On the Scent (22 page)

Zach and the madman seemed to have the same realization at once. Kellan had left his car running, probably so the animals could have air conditioning.

The man took a step back, sideways, moving toward the vehicle.

Shit. They couldn't let him take the animals. If he did, he'd have something to ransom. This would never end.

Zach swallowed and felt the pain in his side intensify. He staggered, almost to his knees, and his vision blurred. Dammit. He was in no shape to take this man down, but he had to try.

I wanna kill the bad man. Grrrrrr. Bad man.
Costello barked again, and Zach heard his thoughts loud and clear, repeating over and over.

The bad man continued stepping back, not taking his eyes off the humans. Zach realized he was almost standing directly behind Kellan's car.

The asshole wanted to shoot but was hesitating. He didn't want to leave without the diamond. Zach sensed it as if the man had spoken the words to him. He was thinking, trying to figure out a way to snatch Hannah, but Zach was in his way.

He's going to shoot me again, get me down, and then threaten Sarah to make Hannah talk. That's his plan.

Zach looked at the dog and urgently willed him to listen to his thoughts.

Costello, good boy. Good boy! Want a treat? Does Costello want a treat?

The dog stopped barking and tilted his head at Zach.

Yes. This worked.

Move the stick, Costello. Find treats under the stick. Remember the stick?
He imagined an image of the gearshift in Kellan's older car—one he knew didn't have the safety features to prevent a child, or pet, from accidentally slipping gears.

Costello turned and looked toward the front seat.
The stick?

Zach nodded, feeling sweat bead on his forehead, and struggled to keep his balance. Man, he wanted to sit down for a few minutes. The sirens grew closer. He felt an arm slide under his from behind and recognized the feel of Hannah's body as she used herself as a crutch to keep him standing. Smart move, but she didn't know it. The guy would hesitate before shooting Zach now, not wanting to hit the only woman who could tell him what he wanted to know.

“The stick, Costello. Press the stick forward,” he whispered. “Lots of treats.”

Treats. Ohmygod, treats!

Zach saw the dog scramble toward the front of the car. If Costello managed to push the gearshift forward—please, let him press it forward into reverse and not backward into a drive gear—they might actually catch this guy.

Suddenly the car jerked and began rolling back, and fast too.

“Ah!” The man's grip released the gun. It fell to the ground as he struggled to keep the vehicle from pressing him under it. After walking backwards, pushing against the trunk, he finally lunged sideways away from the car, but not far enough. The Toyota kept rolling, rolling past Zach and the women, and blocking the man from view. Without the sound of the sickening crunch of bone and ear-piercing scream that followed, they might have wondered if he'd made it free.

“Stop…the car.” Zach gritted his teeth and moved to go do exactly that. His limbs were like jelly. “The animals…”

Right on cue, a police car rolled into the gate, followed by another and another. One of the officers parked in the path of the Toyota. The man got out, drew his gun and then leapt out of the way as the Toyota showed no signs of stopping.

Zach struggled to focus and noticed Costello standing with his front feet on the steering wheel, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Get down, boy. Down. Lay down!

Costello disappeared from view seconds before metal impacted with metal, and Kellan's car screeched to a halt.

A groan nearby was one clue that Kellan had regained consciousness. His muttered “What the hell did you do to my car?” was another.

Hannah helped lower Zach to the ground, her beautiful face swimming above his as she looked at Sarah. “Put your hands here and press.”

Kellan shifted, then groaned. Hannah's head whipped in his direction. “Don't move. Paramedics will be here in a minute.”

“Someone came up from behind. Clobbered me good.” Kellan swore. Unfamiliar voices demanded answers to questions as anonymous officers gathered around.

“Oh my God, Zach, you've lost a lot of blood.” Hannah pressed her fingers against his abdomen. “We need an ambulance.”

Sarah hovered over him too, her hands on top of Hannah's. One of the officers stood above Hannah, talking into his walkie and requesting aid.

Zach opened his mouth to say “I love you,” but no words came out. He reached a hand toward her, but nothing happened.

