On the Scent

by Angela Campbell

  Oh, Zach. Surely he wasn’t blaming himself?

  A deep feeling of sadness for what he must’ve gone through rushed through her. She wanted to rush over and put her arms around him and—

  Zach’s mobile phone rang and snapped her out of her reverie.

  “What did your contact at Interpol say?” He moved to his feet and started pacing beside the table. He looked so intimidating when he moved. Dangerous. Kind of like a caged panther.

  Then again, Costello ambling slowly behind him like a tired, imitating, goofy child kind of ruined the effect.

  Hannah cleared her phone and set it aside. She preferred watching him. A few minutes later, he disconnected his call and turned his attention to her.

  “We’re still waiting to hear back from the agent in charge of the Fox’s case. Shouldn’t be much longer. Hopefully, once the diamond is back in the right hands and the media gets wind it’s been recovered, there will no longer be a need for anyone to come after you.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. “Thank you.”

  He explained that the car that had followed Kellan had gotten away. Yes, it had stolen plates and the police had found the car abandoned. Kellan and E.J. were trying to track down and interview any old friends and acquaintances Ellie Parham might have known while Brian was following leads on the man who had murdered Ellie’s husband.

  “We should have some answers soon.” He gestured to the papers she held. “Anything?”

  “I’ve barely started reading, but not so far.” A worried feeling settled in her chest as she thought about the effort his team was going through to protect her and the boys. “How’s Brian’s wife and baby? Is anyone helping them while he’s at work?”

  The suggestion of a smile pulled at his mouth. “They’re good. Don’t worry about them.”

  “I do. Brian should be home with them. It’s my fault he’s not.” There had to be some way she could make amends. “Let Brian know I’m willing to pay someone to help his wife until she’s adjusted. I know an agency. Some nurses. I can call them if it helps.”

  He moved to the other end of the plush sofa and sat down. “You know, for a woman who claims to hate people, you’re not very convincing.”

  “Hate is a strong word.” She crossed her arms and tucked her feet closer.

  “Alright. Why do you dislike people so much? Tell me.”

  Eric. What he’d done to her—

  She shook her head. She didn’t like to talk about it. Instead, she nodded to the stack of papers. “Take Ellie. She lied to me for years. I trusted her as if she was family.” Then there were the friends who’d stopped calling after her breakup. People she’d trusted to stick to her side, but who hadn’t. Only Sarah had. “You can’t trust anyone, Zach. You can’t.”

  She expected him to say, “You can trust me.” That’s what people always said when she uttered that declaration. But Zach didn’t. His eyes darkened, turned oddly cold, and he moved to his feet again.

  “Hannah, you’re a good person who cares.” He hesitated, and then turned back toward her. “Brian is always telling me I shouldn’t base my actions on other people’s. That I should do what’s right, no matter what.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Do you?”

  “I’ve been trying.” He sighed. “The point is, I don’t think you should give up on people. When I think of what you did for Brian the day his wife went into labor, and what you did for me when I was shot.” His cobalt eyes warmed. “Those aren’t the actions of a woman who hates people. Those are the actions of a woman who cares too much to give up being a nurse.”

  Darn him for seeing so much and making her feel all noble and hopeful again. She shifted uncomfortably. She needed a change of subject, fast. “How long have you and Brian been friends?”

  His glance dropped, and he turned his back again to move toward the table. She thought he wasn’t going to answer, but his tone was casual when he said, “A while. Since we were seventeen.”

  “You told me you ran away from home. Is that true?”

  He stilled. “I told you that?”

  She nodded. He’d been doped up on ketamine, but he’d told her.

  “Yeah, it’s true.” His smile was almost shy as he moved items around on the table. “I hopped a bus to California. He was the first person I met. He’d been running away from his family. We sort of clicked. Decided to team up and look out for each other.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She’d heard horror stories about teenage runaways. She couldn’t help but wonder what Brian and Zach had been forced to do to survive. A chill ran through her veins, and she rubbed her arms to chase it.

  She watched him. His eyes were lit with amusement. “We never fell into prostitution or drugs or any of that shit you see on TV. We weren’t on the streets long. As soon as we both turned eighteen, we enlisted in the Marines. We would have done almost anything for a good meal and a warm shower.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” His forehead creased.

  “Know what I’m thinking. It’s like sometimes you can read my mind or something.”

  His Adam’s apple moved beneath a swallow.

  “Wait. The Marines?” She didn’t know Zach had been a Marine. She sat up higher. “What happened after you joined the Marines?”

  His shoulders sank. “I was doing a training exercise with some other recruits. The vehicle we were in overturned in a ditch. Doctors said I was lucky. I only had nerve damage in my left arm. Earned me an early and honorable discharge.”

  “Oh my goodness, Zach.” She moved to her feet and hurried to his side. “What kind of nerve damage? Ulnar nerve?” Her fingers gently massaged along his arm muscles.

  “Yeah.”

  She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Why are you grinning?”

  “I’m grinning?”

  “You’re grinning. Stop it. I’m not feeling you up. I’m checking you out.”

  “It’s not as bad as it once was. I had surgery. Take meds. It only flares up every now and then.”

