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Sexy.
    Trouble.
    â€œAre you going to tell me why you spent the night in my driveway?” She focused on Costello, who’d slowed down and was backing up to do his morning business on her neighbor’s lawn. Hannah snatched a small bag out of her pocket and waited for the dog to finish, and the man to answer.
    Zach scanned the street in front of them with hawk-eye precision. “Someone was following you yesterday. Last night your house was being watched.”
    Worry zinged through her brain until she shook herself free of the useless emotion. Had someone been following her, or had Zach invented it as a convenient excuse to scare her into retaining his services? She opted to believe the second, if only because the alternative was too terrifying.
    She turned to him and forced a smile. “Thank you for staying, but I did make it clear your services aren’t required.”
    â€œI’m not kidding, Hannah.”
    â€œNeither 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.”
    â€œHow 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.”
    â€œLike 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?”
    â€œNo 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.
    â€œWhat 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.
    â€œNo.”
    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.
    â€œGrab 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