Arousal sparked a fire in her veins. She moaned and pressed into him, hungry for some kind of human contact that didn’t involve danger. But in the back of her mind, she knew he was dangerous. This man could destroy her in a way no one else had. She sensed it, but was powerless to resist the urge to lower her defenses and let him inside.
His grip on her forearms suddenly pushed her away. “I need to go.”
Zach moved to stand, sliding away from her. Hannah’s cheeks grew warm. He’d rejected her. Why? Because she was his client. That thought only made her more confused. How could she possibly pay him enough after this? Consoling an emotionally unstable woman wasn’t part of their contract. Sweet heavens, she was mortified.
Instead of leaving her, Zach reached down and scooped her into his arms.
“You should get some rest,” he told her. “You’ve had a rough day.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ve got an errand to run. Kellan and E.J. will be right outside if you need them. When I get back tonight, we’ll figure out some things, alright?”
She nodded and tried not to cling to him when he gently lowered her onto her bed. Their eyes met and they both stilled, their warm breaths mingling as he hovered above her.
She wished he would kiss her again. She wished he’d do more than kiss her.
When he turned to move away, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “Thank you, Zach.”
His fingers squeezed hers before letting go. “Relax for a little while. I’ll be back soon.”
When he shut the door behind him, Hannah wiped away the last of her tears and tried to will herself to sleep. If she was lucky, she could escape reality for a few hours. If she was really lucky, Zach would be waiting for her in her dreams.
Chapter Twelve
“So they found the jewel?”
“Oh, they found it alright.” Glancing at his watch, Fox slid into the passenger seat of his partner’s car.
It had been touch and go for a few minutes, but he’d managed to lose the police after weaving through some one-way streets and ducking into a back alley, where he’d ditched the car and fled on foot. He’d wandered into a touristy part of the city, blended into the crowds, and phoned his accomplice. Years of evading the police had come in handy.
“Did they leave it at the bank or move it?”
“That’s a damn good question.” He peeled away part of the disguise that altered the shape of his nose. Stupid latex was starting to itch. “Collins is smarter than I gave him credit for. How in hell did he figure out the collars?” He swore and slammed his fist against the dashboard.
“What does it matter? All we needed to know was where the old lady had stashed the diamond. Now we can move forward with our plan. We don’t need the Dawson woman or her pets anymore. This is good, right?”
He hated working with a moron. His fingers drew into a painful fist, but he resisted the urge to strike out again. “I want this Collins guy out of the way. He’s too good at figuring things out. That makes him dangerous. Besides, we don’t know for a fact the jewels are still at the bank. Collins could have moved them.”
The sound of his partner swallowing hard betrayed the younger one’s sudden unease. That grated on his nerves almost as much as his partner’s naivety. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find out. They haven’t discovered the bug I planted yet. We can listen to—”
“You can listen,” he interrupted harshly. He brushed the side of the gun holstered at his side. “I’ve got more important things to do tonight.”
Zach walked past the law firm’s secretary and straight into Franklin L. Russell’s office, the older man’s assistant dogging Zach’s heels like a yappy pup. Not that he paid her much attention.
“We need to talk,” he informed Russell, who glanced up from studying paperwork with no hint of surprise in his expression.
Russell looked past Zach to his secretary and said, “It’s alright, Margaret. Please give us some privacy.”
Once the door was shut, Zach planted his hands on the edge of Russell’s desk and leaned forward. He tried to keep the bite out of his tone, but it spilled onto every syllable. “Let’s agree to be honest with one another from here on out. I’ve got a short list of suspects of who’s behind this shit, and you’d better believe you’re at the top of the list.”
“Careful, Mr. Collins. That sounded dangerously close to an accusation.”
“Good.” Zach pushed himself away from the desk and braced his hands on his hips. “I’m glad I made myself clear.”
Russell’s gaze never wavered from his. The attorney leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Perhaps you’d better explain yourself.”
Zach did, recapping the events of the day for the man who never betrayed an ounce of surprise—until the mention of the jewels they’d found. Russell’s eyebrows shot up for a brief second before he cleared his face of emotion.
“So I have to ask myself, who would Ellie have confided in about the collars?” He paced calmly now as he spoke. “It wasn’t Hannah. From what I understand, that only leaves one person. You.” Zach leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the desk again. “From where I’m standing, that gives you the biggest motive to be behind all of this.”
The attorney’s mouth curved up. “It’s a plausible theory, but there are far too many holes in your scenario for it to hold much weight, Mr. Collins.” He gestured toward the closed door. “For example, if I knew about the collars, why not simply take them? Why go to such elaborate means when I could have simply paid a visit one afternoon and taken a peek when Hannah wasn’t looking?”
Damn. He’d called Zach’s bluff.
“Besides,” Russell added, leaning forward again. “What good does knowing about the collars do if I’m not able to access the box? From what you indicated, Hannah is the only person with the authorization to get in and out of the vault.”
And that made her a target, every bit as much as Abbott and Costello had been before. Shit. Zach straightened and ran a hand through his hair.