  He pulled his arm away, and Hannah realized touching him hadn’t been the best idea. She didn’t want to stop.

  “When I touch you do you…see stuff?” His head tilted a tad and his expression looked puzzled at her words, so she added, “You know. Psychic visions or whatever you call it?”

  His body tensed. “No. That’s not how it works with me.”

  Good.

  “I thought you did it that way on your show.” At least, she was pretty sure she remembered him holding objects and giving his impressions to the camera. She could’ve been wrong.

  His chest moved as he released a deep breath. “Some of that stuff was—” He paused. One of his hands moved to the muscles at the back of his neck. “It was staged, Hannah.”

  “Really?” Since she’d come to conclusion Zach had to be at least a little bit psychic, she couldn’t help but wonder why. Then another realization hit her, distracting her from the question. “That’s why you don’t like to talk about the show. I’m right, aren’t I? You’re ashamed you staged some things.”

  His eyes widened enough that she noticed. “Yes.”

  She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Poor man. He really had more integrity than she’d first credited him. “It’s okay, Zach. I kind of expected it. Most people do.” She found herself stepping closer to him. Close enough to reach out and reassure him by laying a hand on his upper arm. His very muscled, smooth, hard upper arm.

  “Hannah, I—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable by this detour in their conversation. She cleared her throat and jerked her hand away. No touching, remember? Her gaze turned hopefully toward the back door. “What are the chances I can go read those letters on the back deck? I’d love to get some sun.” And put some space between them before she combusted.

  His hands settled on his hips and his lips pulled tight as he moved to the back d
oor, pushed aside the door-length blinds he’d closed earlier, and glanced out. Through the slabs, Hannah saw a boat not too far in the distance.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s too dangerous. Maybe later when there’s not so many people out.”

  She sighed and crossed her arms. “I’m going crazy, trapped inside all the time. How can you bring me to a place like this and tell me I can’t go outside?”

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Fine.” She threw up her hands and settled back on the sofa beside where Abbott had curled up for his afternoon kitty nap. But it wasn’t fine. Not really.

  Frustration nibbled at her calm. Frustration that she was trapped inside again. Frustration not to have any answers yet about Ellie’s past.

  And frustration because she couldn’t throw herself at her sinfully sexy bodyguard. She reminded herself of the vow they’d made to avoid anything remotely romantic or sexual until her case was resolved. Patience. That’s all she needed.

  Good things came to those who waited, and she had no doubt Zachary Collins would be good. Oh, so good.

  She squirmed uncomfortably at the thought. Focus on helping Zach solve this case. Keep your mind out of the gutter.

  Costello’s paw nudged Hannah’s foot playfully, and she glanced down at the dog now sprawled on the floor. His tail started thumping a strong beat against the hardwood floor as soon as her eyes met his.

  “What are you doing, silly?” She moved the papers out of her lap, reached down and rubbed his stomach. “Are you a little bored too?”

  The dog made a long mewling sound that was a cross between a growl and a whine and that sounded remarkably like “Uh huh.”

  From across the room where he’d reclaimed his seat at the table, Zach heaved a loud sigh and began typing on the laptop. He was back in Macho Bodyguard Zone, stone-faced, focused, and completely oblivious to her again.

  Wasn’t he as frustrated as she was?

  Pacing on the back deck, Zach listened to his partner give him a rundown of what they’d all found so far.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Ellie Parham had been a mastermind at keeping her secrets secret, and whoever the hell was after that diamond wasn’t giving them much to go on either.

  “I’ll check in with you again tomorrow,” he told Brian. “Go home and spend some time with your family, man. Tell Jenny I’m sorry about this.”

  Ending the call, Zach stilled and rubbed at his eyes. He itched to be out there, actively investigating like the others, but who was he kidding? He was better suited to babysitting than footwork anyway. If the others couldn’t find anything, he was an arrogant sonofabitch to think he could.

  Not to mention he was now either psychic or crazy. Probably better to keep him on the sidelines.

  Hannah had been right. He’d known—and he had no idea how—but he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking earlier. No voice whispering in his ear or a vision flashing in his mind, but more of a feeling. Kind of like intuition. That thing he’d always referred to as his gut.

  He wished he could talk to someone, figure out what the hell was going on in his head. He hadn’t had a chance to contact the person Alexandra had recommended.

  What about Hannah?

  Could he talk to her? She was the only one here. He’d almost told her everything earlier. Dammit, he wanted to unload everything on her, ask her for help, beg her not to leave him when she found out he was fraud and an asshole, but she was still his client.

  But she was more than a client.

  Zach hesitated before going back inside. Part of him wanted to rip up Hannah’s contract and refuse her money so he could take her to bed. How could he? They needed the money. Brian needed the money. What would she think of him, if he revealed that he’d been nothing more than a con artist on TV? Opened up and let her know about Eric Meester? She wouldn’t want anything to do with him. That gleam of hero worship he sometimes saw in her eyes would disappear.

  Dammit.

  He wanted to solve this case so he could—what?

  He wouldn’t tell her everything, but there were some things she deserved to know. He owed her that much.

