On the Scent (18 page)

“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.”

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.”

Hannah's eyes darted around the room. She saw nothing and heard no one. Alexandra sat back and patted the cushion beside her. Not bothering to glance at Zach, Hannah accepted the invitation, relieved when the cat decided to jump into her lap, too. Abbott's presence eased her nerves as she caressed his silky fur and she waited for—well, she had no idea. The other woman bit her lip and closed her eyes. Every so often, Alexandra would give a little shake of her head and murmur something unintelligible, as if she were confused and speaking gibberish.

“She wants me to thank you.” Alexandra's warm hand settled on Hannah's knee, but she didn't open her eyes. “She says you took care of her. She thought of you as the daughter she never had but always wanted. She's saying she's sorry over and over again. I feel so much remorse from her for some reason. It's so strong it's almost choking me.”

Oh, Ellie.
Hannah fought the tears that burned her eyes.

Alexandra whispered more gibberish. “Okay, she's showing me something. I think it's a bag, but there's something in the bag. It's like a rock, but it's not? I don't know what she's showing me. Hmmm.”

“It's probably a—” Hannah began to say
.
But Alexandra's fingernails dug into her skin, and the other woman murmured, “I don't want to know details. Please, just listen now.” Her fingers loosened their grip.

The sofa cushion sank to Hannah's left as Zach lowered himself to the small space on the other side of her, settling his hand on her back as he leaned forward to listen.

Alexandra waved a hand in front of her chest. “She's talking so fast. It's like she feels a sense of urgency about something—like she's worried about something.”

“Can we ask her specific questions?” Zach asked.

Alexandra gave a quick shake of her head and squeezed her eyes even tighter. “She's showing me a picture of a man. He's not the one—that's what she's saying now. I think she's trying to tell me he's innocent of something.”

“What does the man look like?” Hannah asked softly.

“Glasses. Short hair. Well-dressed.”

Hannah searched for Zach's eyes. Was Alexandra describing Roglitz? It was a close enough description of the picture they'd seen of him in Ellie's things.

“Ask her who's responsible for what's been happening,” Zach demanded in a quiet, but firm voice.

Alexandra's lips thinned. Her eyes opened and she looked toward the ceiling. “A younger man. Someone she doesn't know.” Alexandra moved to her feet and began pacing. “She's getting kind of pushy now. She keeps getting in my face. I don't like it.” She rubbed her palms against the front of her thighs and turned suddenly in the opposite direction. “I think she was used to always getting her way. Did she have a lot of money? I'm getting the impression she did.”

“Yes, she did.” Hannah sat forward and brought her thumb to her lips. Her nail felt thick as her teeth nibbled it. Damn. She hadn't bitten her nails in years. She jerked her hand away, slid it between her thighs, and sighed.

What was this accomplishing, anyway?

“More than one person, she's saying. She wants Hannah to be careful.” Alexandra stopped moving and speared Hannah with a dark look. “You know one of them.”

“What?” Hannah barely managed to form the question.

Alexandra aimed a quick look toward the man at her side. “Your mom is here too, Zach.”

The sofa squeaked as he shifted away from Hannah. She risked a glance at his face—which had suddenly paled.

“Right now, we need to communicate with Ellie.” His knuckles popped as he tightened his fingers into a fist. “Who does Hannah know? Ask her for a name.”

“I'll try, but your mother wants to talk to you. She's pushing Ellie away.” Alexandra waved a hand in front of her face. “The younger man—he has lots of faces, she's saying. He's dangerous. Very dangerous. He killed Rollins, she says. No, not Rollins. Ral—” She shook her head. “Something with an R. A name. She knew him.”

Alexandra's comments were starting to make no sense to Hannah. She looked at Zach to gauge his comprehension.

“Roglitz,” he murmured, and Alexandra stopped pacing and nodded.

“Yes. She's saying yes. Roglitz is the man he killed. He's dangerous.” Alexandra closed her eyes and squeezed them as if in pain. “Zach, your brother needs you. Your mother is asking you to please go to him.”

Zach sprang to his feet. “Tell her to leave me the hell alone.” He grabbed Alexandra by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Focus on Ellie, dammit.”