“When Ellie insisted on hiring you, I tried to convince her to use someone else,” Russell said. “But I’m beginning to understand what she saw in you.” Sighing, he stood, shrugged out of his jacket and laid it across the back of his chair. “She always had an amazing ability to judge people.”
The attorney moved to a mini bar and poured himself a glass of Scotch. He lifted the glass of amber liquid to his lips, swallowed, and focused on Zach again. “Care for a drink, Mr. Collins?”
“I’d prefer some answers.”
Shrugging, Russell gestured to the two chairs facing the desk. He angled one to face the other before taking a seat. “I’ll deny telling you any of this if you try to make it public. Understand?”
Zach lowered into the second chair and nodded.
Russell tilted the glass and emptied it in one gulp. His eyes glassed over as he stared at the wall above Zach’s head. “Ellie would be horrified if she knew the trouble Hannah was having. She was afraid of it, though. She went through a lot to ensure Hannah never became a target, but I suppose no plan is fool-proof, is it?”
“Come on, Russell, tell me what you know.” Zach didn’t want to be away from Hannah for too long. Especially now that he’d realized how much danger she was in.
Russell leaned back in his chair. “Ellie and my father were childhood sweethearts. Their families were well connected in Atlanta society. I have no doubt they would’ve ended up married if Ellie hadn’t gotten a taste for independence and decided to travel Europe with her cousin one summer—back in 1960, I believe it was. My father told me that it didn’t take her long to stop writing, and after a few months, she finally called to tell him she’d met someone else.”
“Caleb Lightner?”
Russell’s eyes widened. “Very good, Mr. Collins.” He nodded. “Yes, she married him shortly after that. My father was heartbroken, but he had his career in law to fall back on, and eventually, he met and married my mother.”
>
“Go on.”
“I remember meeting Ellie and her husband one June when I was, oh, maybe eight years old. They showed up at our beach house in Savannah one day. They were staying in her family’s summerhouse down the road. After that summer, I considered them to be Aunt Ellie and Uncle Caleb. My mother and Ellie got along very well. We spent holidays together. Ellie would often send me postcards from the exotic places she and Caleb traveled during the year.”
“They never had children of their own?”
“No, I assume they were unable. I think that’s why Ellie always had a dog or cat—or both—to nurture. Abbott and Costello aren’t the first animals she rescued from a shelter.”
Zach reached into his pocket and retrieved the photo of Ellie and two men he’d taken from the photo album they’d found.
“Is this your father?”
Russell leaned forward to look. His shoulders lifted with tension. “Where did you get that?”
“Is it your father?” Zach repeated, tapping the image of the second man.
“No. That’s Roglitz.” His chest heaved beneath a deep sigh. He lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes. “He’s the man who murdered Ellie’s husband.”
“Murdered?” What the hell?
Russell nodded. “These are not good memories.”
Zach tried to ease off. It was obvious this man had cared a lot about Ellie and her husband, but he could only afford so much empathy now that the stakes were so much higher. “Please, Mr. Russell. If you know anything that could help save Hannah’s life, I would love to hear it.”
Setting his empty glass aside, the older man leaned forward and fingered the picture. “I had just started making a name for myself in my father’s law firm when he called me to his house one day and said he had an urgent matter to discuss with me. He’d retired early. Cancer. It was sometime in the 80s. I can’t remember.” He shook his head and stood up. Zach watched as he refilled his glass and took another drink. “That’s when I learned more than I cared to know.”
“What did you learn?”
“Caleb had been killed, and Ellie was back in Atlanta. She needed our help to escape some of the things she’d done.” He took another swallow of the amber liquid. “My father was a stand-up attorney, but he would’ve done anything for her, as he knew I would.” He turned and waved his glass toward Zach. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a drink?”
Zach shook his head.
Russell loosened his tie and returned to his seat. “My father told me that Caleb and his best friend, Peter Roglitz, had been performing jewelry heists for years, and Ellie had gotten involved once she’d married him. Together they’d performed some of the biggest heists in Europe. Have you ever heard of the Fox, Mr. Collins?”
Zach reeled back, feeling a little confused and overwhelmed.
“Neither had I, but Interpol had been chasing after him for years.” A harsh laugh escaped his throat. “Funny thing was, the Fox wasn’t just one person. The Fox was Ellie, Caleb and Peter combined. They were a team.”
Zach leaned back in his seat, trying to take it all in. The elderly woman Hannah had adored had, in fact, been a world-class jewelry thief? He blew out his breath on a ripple of disbelief.
Russell continued his story. “As these things usually go, Roglitz decided he wanted Ellie for himself, enough to get his best friend out of the way permanently. He killed Caleb and tried to make it look like an accident, but Ellie knew better. She’d loved her husband and never even realized Roglitz harbored secret feelings for her. She helped the police put Roglitz away, and since the murder had happened in Chicago, he was sent to a prison in Illinois. He was only sentenced to forty years.”
Zach was beginning to connect the dots on his own. “Ellie came to your father because she wanted to change her identity.”
