her fingers toyed with the glass. “Nurses work odd hours. I’m not a nun, but I haven’t had much time to date.”

  They spent the next hour going over possible suspects in Hannah’s life over a frozen pizza Hannah heated up. She didn’t give him much to go on. Eventually, she called the animals over to feed them.

  “It’s getting late.” She poured their food into their bowls and his stomach began churning. Begging with short growls and barks, Costello scrambled to his bowl and dove in with gutso.

  Yum. Yum. Yum. So good. So good. I’m so hungry. Gotta eat.

  Oh, no. Not again. Zach leaned back in his chair and tried to make sense of the ridiculous sensations and thoughts running through his mind. He stared as the cat darted out of hiding and began eating, much more slowly, hunched over his food bowl.

  Delicious. Tuna is my favorite. I love her so much.

  “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.” Hannah disappeared down the hall.

  Zach made sure she was out of hearing range before he leaned down and whispered, “Hey kitty. If you’re talking to
me, here’s your chance. Say something.”

  Licking his lips, the cat sat up and began rubbing his ear with his paw, over and over again.

  Nothing.

  “This still seems so surreal to me.” Hannah’s voice demanded his attention. He turned and saw her stacking some items on the corner of the sofa. “I mean, will you get any sleep, or are you supposed to sit here all night and…what? Guard over us?”

  “I’ll get some rest, off and on.” He stood to help her. “Don’t worry, Hannah. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She slid her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day. If you need anything, feel free.” She waved to the kitchen.

  She started to move away, but he caught her arm. Big mistake. As soon as he touched her, heat sparked from his fingers and rushed to his groin. Judging by the way her eyes widened, then darkened, she felt it too. “Don’t forget to get me that list.”

  A brief laugh shook her body. “I was kidding.”

  “I wasn’t.” He loosened his hold. “Ex-boyfriends. Friends. Stepfathers. Anyone you can think of. I only want to run a basic background check.”

  She stepped away, putting some distance between them. “You can’t be serious.” She leaned over and picked up the cat. “How would you feel if I asked you for a list of women you’d dated?”

  Uncomfortable. Awkward. He’d want to tell her it was none of her damn business.

  “I’m not asking because I want to know. I’m asking because I’m trying to protect you.”

  Liar.

  At the strong, foreign thought, Zach’s gaze met the cat’s. Abbott was in Hannah’s arms, staring right back at Zach with an intent look.

  A look that called him a liar.

  “Fine.” Hannah whistled for Costello to follow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Zach waited until her bedroom door was closed before grabbing his mobile and dialing Brian’s phone number. His finger quickly hit END before the call could be sent.

  What would he say? That he thought he could actually hear what these animals were thinking? His friend would insist on him seeing a doctor, or get pissed because he’d think Zach was back to his old tricks.

  Try calling Alexandra King.

  His head snapped back on a whoa sensation of where the hell did that thought come from? Alexandra King. That was a name he hadn’t thought of in a while.

  He scrolled through the names in his phone’s contact list. He stopped on the woman’s number, surprised it was still in his phone. He could just imagine that conversation.

  Hell no.

  Shaking his head, he decided to check the perimeters. Hannah’s bedroom door was closed, and he assumed the animals were in there with her.

  A laugh bubbled up from his chest. Wasn’t this his luck? Of all the cool psychic powers he could suddenly possess, he was some kind of lame pet psychic. He sobered. Wait. Was he actually believing this now?

  He needed to wrap his head around whatever the hell was happening.

  Stepping outside, he drew in a breath of fresh air. A woman’s life depended on him keeping her safe. He needed to get his shit together. Needed to figure out what was wrong with his head, and soon.

  He didn’t want to be responsible for any more deaths.

  The light coming through the curtains stung Zach’s eyes hours later. There was also an unfamiliar weight on his chest. He blinked his vision into focus, and a pair of almond-shaped eyes stared back at him.

  Get out.

  Zach started, but the action didn’t jostle the cat. It was lying on his chest as if it had been there a while. Watching him sleep.

  Are you an idiot? We don’t want you here. Leave.

  The cat’s left paw stretched toward Zach’s neck. Its claws flexed and pierced his skin. A slight purr followed the action.

  “Aw, look.” Hannah’s voice came from somewhere behind him. “Abbott likes you.”

  Zach wiggled his way into a sitting position, and the cat finally jumped away. He glanced at the clock. It was past seven.

  He rubbed his throat. The jingle of the dog’s collar and tags drew his attention. He wasn’t used to getting up so early, not especially after only catching a few hours of sleep. Hannah was dressed in a pair of jeans and a different t-shirt. Her hands toyed with a leash.

  “Sorry to wake you, but I always take Costello on an early morning walk.” She leaned over to ready the dog, who was wiggling his butt in obvious excitement.

  “Can’t you let him out in the backyard?”

