She still refused to look at him. Tough, cause he wasn’t done yet. He slid forward until he was on the edge of his seat. “Remember how I got hit on the head at your house?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“I don’t know what the hell happened to me after that, but since then, I can communicate with your animals. Hell, I’m hearing and feeling all kinds of things when I’m around different animals and people. I thought I was going crazy at first. Took me a while to figure out the thing I’ve been pretending to be for so long might not be so off base.”
Her lips and brow turned downward. “You mean, suddenly you think you’re psychic?” She shook her head. Her tone was harsh, but her beautiful face looked like it would crumble at any second. It broke his heart. “Nice try, Zach. I’m not buying it.”
He swore and searched his mind for a way to convince her. “It’s true. I called Alexandra for help because she’s the only legit psychic I know. She helped me figure some things out.”
“I’m sure.” She snorted.
“Hannah, I barely know the woman, but I promise you we’re not trying to scam you. None of us are.”
One of her shoulders lifted in a weak shrug. “I’ll admit, I can’t figure out how you knew some things, but I’m sure I probably give away some info without realizing it. Everyone does, don’t they? That’s how you did the show?”
He sighed. “Yes, but—”
“You could’ve told me you weren’t really psychic, Zach. It wouldn’t have mattered to me. I get that a lot of TV shows are staged. We could have laughed about it. I probably would have still hired you because of your agency’s reputation.” She tore her gaze away again. “That’s what I’m having trouble with—that you lied to me from day one. You continued to lie to me after I thought we had a connection. How do I know I can trust you?”
“Give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“How?”
He’d decided to use the cat and dog to perform a show-and-tell to convince her he could read their damn thoughts, maybe ask them some questions he couldn’t possibly know the answer to. Glancing around, he wondered where the hell the cat had gone. Costello was lounging between them on the floor. The dog would have to do.
Zach whistled and patted his leg. “Come ‘ere, boy.” The dog’s ears perked up and he ambled over. “Let’s ask him some questions only he knows the answer to. Okay?”
She said nothing, looking down at the cushions beside her.
“First question, Hannah. What is it?” Please. Give me a chance.
With a heaving sigh, she glanced toward the ceiling. “I don’t know. Ask him … ask him what day of the week Ellie and I brought him home from the shelter.”
Damn. Would a dog even understand that question? Zach lifted Costello’s muzzle, looked the mutt in the eye, and repeated it aloud.
Huh? Costello opened his mouth and panted.
Zach repeated the question.
I saw a squirrel today. Can we eat now? Can I eat the squirrel if I see it again?
“Can’t you think of something easier?” Zach scanned the room for the cat. The cat might understand. The cat was scary intelligent in a diabolical kind of way. “Something more recent? I don’t think he understands the question.”
“Of course he doesn’t.” She reached up a hand and wiped away a tear. She was crying?
“Hannah—”
She scooted off the sofa. “Forget it, Zach. Just give me some time to think. I want to believe you, but I don’t know.” Pushing her hair back with one hand, she looked composed and unaffected. Maybe he’d imagined the tears. “Will you please take Costello out for a walk, or do I have to do it?”
Her tone implied she was a powder keg about to explode if he said no. He held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll take him.”
“Thank you. I’m going to bed. I need to think about some things.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she turned away quickly.
The hours had ticked by at an unbearably slow rate.
Double checking her bag that she had everything she needed—her ID, her phone, the directions she’d scribbled down—Hannah rubbed at her tired eyes and reached for the keys to the SUV she’d swiped from Zach’s room last night while he’d been walking Costello.
She’d been as nervous as a kitten in a dog pound all night, expecting him to barge into the room and demand to know why she’d taken them, but he’d remained in the other room, making little noise, oblivious to her devious planning.
She’d also borrowed his laptop to look up information about Oakland Cemetery and to email Detective Ryan, who had yet to return her two phone calls and messages. Her fingers had wanted to type Why the hell haven’t you been returning my freaking phone calls? but her mind had reined in the panic and kept it cordial. She was hoping and praying he was waiting until the morning to call her back, because she didn’t know what to do if she didn’t hear from him. Her plan was to proceed with the kidnappers’ instructions until the detective told her otherwise. It might not be the smartest thing she’d ever done, but what was she supposed to do? Ignore the call? Not show? Those weren’t options. Sarah had always been there for her, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her best friend in the hands of a maniac when Hannah was the reason Sarah was there in the first place.
She’d also spent most of the night debating telling Zach what was happening. In the end, she didn’t know if she could trust him, especially after that ridiculous scene with Costello last night. Why was he trying so hard to convince her he was psychic when he’d already admitted he wasn’t? He was trying to con her again, but why?
Abbott jumped onto the bed and sat on her bag, demanding attention. The cat had been in her hair all night, walking across the computer keyboard while she used it, rubbing against her elbows seeking adoration as she typed. Hannah picked him up and cuddled him now, finding comfort in his vibrating purr against her chest. “I love you so much, kitty. I’m sorry I have to leave you here, but it’s the only way.”