“She wanted a new life,” Russell agreed. “She had lost her husband and felt nothing but remorse for the things she’d done. I suspect she was worried Interpol would soon be on her doorstep too, but Roglitz wasn’t stupid. Admitting that he or Ellie was the Fox would’ve gotten him even more time in prison and hurt his chances of ever getting out. She was also worried Roglitz would escape, as he’d threatened, and seek her out for revenge. We helped her change her name and secured the trust fundher parents had left her so it couldn’t be touched. She spent the rest of her years living here in Atlanta modestly, with only her animals to keep her company, until Hannah came along.”
As the older man spoke with such a sincere tone to his voice, it became obvious to Zach that Russell had known nothing about the jewels Ellie had hidden. He’d honestly believed the old broad had been on the straight and narrow.
Zach felt a pang of sympathy for the attorney.
“What happened to Roglitz? Is he still in prison?” Either way, the man would have to at least be in his eighties by now—and what kind of threat could he pose?
The attorney wiped a hand across his face. “He’s been denied parole every time. He should’ve gotten out last month, but since Ellie had passed, I didn’t think—” His eyes widened. “You don’t think he’s behind this, do you? The man would be too old to be a threat.”
Moving to his feet, Zach itched to get to his car so he could call and initiate a background check on Roglitz. Old or not, the man was his best lead so far in this case.
Thrusting a hand through his hair, he turned to the attorney. “If you were so protective over Ellie’s identity, how did her inheritance to Abbott and Costello get leaked to the press with that photo?”
A sarcastic rumble of laughter shook Russell’s chest. “Damn reporter came across it in the probate records.” He shrugged. “Some good came from it. It helped us get Hannah her inheritance sooner.” He shook his head. “But without that reporter coming across the probate records—” He swore.
Without a word, Zach turned and headed for the door. This was good information. Things were starting to make sense. He’d feel better piecing the rest of the puzzle together with Hannah and her pets in sight.
“Mr. Collins?” Russell’s voice caught him on the way out the door. He turned and acknowledged the entreaty. “Did you really find jewels in that vault?”
Zach nodded. “Yes.”
He sighed, long and hard. “I suppose she had to have a few secrets left, didn’t she?”
Zach turned again to leave but hesitated. The old guy looked defeated. “I’m sure she was protecting you by keeping some of the details to herself.”
Russell lifted his glass and pointed at Zach. “She did that, didn’t she, protected people? Or some might even say manipulated. Like she did with Hannah. Tell me. Does Hannah know what we did then?”
Zach shook his head. “With Eric Meester? No. She knows Ellie hired me to do a background check on her.”
The older man settled the empty glass on the desk beside him and stood, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his tailored slacks. “I hope she doesn’t hate us for our involvement, but God help us, I’m sure she will.”
A heavy feeling weighed down Zach’s tongue, but he spoke anyway. “I don’t think she will if we tell her the truth before she finds out on her own.”
Was it really so bad—what they’d done to her and Meester? The man hadn’t deserved her. She’d been headed for heartbreak.
Sure, but she’d deserved to make the choice herself. Not be manipulated. His conscience nagged him.
Russell nodded, looking again much more like the calm and collected attorney with whom Zach was familiar. He met Zach’s eyes. “Get them out of Atlanta before it’s too late, Collins.”
Zach turned and hurried to his car. He’d been thinking the same thing. But first, he had an appointment to keep.
He spotted Alexandra as soon as he walked into the artsy lounge at the Marriott Marquis. The Pulse lived up to its name, with attractive young people spread among the red seats, sipping drinks and mingling while music vibrated through speakers he couldn’t see.
Alexandra kept flick
ing glances at the watch on her wrist. He’d passed signage promoting the Healthy Mind, Body and Spirit Wellness Conference with times listed for various activities. She must be scheduled for one.
He slid onto the empty seat next to her. She flung her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her shapely legs so she was angled toward him. Dressed in a black pantsuit with high-heeled boots, she looked pristine and professional.
“I was about to give up on you, Collins.”
“Sorry. I got held up with business. Thanks for waiting.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as she met his. “I almost didn’t. Call me crazy, but I’m intrigued by what you said on the phone.”
He noticed some women at the bar watching him with a familiar look that implied they recognized him from TV. Damn. The people at this conference might know him, and that made him uncomfortable.
“Maybe we could go somewhere more private,” he suggested, shifting awkwardly.
“No way, Collins. I’m on a panel in thirty minutes. A girl has to make a living. Do you wanna talk or not?”
He recapped what he’d told her on the phone and asked the question that had been at the heart of his thoughts ever since. “Can a person develop abilities after experiencing a head trauma? How does it happen?”
She shrugged. “It’s different for everyone. Most psychics I know have had their abilities since childhood. Are you certain you didn’t have these abilities before?”
“I don’t know. I was always good at reading people. Had good instincts. But psychic?” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“The thing with the animals—that’s new?”
“Never happened until now.”
She looked thoughtful. “You could be a telepath, but they’re extremely rare. Probably always been a clairsentient. Maybe an empath. Do you feel the animals’ thoughts or hear them?”
He held up a hand in a half shrug. “Hear them, mostly. Sometimes it comes across as feelings.”
On the Scent Page 14