  She straightened and frowned at him. “I could, but I’m not going to.” She reached for the lanyard that held her key. “I usually take him for a walk in the morning and at night for exercise. Poor guy has only been getting walked in the mornings since this all happened.” She nodded toward the cat, who was lounging on the floor near him. “Are you gonna stay here with Abbott, or should I grab his kennel?”

  Zach sighed and rose to his feet. “You’re not going anywhere alone. I’ll grab the bag. Where is it?”

  A few minutes later, Zach wished he’d remembered his sunglasses before venturing on their walk. He squinted against the early morning sun, even as he glanced around, taking in their surroundings. The mesh bag containing Abbott bumped against his side as he kept pace beside the woman and dog.

  I want out of this bag. Oooooh, look at that bird.

  I want that bird.

  I want it.

  Zach looked down and followed the cat’s intense stare toward one of the neighbor’s yards. A red bird was perched on a birdfeeder. A low growling sound came from the animal he was carrying.

  But that wasn’t all.

  I love the outdoors. I love going on walks. I love to pee.

  Hannah stopped walking, and Zach’s gaze fell to the dog who had hiked his leg and was peeing on a bush. The dog’s thoughts were much simpler and way less menacing.

  He reached up a hand and rubbed at his eyes.

  This couldn’t be happening to him.

  “Did you get much sleep?” Hannah’s voice was a nice distraction from the strange thoughts scrambling through his brain.

  “A few hours.”

  “Same here.”

  She didn’t look like it. No bags under her eyes. Her green gaze seemed clear, focused, and beautiful.

  An image of Hannah, her hair down and dressed in a tank top and shorts, lying in bed reading a book flashed through his mind. Blinking, Zach felt disoriented for several seconds. He glanced down and saw the cat staring up at him through the mesh front of the bag.

  “Meow.”

  He realized Hannah and the dog had moved ahead of him. His feet felt heavy as he followed.

  “Hannah.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you read a book last night?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Do you have pajamas—a tank top that has a funny-looking rabbit on it? I think it says—”

  She gaped. “It says ’A makeover. You need to be run over.’”

  He nodded.

  Hell. This was real, wasn’t it?

  “How did you know that?” Hannah demanded.

  He took a deep breath and attempted to smile. “Psychic, remember?” His fingers trembled slightly when he reached to adjust the shoulder strap of the cat’s bag.

  “Right.” She looked almost as weirded out as he felt. “Is something about that important?”

  “I don’t think so. I get random, uh, flashes sometimes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” He swallowed. Hard.

  The dog in front of them kept passing gas and then whipping his head around. What was that? Who did that? Zach felt a chuckle bubble from his chest.

  “He does that a lot—gives little toots and then acts like he doesn’t know who did it.” She shrugged and added, in a baby voice, “Silly, Costello. Silly, silly boy.”

  “Oh, he’s not acting.” Zach shook his head. “He really doesn’t know he’s doing it. He’s not too bright, your
dog.”

  Hannah gasped. “Zach! Hush your mouth.” But she was grinning. “Costello is smart when he wants to be. You’d be surprised.”

  He didn’t want to ruin her perceptions of the dog, who he evaluated was as dumb as a brick, so he kept quiet.

  They’d nearly finished their walk in silence when Hannah spoke again. “How long have you known you were psychic? Have you always been that way?”

  Of all the questions to ask.

  “No, not always.” He gripped the strap of the cat’s kennel. “I’ve always had –” He searched his mind for the best word. “Good instincts. It took me a while to realize I was psychic.”

  There, that was at least the truth. He didn’t want to lie to this woman anymore than he already had.

  Had he always been psychic and not known it? He’d trained himself how to read people’s tells. Living on the streets that had been how he’d survived. And he’d always followed his instincts. They’d never let him down.

  But psychic?

  Maybe he had been. Hell. He had no idea.

  “There was a case on the show once.” He spoke aloud, but more to organize his thoughts than for conversation. “A little girl was missing. I helped lead the police right to her.”

  “I remember. That’s one of the episodes I saw.”

  He nodded. It had been one of the last episodes of his time on the show, period. He’d quit soon after. Zach remembered how spooked he’d felt when the police raid had produced the girl and her kidnapper. He’d studied the police files, picked up on a few details while talking to some of the witnesses to her abduction, listened to his gut, and prayed his logic would pan out.

  Seeing that little girl being carried out of the building in a police officer’s arms had hit him hard. What if he’d been wrong? Lives were at stake. A real psychic, if they actually existed—maybe even Alexandra King—might have found that girl sooner.

  So he’d quit and founded the agency with Brian, putting his “psychic” past behind him. They’d used his name to lure clients in, but he’d never accepted a case from a client expecting a psychic resolution.

  “I can’t imagine being able to do what you do,” Hannah said, drawing him back to the present. “I have to admit. I’m a little skeptical about psychics.”