His lids closed as a sea of darkness engulfed him, body and mind. He'd tell her after he slept. Sleep was good.

“Miss Dawson, can I have a word with you?”

Hannah clasped her fifth cup of coffee a little tighter and nodded, standing when the detective she'd only met a few hours ago gestured in the direction of the door. Both Brian and Sarah sprang to their feet, too, but Hannah shook her head, placing a hand on Sarah's shoulder to keep her down. “Stay and rest. You've been through a lot.”

“But—”

“Stay here in case the doctor comes back while I'm gone. Please? One of you come and get me if he does?”

Brian nodded, and sinking back into the waiting room chair, Sarah gave in easily too, which had to mean she felt like hell. She'd been checked over by the emergency room staff and deemed healthy enough to be released an hour ago, but Hannah knew her friend. Sarah was still shaken up by her experience, and who could blame her?

Hannah was shaken up as well, mainly because Zach had been in surgery longer than she'd expected. Almost three hours after they'd rolled him into an OR, she'd heard nothing. Had something gone wrong? She'd worried the bullet had pierced a kidney, ruptured a major artery, or worse. There had been so much blood, but she refused to let herself dwell on the worst possibilities. She'd find out what was taking so long as soon as she was done with the officer's questions. Harriet, one of the nurses on duty, was an old friend from nursing school.

“We're still piecing some things together, but I wanted you to know we've IDed the guy that took you,” Detective Flannery said. “Name's Tim Polanski. You were right. He served time for armed robbery in the same prison as Roglitz before being released on good behavior. He has a history of stealing cars and robbing businesses going back to his teens, and apparently he was known for using some pretty clever disguises to evade capture. We think he and Roglitz might be responsible for a number of high-profile thefts across the country.”

“Has he confessed to anything?”

“Nah, he's not talking yet. Then again, he's gotta be feeling some hurt with that shattered leg.” He reached into his jacket and grabbed his phone. A mugshot type of picture of a young man was displayed on the screen when he held it out to her. “Do you recognize this person?”

She shook her head.

He sighed. “Guy was driving the exact make and model of Chevy headed Northeast on Peachtree when your security alerted us to be on the lookout for that vehicle. Our men stopped him, thinking he was the suspect, which is why it took us so long to find you.” The detective wiped a hand over his face.

He was right. There was no telling what would have happened to her if Zach hadn't followed her from the bank. She'd love to know how he'd found her to begin with, but so far she'd only heard bits and pieces of it from Kellan before he'd been admitted to the hospital for observation.

“Do you think he's Polanski's accomplice—the one who knocked out Kellan at the warehouse?”

“Nah, I think he's some poor kid who got caught in the middle of this. I wouldn't worry too much. The diamond is in our possession, and Polanski strikes me as the ringleader of this operation. You should be a hell of lot safer now, Miss Dawson. Keep alert and maintain your private security, and you'll be fine.”

She relaxed a little at that reassurance.

The detective started to walk away, but hesitated. “There's a matter of a stolen car. Volkswagen Beetle. It's out of my jurisdiction, but I'll talk to the owner, try to explain things, see if we can't get those charges dropped. No promises, but I'll try. Let him know I'll be in touch, will ya?”

“Thank you.”

Tossing her empty cup into the trash, Hannah was hurrying to the nurse's station when she spotted Harriet walking in the opposite direction to the waiting room. She reached her old friend as Harriet called for Zach's family. Brian stepped forward eagerly, sliding his hand along Hannah's back.

“That's us.”

“Me, too,” Sarah said, squeezing between them.

They were led to a private room, and Hannah felt her stomach sink, remembering the handful of times she'd showed a family to a similar room knowing they would hear devastating news. She searched Harriet's face for reassurance but found nothing that gave away the outcome. Harriet excused herself quickly, but not before giving Hannah's arm a quick squeeze in passing.

The doctor came in, rubbing the back of his neck, his shirtfront stained with blood. Zach's blood.

