On the Scent: A laugh out loud pet detective rom com!

People had liked him, dammit.

Zach opened his mouth to argue that perhaps if they’d taken advantage of that fact a little more, the firm wouldn’t be in such a mess now, but he censored himself. The only time he and Brian had ever come to blows had been over Zach’s television con. Brian had beat the shit out of Zach when he’d finished his tour of duty, returned to the states, and discovered Zach had been pretending to be psychic by using his eerie ability to pick up on the details others missed. Never mind his reasons for doing it. Brian hadn’t cared.

Zach clenched his jaw and said nothing. Just looked at his best friend.

Brian lifted his chin and softened his tone. “Come on, man. You do have the background. You’d either be a Marine or a cop if it weren’t for your arm.” He flicked his fingers against Zach’s left elbow. Zach instinctively massaged his forearm, remembering his basic training exercise gone bad. He’d been lucky some nerve damage was the only injury he’d gotten from the overturned vehicle. He kept it in check with medicine and exercise.

“Yeah, but I’m not a Marine, and I’m not a cop.” Thanks for rubbing it in, asshole. His injury had prevented him from qualifying for either title.

“But you never gave up trying.” Brian held up his hands, in full-on pep-talk mode now. “When I was stationed in Afghanistan, you were working your ass off at one of the best P.I. firms in Los Angeles. You were so good, a client recommended you to that TV producer. Hell, you’ve been a P.I. longer than me. So what if something bad happened on one case? It was just one case.” When Zach stepped to move away, Brian grabbed his good arm and stilled him. He kept his voice low, but firm. “Point is, we need to help that woman, and you’re more than capable. I need you to help that woman. Do it for me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Zach pulled his arm free. Brian hadn’t been the one Ellie Parham had hired years ago to do the background check on the young woman she’d employed as a nurse. He had no idea the things Zach had done to meddle in Hannah’s life after that. Zach would like to keep it that way.

Everything inside him was screaming for him to walk away. He couldn’t say no to the only friend who’d stood by him.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Zach cast one last glance toward the newborn in the nursery. “Just remember that I said this was a bad idea.”

Twenty minutes later, Zach took a deep breath as he parked his SUV in front of the white-sided traditional home on the edge of one of Atlanta’s nicer communities. He rarely came to Buckhead—too rich for his wallet—but he knew a woman who’d inherited ten million dollars could’ve picked a larger, newer, nicer house than this one-story ranch. He scanned the area, spotted an older woman walking her poodle along the sidewalk, watching him, and forced himself to get out of the car.

Brian was right. They needed to help Hannah Dawson. Maybe it was even meant for Zach to do penance by handling this case. Heaven help them both, but maybe it was.

He waved Kellan off and moved to press the doorbell. Sighing, he redirected his hand to push the hair away from his face instead.

This was gonna be awkward.

The echo of a dog’s barking grew louder until he knew that chubby little mutt was right on the other side of the door. Zach blew out a breath and pressed the doorbell.

He heard movement on the other side followed by a quiet, “Hush, Costello.” The chain rattled as the door opened against it, and he barely recognized the woman who peeked out at him. He saw enough to know she was now dressed in a pair of sweatpants, baggy shirt and bare feet. Her hair was yanked back in a ponytail, making her look years younger, too.

He felt his breath catch in his chest. He’d always enjoyed seeing her like this.

“Mr. Collins. Can I help you?”

The dog’s long snout poked out from the bottom of the cracked door as if it thought it could squeeze its entire body through the tiny space.

Zach squared his shoulders and forced a smile. “Miss Dawson. May I come in?”

She sighed, but nodded. “Just give me a second.” The door shut and the chain protested again as she unlatched it. The entrance cracked open. “Come in, and hurry.”

She was bent over, holding the dog’s collar as he stepped through the door. Zach made sure the cat was still inside—there it was, perched on the back of the sofa—and shut the door.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

The dog strained against her hold, and when she released him, he ran to Zach and jumped against his leg in greeting.

Hannah clapped and pointed at the ground. “Down, Costello.” Her shoulders sank some. “I’m sorry. Ellie never had him trained. He’s horribly disobedient.” Seeing the dog sit, she walked toward the open kitchen, separated from the living room only by a large island. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Zach squinted down at the dog sitting on his left foot and looking up at him with a smelly, open-mouthed, tongue-hanging-to-the-side smile. “No thanks. I wanted to come by and apologize.” He looked up to see her tugging a cookie sheet from the oven. The aroma of melted chocolate chips triggered his mouth to start watering. “And also to thank you for what you did today.”

“How’s Brian?”

“Holding up. His wife delivered a little girl. Seven pounds, eight ounces.”

“No problems?”

“None.”

“That’s wonderful. What did they name her?”

“Jessica Marie.”

“Pretty name.” She checked the cookies to make sure they were done, and then she turned toward him and leaned against the counter. “I’m glad it ended well.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Brian reacted that way. I assure you he has never fainted before, especially while on the job. We’d like to offer you a discount on our services for a month. Half off. It’s the least we can do.”

She looked away and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. She was hesitating. Why was she hesitating?

“Mr. Collins—”

“Call me Zach.”

That seemed to give her more reason to pause. “I’m not certain your firm is the right one for me. Truthfully, I’ve decided I probably overreacted in coming to you.”

“But you signed a contract.”

“Yes, beginning with a trial day.” She straightened. Her eyebrows pulled together, but her tone was polite when she told him, “I’m sure Brian would prefer to spend this time with his family anyway. Perhaps, in the future—”

“Someone was following you today.”

“W-what?”

Ah, that had caught her attention. “Brian spotted the tail when you left our office.” He gave her the vehicle description. “Have you noticed that car before?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “You know, maybe Brian was mistaken.” But the expression on her face told him she was worried.

Why the hell was she being so stubborn? He blew a soft breath through his nose and said, “If it matters, I was also planning to take over your case personally.”

“You were?”

Oh, it mattered, alright. He could tell by the way her eyes had sparked with interest. Why? Because she thinks you’re psychic, dumbass.

Dammit. He did not want to lie to this woman, but what choice had she given him? They needed this paycheck, but more than that, his gut twisted at the idea of her being alone with only God-knows-who targeting her. He liked this woman. Always had. Hell, he owed her.

If he was careful with his wording, maybe that would excuse him from bending his ethics this one time. It was worth a shot. She might hate him when she discovered he’d twisted the truth, but at least she would be safe.

“I’d like to take over your case.” He felt a heavy weight crush against his foot and realized the dog had decided to lie down against him. He gestured to the animal, swallowed, and prayed Brian wouldn’t find out about this part. “And I will try my best to communicate with your cat and dog.”

She crossed her arms and leaned her head a tad to the right while she considered it.