The cat pushed his head against her neck and nuzzled her. He was being unusually affectionate. She really did hate to leave him, and Costello too. She hadn’t heard the dog all night pawing at her door to get in, so she knew he’d stayed with Zach. Traitor.
At six-thirty, she quietly made her way out of the room, pausing to listen for any movement from Zach. All was quiet. She half expected Costello to come bouncing at her in early-morning greeting, but he didn’t. She hated not telling the dog goodbye, but she couldn’t risk searching him out. She had to stick to her plan, or everything would fall apart. Hurrying to the front door, she reached into her bag for the note she’d written and slid it onto the entryway table. She steeled her nerves and refused to look back as she slipped outside, shutting the door behind her as softly as she could manage.
Stay calm. You can do this. Zach is still asleep. You’re good.
She slid into the driver’s seat of the SUV, adjusted the seats and mirrors and turned the ignition over. It wasn’t until she was on the highway that she stopped glancing in the rearview, expecting Zach to be behind her.
The air was cool and refreshing as Zach took Costello for an early-morning walk along a trail he’d discovered yesterday behind the building. He’d barely slept, battling memories of Dylan and his mother alongside more recent ones of all the sins he’d committed against Hannah. It had been hell, resisting the urge to demand that she listen to his arguments. He was much clearer now on what he wanted to say to her, and dammit, he would force her to listen this morning.
He’d start with letting her know he was voiding her contract with the agency. He would never take a dime from her. Surely that would make a dent in the wall she’d put up between them last night. He might lose the agency, but it was worth it if he had her.
In the distance, the hum of a vehicle’s engine kicking over mingled with the chirp of birds and crickets. That was odd. Maybe one of their neighbors was heading back to the city for work this morning.
; The sound made him uneasy for a reason he couldn’t describe.
“Come on, boy.” He steered Costello back in the direction of the condo. He decided to walk around the building to make certain it was secure before going inside and froze when he saw the SUV was missing from the driveway.
Hell.
His feet pounded the dirt and the dog struggled to keep up with him as he rushed inside to verify Hannah was missing and someone hadn’t only stolen their vehicle. She wasn’t in her room. She was nowhere to be seen.
“Meow.” The cat jumped onto the back of the sofa.
She’s gone, you idiot. You gotta go after her. She’s in trouble. Understand what I’m saying?
“What? What kind of trouble?”
Check the message she left you. The cat jumped down and hurried over to the table near the door. Over here. Hurry up.
There was a note, and Zach skimmed it.
Zach, I had to get away to clear my head. Be back later. Please take care of the boys while I’m gone. I’ll be fine.
Shit. Why the hell would she risk leaving when there was still a madman somewhere out there, stalking her? Did the woman have no common sense? His fist crumpled the note and tossed it across the room along with a loud growl of frustration.
The cat brushed against his legs.
She had me locked in the room with her last night. I couldn’t get out to warn you what she was planning. You gotta help her.
Zach picked the cat up. “How long has she been gone?”
Not long.
Zach found his phone and dialed Kellan. The other man answered on the third ring, sounding grumpy and half asleep. Zach explained the situation.
Kellan sounded much more alert when he said, “I’m on it. Any idea where she was going?”
Zach looked at the cat.
She was looking at the glowy square thing a lot, and kept writing stuff down.
Glowy square thing?
An image of Hannah typing on his computer flashed into his mind. The picture was so clear he could even see the screen.
“Oakland Cemetery.” Zach raced toward the room she’d been using, clutching the cat safely to his chest with one hand while the dog chased on his heels. He found his laptop on the bed and opened it. Checking the history, sure enough, she’d been viewing the website for the famous landmark. “That’s definitely where she’s headed.”
Why the hell was she going to a cemetery at this hour?
“Want me to send E.J. after you?” Kellan asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not I can remember how to hotwire a car.”
Chapter Nineteen
The gates of Oakland Cemetery weren’t even open for the day when Hannah cruised up to the main entrance.
After parking at a business near the cemetery, she reached for her phone. No missed calls from Detective Ryan, but at least a dozen each from Zach, Kellan and E.J. She refrained from listening to their messages, knowing they’d fill her mind with doubt that she was doing the right thing.
What the hell was she supposed to do now?
Dialing the detective’s number again, she reached his voice mail—which an automated message now informed her was full. She did a quick Internet search on her phone for the front desk number of the Atlanta Police Department. The lady who answered did not sound like a morning person.
Hannah sucked in a breath. “I’ve been trying to reach Detective Jacob Ryan. Can you please tell me if he’s working today?”
“What zone?”
“Zone 2. Um, he’s with the Criminal Investigation Division.” She’d memorized his business card.
There was a long pause filled with the sound of shuffling papers and a couple of computer clicks. “Detective Ryan had a family emergency. Detective Flannery is handling his cases in the meantime.”
She almost laughed hysterically. Of course he was. Of course.
“Can you please transfer me to Detective Flannery?”