  Costello’s ears perked up and the dog flipped from his side onto his feet to shamble over to Zach when he stepped back into the room. Hannah was still curled up on the sofa, the cat stretched out beside her. She was nibbling at her lower lip as she intently studied one of the letters in Ellie’s collection.

  She needed to go put on some more clothes. She was making him nuts. He couldn’t handle the distraction of talking to her half naked again. It took all of his willpower to meet her gaze instead of leering at her sexy tanned legs. The V-neck shirt she wore dipped low and showed a lot of cleavage. Too much cleavage for sanity’s sake.

  She glanced up, caught him staring, and stretched her legs out. “What did Brian say?”

  “Not much.” His chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “Hannah, we need to talk.” His body remained tense as he moved to the smaller sofa facing her. Lowering himself to the seat, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and forced the words out. “I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. His heart skipped a beat, but he refused to cower again. “About what?”

  “When Ellie hired me a few years ago…” He almost choked on the words.

  She shifted the papers aside and drew her legs up beneath her so she could hug her knees. “Yeah?”

  He reached up to grip the back of his neck. “She asked me to do more than a background check on you.”

  Zach pushed to his feet and began pacing. If he paced, he’d have an excuse not to look at her. Looking at her made this too damn hard. Don’t be such a coward, Collins. Own up. He stopped directly in front of her. Met her gaze.

  “Ellie also used me to mediate a deal with your ex-fiance.”

  “A deal?” Hannah sat up straighter. “What kind of deal?”

  Zach’s voice was hesitant as he said, “She—I—paid him $50,000 to stay away from you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It took several seconds for Zach’s words to process, and even then, Hannah had a hard time grasping their meaning.

  She—I—paid him $50,000 to stay away from you.

  Why? Why would Ellie have even wanted to do such a thing? Hannah stood, hoping some movement would clear the confusion from her brain. Eric had been a huge part of her life until—

  She hugged herself and paced away from the sofa. Turning, she frowned at Zach. “Maybe you should back up and explain what the hell that means.”

  He did, explaining all that Ellie had hired him to do.

  “She asked me to deliver an envelope to him. I had no idea what was in it, until I got curious and peeked inside.”

  Looking away, Hannah nodded. Why did she have to relive this now? “You talked to him?”

  “Not really. Ellie asked me to wait for an answer to whatever was in that envelope. He accepted and…I left.” His expression suggested there was more to that story, but he didn’t elaborate. “I can only assume that he left you.”

  “Yes,” she hissed between clenched teeth, embarrassed by the memory. She closed her eyes. “On our wedding day.”

  Zach swore something incoherent. “Please tell me you’re joking, Hannah.”

  If only.

  She felt a little nauseated at the memory, remembering how she’d been squeezing into her wedding dress at the church when Eric’s best man had knocked on the door to hand Sarah a note. Eric hadn’t had the guts to tell her in person he had gotten cold feet and changed his mind.

  Three scribbled lines of apology with no real explanation, that’s all he’d given her.

  That had been such a humiliating time in her life, although it hadn’t taken long for anger to overtake embarrassment. For days she’d wallowed in heartbreak and despair, blaming herself, wondering why she hadn’t been good enough to be Eric’s wife.

  One day she’d looked at herself in the mirro
r and hadn’t recognized the desolate woman staring back at her. She’d hated it so much, hated feeling like she was throwing away everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish in her life, that she’d kicked herself in the rear.

  The memory made Hannah feel better. It hadn’t taken long for Hannah to feel nothing but blinding hot rage toward Eric too.

  Oh, no, but she’d surpassed rage when the credit card bills showing her deposits for the caterer, florist, musicians and photographer had arrived. She hadn’t necessarily wanted a large wedding, but Eric had persuaded her that his family would expect it.

  She’d called and asked him to split the debt—which had disgusted Sarah, who’d felt he owed it all—but he’d been cold, blaming her for pressuring him into a marriage he’d never wanted. “You can afford it. I can’t,” he’d insisted. That had been so not true, it had made her laugh.

  She’d pawned her engagement ring, using it to pay a small portion of what was owed.

  She’d maxed out the rest of her savings to pay for the nearly forty-thousand dollars in wedding expenses Eric had made sure were in her name only. Credit cards. Why had she charged everything? Oh yeah. She’d had plenty of face-palming moments in those days. When Ellie had suggested Hannah work as her live-in caregiver to reduce her living expenses, it had been a godsend idea.

  “Dear Lord,” she whispered now. “Are you telling me that’s why he stood me up at the altar? Because Ellie paid him to?”

  “Hannah, I’m so sorry. When I offered him the deal, it was weeks before your wedding. The bastard had plenty of time to call it off before then. Shit.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at Zach. “What did you find on the background check for him? Why would she do that?”

  She wanted, needed, to know.

  Zach said nothing for several seconds, simply met her gaze with steely-eyed conviction. “Don’t do this to yourself, Hannah.”

  She snorted. “He came to see me once, about eight months after the wedding. He apologized and wanted to know if I’d forgive him for what he’d done. I suppose he thought he could get more money out of the deal.”