Alexandra gasped and shoved him away. “Back off, Collins.” She shook her head, looking dazed. “I think we're done here.”

“Like hell we are.” He reached for her again, and Hannah moved to her feet, in case she needed to put herself between them. “Zach!”

He stilled, but his chest rose and fell with harsh breaths. So did Alexandra's.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to—”

Alexandra stuck a hand in the air. “Save it. It's okay. I want to get out of here. I feel stifled. It's too much.”

Hannah placed a hand on the other woman's arm and tried not to take offense when she flinched. “I'm really sorry. Thank you. If you wait one minute, I'll go get some money to pay you.”

Alexandra murmured an amount then nodded and stepped back, hugging herself with her arms. Hannah narrowed her eyes in warning at Zach, silently telling him to back off the other woman, and hurried to find her purse in the other room.

Zach's head felt tight with the pressure of too much anger.
Calm down.
Compose yourself. You're scaring Hannah—and yourself.

He took a deep breath, anchoring his hands on his hips so he didn't punch something the way he wanted to.

Even in death, it seemed, his mother riled him to emotion like no other.

“Zach, your brother needs you. Your mother is asking you to please go to him.”

Was Dylan in some kind of danger, or was their mother only trying to reconcile them from the grave? Hell if he knew, but he couldn't think about it. He
wouldn't
think about it. Hannah was his priority right now, and until she was out of danger, Dylan would have to wait.

“Why are you so angry at her?”

Alexandra's whispered question took him by surprise.

“She really loves you, Zach. I can feel it. Whatever she did to you, you need to let it go. For your sake—and hers.” With a snort, she added, “And mine, apparently.”

“I know.” He crossed his arms and glanced to see what was keeping Hannah. She was still upstairs. Turning back, he shook his head. “I'm not angry at her. I'm pissed at myself. I'm sorry.”

Alexandra's eyebrows shot up. “Yourself? Why?”

Again, he shook his head, not wanting to rehash his feelings with a woman he barely knew. It had been hard enough sharing even part of it with the woman he loved. He was done for the night.

She visibly relaxed. “Does it have anything to do with the whole psychic thing?”

“What?”

“I imagine it's messing with your brain, and your emotions.” She shrugged. “You're a guy who's only been pretending to be psychic for, like, forever and now—”

“
What
?”

Alexandra's eyes went wide as she looked behind him.
Hannah.
Shit.

Zach squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he didn't understand what she'd overheard and assumed, but knowing his time had come to pay a long overdue bill to the karma department.

Opening his eyes, he met Alexandra's apologetic gaze and whispered, “It's okay.” He turned and saw Hannah standing there, looking like she already had one foot out the door of their fragile relationship. Her eyes flashed with confusion, hurt and anger, but mostly hurt.

“You're not really psychic? You've been
lying
to me about that?” She moved her focus to Alexandra. “Are either of you? Have you been playing me?”

“No, Hannah.” He moved toward her, but she jerked up a hand to ward him off. “You misunderstood.”

She took a step back, away from him. “So you
are
psychic?” Her tone was skeptical.

Damn, this was so frustrating. How did he explain any of this? “Yes, but I wasn't —” He stopped himself, not certain what to say. Instead, he gestured to Alexandra. “She is the real deal. I promise.”

Hannah darted a glance between the two of them, shaking her head. “There's nothing she said that you couldn't have told her beforehand.” She touched her forehead. “I'm such an idiot. You followed me three years ago. You had lots of information to use to convince me you were psychic.” She flapped the dollars in her other hand. “Is this why? Because of the money? What—you're a couple of con artists working together or something? Are you—” She swallowed. “Are you lovers too?”

“No!” His voice and Alexandra's answered in unison, and he wasn't sure which of them sounded more outraged by that idea.

The mobile phone on the table beside her began belting out a ringtone. She barely spared it a glance, but it was enough to give him an opening. Zach swore and moved fast, grabbing Hannah before she could get farther away from him. His hands cradled her precious face, forcing her to look at him. “I love you, Hannah. No matter what you believe, that is the truth.”

He couldn't stand the overwhelming hurt he saw in her eyes. She didn't move away. “Then explain to me what she meant.” She seemed to relax some. “Please.”