“He's out of surgery and stable. The bullet passed through the muscles of the abdomen but didn't enter the abdominal cavity. He lost a helluva lot of blood, but we got the bullet out and I think he's going to be fine. Best case scenario, he'll be up and around again in a matter of weeks.”

Brian asked several questions, but Hannah remained quiet, absorbing all that had happened over the last twenty-four hours. Zach was going to be all right. In the end, that was all that mattered.

“Can I see him?” she asked when Brian seemed satisfied with the doctor's answers. She touched Brian's arm, adding, “I mean, if that's okay with you.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “I'm sure he would rather see your face than mine when he wakes up.”

She hoped so.

Zach was in recovery when she slipped her hand in his and began taking inventory. She couldn't help it. She needed to know his pulse was normal and his breathing steady.

“I must have died and gone to heaven to have an angel as beautiful as you come greet me.” His voice was raspy, but his mouth was curved in a smile. “Are you okay?”

He was awfully alert for someone who'd spent almost three hours under the knife.

Nodding, she gently touched his face. A line of stubble scraped her fingers. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

“Not bad for a guy who just took his first bullet.”

He sounded proud, and she frowned down at him. “Don't make jokes, Zach. This is serious.”

He settled his other hand on top of hers. His smile vanished. “How are the boys? Are they okay?”

She was happy he seemed to care for her pets as much as she did—or, well, at least he was getting there. “E.J. took them to the vet for me to be checked out. They're fine. I'll pick them up later.”

“Good. I was worried.”

She was grateful to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. “Zach, I heard what you told Costello to do…and he did it. How—?”

“Long story. I'll tell it to you sometime.”

A nurse Hannah didn't recognize gave Zach some medicine through the IV and asked him how his pain level was. Adjusting his covers, she told Hannah, “We're getting ready to move him. We'll need you to head back to the waiting room now.”

“Wait,” Zach interjected, clasping Hannah's hand. His grip was weak, but still strong enough to make a point. “Give us a few more minutes. Please?”

The nurse rolled her eyes. “Alright. Three more minutes, then you'll have plenty of time to visit later.” She scurried off to tend to another patient.

Zach wasted no time. “Hannah, I love you. I know things are screwed up right now, but please, give me a chance to prove it to you when I get out of here.”

“Oh, Zach.” Hot tears swelled behind her eyelids. “You already have.” She leaned down and kissed him, gently. “I love you, too.”

“Really?”

She nodded and kissed him again. “I'd better go.” She sniffed. “The nurse is right. We'll have plenty of time to talk later. Right now, you need to rest.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. “Did the police catch him?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. He's somewhere in the hospital under police guard.”

“His accomplice?”

She didn't want him to worry. “The police are tracking down some hot leads now.” She moved his hand to his side and pried her fingers away, reluctantly. “Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, Zach.”

His eyes looked more bleary than they had a few minutes ago. The meds were kicking in, pulling him under. “Get someone to go home with you. Get some rest. I'm the one who's not going anywhere.” His throat moved beneath a big swallow. “Take the boys home and give them lots of treats. Those critters sure as hell deserve it.”

“Zach—”

“Promise me.” He gestured to her chest even as his eyelids drooped. “Freaks me out seeing you with blood all over you. Go home and change. I'll be…fine.”

And he was out.

Hannah pressed another kiss to his forehead and stepped away, eager to find Brian and put him at ease. Odds were Zach was going to be fine. The heaviness that had been weighing down her heart lifted. He loved her. Everything was going to be okay.

“You should go home and rest for a while,” Brian encouraged, and Hannah gave in. She was worried about Abbott and Costello. She wanted to get them home and love on them a bit.

When Brian offered to take her, she stopped him. She could see how badly Brian wanted to stay and see his friend. She wouldn't interfere with that.

“I should be fine. Maybe you can ask E.J. to drive by every now and then if it makes you feel better, but I really want to be alone for a while with my cat and dog.”

Not fifteen minutes later, E.J. arrived to drive her and Sarah to their respective homes. He chattered a mile a minute, asking questions, thrilled that Hannah had used his lessons in pickpocketing to gain an upper-hand in the situation, but frustrated because he'd missed most of the action. Hannah was grateful, though. His enthusiasm brought Sarah out of her shell and had both women laughing by the time Sarah got out of the car.

