Angela Campbell - On the Scent - A laugh out loud pet detective rom com!

Another reminder of what an epic failure Zach was.

“Sue her?” Kellan sounded surprised. His face lost its color. “Are you gonna fire me?”

Zach was tempted, but he needed the asshole on staff too damn much. “I assumed you were quitting to take the job with your girlfriend. What would be the point of firing you?”

Shoving his brother’s folder out of mind, he checked the actress’s contract to make sure it was still valid for a while yet. Luckily, it was. Even if she broke it now, the agency would still get paid for another four months, plus a penalty fee. But then?

They were screwed. They needed to convince Kellan to stick around so she would, too.

Kellan shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. I never thought I’d—” His words fell short as he turned and paced toward the opposite wall. Hands on his hips, he turned and faced the desk again. “I’m sorry, Zach.”

“I think we need to revisit this conversation when Brian can be here, don’t you? Dammit, Kellan.” Zach pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t need this right now. Go do your job, and get out of my sight. We’ll talk about this later.”

Kellan hesitated, as if he wanted to stay and finish it now, but he must have sensed it wasn’t a good time to push his luck. The office door shut behind the tall blond man, and Zach picked up his phone.

Instead of Brian’s deep voice, a familiar feminine one answered his call. “Zachary! Oh, thank goodness. I was trying to find you in his contacts,” Hannah said, and then in a calm voice informed him she was driving to the hospital with his partner passed out cold in the seat beside her. “Can you please check on his wife to make certain she’s taken care of? Her water broke about ten minutes ago, and this guy is in no condition to go get her.”

When Zach reached the hospital, Brian was waiting—in a wheelchair, no less—in a room with his wife, Jenny. Their newest client was nowhere in sight.

“The nurses told me Hannah left after they got me conscious,” Brian muttered. “Damn, I owe that woman. Bigtime.”

Zach tried calling the number for her he’d programmed into his phone earlier. She sent him to voicemail. Shit. This wasn’t their day for retaining customers, was it?

“Maybe you could head over and check on her,” Brian said. “Apologize for me.”

Any other time, and he would have already been on his way. “No way, man. I’ve been looking forward to this. I want to be here when your kid is born. I’ll go see Hannah later.”

“At least see if Kellan can go keep an eye on her place in the meantime. Tell him to be discreet.” Brian rubbed his forehead. “There was someone following her earlier. A black car. Tinted windows. Georgia license plate, but I didn’t make the numbers.”

Zach swore beneath his breath and punched in Kellan’s number. His conversation with their next-in-charge was short and to the point. If Kellan didn’t want to be sued for breach of contract, he’d get to Hannah’s place pronto.

“Park across the street. Keep an eye on her house. I’ll be there later. You see anything suspicious, call me. Got it?”

Three hours later, Brian’s daughter was born, and damn if Zach didn’t feel a swell of pride, looking at the tiny infant for the first time.

An unfamiliar emotion puffed out his chest when he peeked in on the nursery with Brian and saw little Jessica kicking her tiny feet against a pink blanket. He’d never been a kid kind of person, but he had a feeling that little squirt was gonna own his heart.

“Now that I know Jenny’s fine and the baby’s here, I need to get back over to Hannah’s place,” Brian said as they stood there. “I didn’t tell her about the car following her.” Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s not safe, and I owe her. I need to get back over there and—”

“You’re not leaving this hospital.” Zach pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. Kellan was due to bodyguard his actress girlfriend at a charity event tonight. What freelancers did they know? Who was available? “I’ll put someone else on her.”

“Who?” Brian held up his hands. “We’re stretched too damn thin as it is.” His glance strayed back to the crib that cradled his kid. “You should do it.” Before Zach could manage a response, Brian stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Look, man, it’s been six months. It’s time for you to get back in the game.”

“Not a good idea.” Zach leaned in close. “Let’s face it. I’m a better actor than a P.I. We don’t need another screw up like what happened the last time I handled a job.”

Brian scrunched his face in either disgust or disagreement. Maybe both. “You were an actor for fifteen minutes on some stupid reality show hardly anyone remembers. That’s behind you. What’s bringing this up now?”

Fifteen minutes? That barb stung. The Psychic Detective had lasted three seasons before Zach’s conscience had gotten the best of him and he’d quit. The so-called psychic who’d replaced him hadn’t lasted more than a year before viewership had dropped and the show had been cancelled.

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.