Hannah waited while she was connected to a new person. She rubbed at the bridge of her eyes, trying to alleviate the dull ache forming there. Why the hell did everything always have to be so damn complicated?
A gruff, masculine voice answered, only to inform her she’d reached the desk of Detective Martin Flannery and he was unavailable to take her call. She almost pressed END, frustrated as hell, but reminded herself that Sarah’s life was at stake. She rambled off another frantic message and left her number. Hopefully this detective would check his voicemail soon.
Around eight o’clock, Hannah watched a school bus enter the cemetery and realized the gates had opened. The caller had told her nine o’clock, but if she could find his note now, she might have time to somehow relay its contents to the police.
It took her much longer than expected to figure out how to get to the Bell Tower Ridge and find the right marker. As she followed the walking paths past tombstone after tombstone and crypt after crypt using the visitor’s map she’d snagged at the entrance, Hannah felt a chill creep down her spine. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched, but this section of the graveyard was empty except for a lone lawnkeeper raking leaves.
A business-sized white envelope was propped against a brown package sitting on the ground where a marker proclaimed “Where Hood Watched The Battle of Atlanta.”
She tore open the envelope with surprisingly steady hands and read the small note inside.
Open the package.
Glancing around, she saw no one. She picked up the small cardboard box and lifted the lid. A mobile phone sat beside a key taped to the inside back. No sooner had Hannah lifted the phone from the box than it started vibrating.
It wasn’t nine o’clock yet.
He was watching her. This was it.
“Hello?” she answered, spinning in her spot to scan the area around her.
“Take your phone and toss it into the bushes. Do it now.”
“My phone?”
“Yes, your phone. The one you came here with.”
She grasped her phone out of her bag and threw it into some shrubbery beside a nearby tomb.
“Good girl. There’s a car parked on the next street over. A silver Chevy. Take that key and get in the driver’s seat.”
“Wh-what?”
“You’d better hurry. Your friend is waiting.”
Zach swore as he wove in and out of early morning traffic in the ridiculous car he’d stolen from one of the cabin’s neighbors.
He’d had to walk a couple of miles to find an older model he could lift, and then he’d raced back to the cabin to pick up the animals—Hannah would have never forgiven him if he’d left them there alone. Stealing a car, maybe, but not abandoning her boys. Besides, he’d needed to grill the cat for more information.
“Come on. Come on.” He slammed his fist against the dashboard as he slowed the lime-green colored Volkswagen Beetle to a stop at a red light.
He felt like a freaking giant in the small car, and crowded with the dog standing in the passenger seat with his front paws on the dashboard looking out, thinking We’re going for a ride. Yeah, we are riding fast, too! Oh, we’re stopping. Is the ride over? Zach had left Abbott out of the bag, and about ten miles back, the cat had decided to hop into his lap and stand with his front feet on the steering wheel. The cat hissed. Why did you stop? Go faster! Move this heap!
“Shut the hell up and let me drive,” Zach muttered, shoving the finicky feline aside.
His phone rang and he had to move Costello aside to dig it out from under the dog’s back feet.
“Talk to me,” he told Kellan.
“She’s on the move.”
“Where?”
“On foot. She threw her phone into some bushes and is walking toward the exit.”
“Dammit, I’m almost there. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
What the hell was Hannah doing? The cat had told him she’d gotten a phone call and then left messages for what Zach had
determined was the police. From what the cat had overheard it sounded like Sarah had been taken hostage. That was the only reason Kellan was keeping his distance. They’d assumed the police must be keeping their distance too, trying to trap the suspect without risking Hannah’s best friend in the process.
Costello wiggled backward into his seat and then tried to climb over the gear shift and into Zach’s lap. The car was an older automatic without safety features, and his fat paw knocked it back into a slower gear. The car lurched and sputtered for a second before Zach pushed it back into Drive.
“Stop that.” Zach yelled and pressed the dog away. Costello tilted his head and looked down at the gear shift as if he’d discovered a new friend.
The stick moves. Is that a toy? Is there a treat if I move the stick?
He reached to paw the gear again. Zach flicked a finger against his nose. “No. Bad boy.”
“What the hell are you saying?” Kellan asked.
“Uh, nothing. Not to you.” He shook his head. “Any sign of the cops?”
“No, man. If they’re out here, they’re really keeping things on the down low.”
“Make sure you do the same. If these people have been watching Hannah for a while, they’ll know what you look like.”
“I slipped one of the groundskeepers twenty bucks to borrow his shirt and rake when I came in.” Kellan was starting to sound a little short of breath. How fast was Kellan walking? “You forget I do this for a living.”
“Stay with her. I’m going to try to check in with Detective Ryan again. Call me the second anything happens.”
“Done.”
Zach struggled to find the detective’s number in his phone as he swung the car around a turn, sending Costello and Abbott both sliding toward the door.
“Sorry,” he mumbled and pressed the phone to his ear. He swore when he got the detective’s voicemail.
On the Scent Page 21