When they arrived at Hannah's doorstep so she could change clothes, E.J. followed her inside and did a quick inspection of the house. “All clear. You sure you don't want me to hang out on the couch?”

She shook her head. “I love you, E.J., but I will love you even more if you can find a way to get Zach's car. I left it at the cemetery.”

“You want me to do that before or after we go get the animals?”

She considered the question. She looked like a hot mess. “Before. It'll give me a chance to take a quick shower and rest for a few minutes.”

“No problem.” He took another glance around. “I'll get my cousin to drop me off at the cemetery. I'll try to hurry. Lock up behind me.”

After doing that, Hannah stripped and headed for the shower, moaning when the hot water washed away the sweat and blood and grime from the past day. She lingered until her fingers began to turn to prunes, slid into a t-shirt and yoga pants and headed to the kitchen for a snack. It felt strange and lonely in the house without the animals or Zach or his friends. The quiet was almost unsettling. She realized it had been a long time since she'd been this alone. She turned the TV on for company.

A glance at the time on the screen surprised her. It was almost four. She quickly called the vet's office and assured them she'd try to be there by closing.

She couldn't wait to cuddle with her brave little boys.

A knock at the door startled her. She hesitated then shook her head. Sooner or later, she'd have to get back to normal and stop being so paranoid. Sighing, she looked through the peephole and recognized her neighbor—what was her name? Carolyn?

Hannah kept the door on the chain but cracked it open. “I'm sorry. I'm getting out of the shower. Did you need something?”

The woman lifted a casserole dish. Through the opening, Hannah caught a scent of something mouth-watering and enticing. She almost drooled she was so hungry.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Hannah. I wanted to bring this over. I made it especially for you.”

Should she?

Peeking at the middle-aged woman who looked like she belonged on one of those real housewives shows, Hannah couldn't imagine any harm coming from this lady. Besides, it would help pass the time until E.J. returned.

Unchaining the door, she gestured Carolyn inside. “Like I said, I just got out of the shower. I'm sorry for the way I'm dress—” She lifted her eyes and saw the gun pointed at her. Again.

“Lock the door, please.”

Hannah turned and slid both locks into place. Her hands trembled as she touched the chain, but she willed them to steady.

She was going to kick this woman's ass as soon as she could figure out the safest way to do it.

She took a deep breath and turned around, calm. The casserole dish had been placed on the table, too far out of reach to grab and throw as a potential weapon. “What do you want? The diamond? I don't have it. The police do. Sorry.”

Carolyn looked her up and down, a twinkling of disgust in her gaze. “I want the other ones.”

“Other ones, what?”

“Don't play dumb. Ellie had to leave them to you. They weren't in the vault. If they were, I would have heard you talk about them, too.” She backed up to the island separating the kitchen and living room and reached a hand under the edge. Lifting it, she held a small round thing in between her fingers.

Was that a listening bug?

Hannah mentally slapped her forehead in a D'oh moment. Carolyn, if that was really her name, must have put it there the day she'd played the nosy neighbor.

“Peter told me about them. He knew that asshole Polanski would try to doublecross us with such a big payday on the line, so he told only me about it.” She lifted the gun higher. Her hand was a little shaky. “Just tell me where they are, and you'll never see me again. That's all I want.”

Hannah held her hands up. “If I knew what you were talking about, I'd give it to you. Believe me, I want nothing to do with that part of Ellie's life.”
Them. Tell me where they are
. Who was
they
? Hannah struggled to comprehend the strange request. She was tired. Mind-numbing, bone-heavy tired. She wanted this over, and she would have gladly cooperated if she understood. “Do you want money? Is that it?”

“You know damn well what I want.” The older woman's eyes bulged as she screamed the declaration. Lifting her free hand to cover her mouth, Carolyn's entire body seemed to be trembling now. The woman was obviously out of her element. Lowering her hand, in a much softer voice, she pleaded, “Please tell me where they are.”