She turned to him and forced a smile. “Thank you for staying, but I did make it clear your services aren’t required.”
“I’m not kidding, Hannah.”
“Neither am I.”
His fingers gripped her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. “You could be in real danger. Let me help you.”
“How do you know my house was being watched?” Costello hauled on the leash, demanding to be walked, so she gave in and hoped Zach would follow. “Did you actually see someone? What did they look like?”
He ran a hand through his hair as he casually matched her pace. His jaw clenched. “I didn’t see anyone. I felt it.”
“Like a psychic thing?”
He shook his head. “Call it a gut reaction. I’ve been doing this a long time. Trust me, I know when my instincts are dead on, and I know when I’m being watched.”
Hannah had no idea how his psychic abilities worked—or if he was even psychic, for that matter—but she could hear the sincerity in his voice.
His fingers gripped her upper arm tight again, bringing her to another stop. His wide-eyed expression was serious—and a little alarming. “Who’s watching the cat?”
“No one,” she admitted. “I—” She stopped her words when Zach yanked the lanyard from her hand and sprinted back the way they came. Costello bounded after him, jerking her arm almost out of its socket and nearly dragging her to the ground. “Wait a minute!”
Then she remembered Zach’s question, and she ran like hell to catch up to him, too.
His gut churned in a familiar way that told Zach something bad was about to happen. He might not be psychic, but he hadn’t been lying when he told Hannah his instincts rarely led him wrong.
A few minutes ago, the thought to trigger that gut churning had been, the damn cat is a sitting duck right now.
He didn’t see anything suspicious as he hurried up the steps to Hannah’s house, but he still opened the front door carefully.
The house was eerily quiet. He scanned the room and saw nothing unusual—not even the cat. He took a step inside, and that’s when it hit him. The pungent smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, as if someone who smoked often had been in the room.
“What on earth?” Hannah said, coming up behind him fast.
The dog’s paws shoved against the back of his knees, and Zach almost fell face-first into the carpet. He stumbled forward and caught himself against the wall as Costello raced around him and bounced into the room.
He was gonna kill that damn dog.
He held out an arm to prevent Hannah from moving further inside and asked in a whisper, “Do you smoke?” But he already knew the answer.
“No.”
The look of distaste on her face turned to something else as her nostrils flared and caught the same scent his had. She paled, and her fingers gripped the leather jacket covering his arm.
“Grab your cell phone and call the police. Go to a neighbor’s house and wait on their porch.” He pulled away from her and inched forward, wishing like hell he was carrying his gun or some other weapon. A single vase sat on the bookshelf, so he grabbed it, glad to feel that it was heavy and could do some damage if needed. His attention caught on Costello, who sniffed the air and headed down the hall toward what Zach assumed were the bedrooms. He kept a good pace behind the dog, just in case.
The mutt growled and dashed into the open doorway of one of the rooms. Zach waited for an intruder to run out, but then the dog’s whimper ripped the silence.
“Dammit.” He moved to charge forward and—
Someone rushed him from the side. Zach had enough time to see the bat swinging toward him before it felt like his brain exploded inside his skull. His teeth rattled as he hit the floor. The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue as everything threatened to fade to black.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
The strange sound brought him back toward consciousness. Zach swallowed, tasted his own blood and nearly gagged. He blinked and saw a furry black and white cat standing too close to his face, licking its paw over and over again. He jerked sideways in surprise, making stars swim in his vision and a groan escape his mouth.
What the hell is his problem? It’s not like I did this to him.
The thought—more like a strong feeling than words—seemed oddly foreign to Zach. He felt pressure on his leg and looked down to see the damn dog going to town with a fury.
Gotta help him. Gotta help him. Gotta show him who’s boss. Gotta help him.
Again with the strange thought-feeling. Zach groaned and dropped his head back down, jarred his teeth.
He heard more licking and turned his head to see the cat’s tongue still taking long swipes at its paw.
Dirty paw.
Hungry.
When’s dinner?
Was the cat actually talking or—?
“Gnn-mmmm,” Zach groaned.
A second later, black engulfed him.
He should have come out by now.
Hannah shifted her weight from foot to foot as she debated going inside. She’d done as Zachary asked and called the police and was still holding on the line with the dispatcher, who annoyingly kept asking her for updates she couldn’t give. She couldn’t see or hear anything from where she stood on her absent neighbor’s front porch.
“It will just be a few more minutes,” the woman on the other end kept saying.
It had already been seven minutes.
“Screw this,” she told the dispatcher. “I’m going inside.”
“I wouldn’t advise that, Miss Dawson. Stay—” The voice ended when Hannah moved forward and a double beep informed her she’d lost the call. Well, crap. She shoved the phone in her pocket and hurried across her lawn.
The smell of cigarette smoke wasn’t as strong as it had been when she’d stepped inside earlier. She listened, heard absolutely nothing aside from the tick-tock of the clock above the mantle, and slowly moved forward.
She tried to remember where she’d put the baseball bat she’d been keeping close for comfort’s sake. Bedroom. Damn. What else could she use for a weapon? Another vase? They were in a box somewhere. She really needed to unpack soon.
“Mreow.”
The cat’s call echoed through the living room seconds before Abbot’s black and white body sauntered into view. He sat down, looked at her and meowed again. Then he rolled onto his side and gave her a sleepy-eyed look.
“Zach?” Her voice sounded loud, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the silence or because she’d spoken higher than she’d planned.
Hannah hurried toward the cat, scooped him up and stared down the empty hallway.
“Costello?” She whispered loudly.
The dog’s head peeked out of a doorway. His beady eyes met hers, he barked and then he disappeared with a bunny-hop motion back into the room.
The curtains swayed in a breeze when she entered the area she had planned for an office. Her gaze landed on Zach’s motionless body in the floor. Costello was busy humping one of the private detective’s legs.
“Costello. No!”
Zach’s chest barely rose