Page 82 of Cruel Dreams

“I’ll talk to security. She might be in the building somewhere, walking the hallways like she and Max would do at the hotel. If she went down to the lobby, someone saw her leave, and they can at least tell me which direction she went.”

Zane pulls me to my feet and gives me a kiss. He steps into the elevator, and after he’s gone, I go upstairs to the bedrooms. Zarah’s suite is the same as it was when I first met her, and a photo album lays open on the bed. Ingrid followed me, and she sits next to me as I flip through the pictures. “Did you make this for her?”

“Yes. With Dr. Reagan’s permission,” she says, a little defensively. “He thought it would be nice if she could look at familiar faces while everyone’s busy.”

Maybe her doctor doesn’t know Max is dead, or maybe Zane didn’t explain what exactly we were doing camped out at the Crowne that would give us a reason to be together. The album is full of pictures of us sitting around Max’s conference table,eating meals, planning. There are selfies of Zarah and Quinn, Zarah and me. Even some of her and Nathalie, and I feel terrible because I don’t know if anyone explained to Zarah what happened to her, or if she overheard us talking about Nathalie’s betrayal and Ash killing her.

There are several of her with Max’s cat laying on her lap, and I wish I would have had the forethought to ask Denton if Zarah could keep it instead of him.What is Denton going to do with a cat, anyway?I think, irritated. He shouldn’t have been allowed to keep it in the first place. Max’s brother contacted Zane through Max’s attorney and said he would go to the Crowne one of these days to pick up his things. Zane isn’t the only one who dropped the ball when it came to Zarah’s care. We all did.

I sigh and keep flipping the pages. No wonder she ran away. It breaks my heart to look at these photos. “It’s okay. No one is blaming you. Zarah enjoyed having everyone around, and since Zane moved her back to the penthouse, I can see why she’d be lonely.”

The late hour weighs on me, and I hate imagining Zarah out in it. I tried to reassure Zane, but honestly, I don’t know where Zarah’s mind is at, and she could have gone anywhere, done anything.

I go back downstairs just as Zane comes up in the lift. “Security saw her go. Let her walk right out the front doors,” he says, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Douglas pours a glass of something at the bar. He offers Zane the drink, but he waves it off.

Ingrid sits on the staircase, and Lucille starts sniffling again.

“She’s their boss,” I say, defending the security guards stationed in the lobby. “They aren’t going to stop her from leaving her own building.”

Zane glares at me, but I lift my chin. Sometimes he forgets how powerful he is, how much authority his name and money give him. It will always be my job to keep him in balance.

His shoulders slump. “You’re right, you’re right. They saw her leave in a white SUV. That’s all they could tell me.”

Something Ingrid says sticks in my mind. Something about the photos and how much she misses everyone.

“Do you think she went back to the hotel?” As soon as I say it, I’m almost certain that’s where she went. She’s looking for the peace and joy she felt while everyone was together. She’s hoping to find it at the hotel, only I know it won’t work. She’ll feel more alone than ever being in a familiar place without anyone there.

“Good idea. She loved the rooftop pool. Let’s go.”

Douglas and Ingrid head toward the elevator, but Zane stops them. “You should stay in case she comes back. Lucille? Can you put on some decaf? If she’s at the Crowne, we’ll bring her home as soon as we can.”

She stands shakily to her feet and wipes her cheeks. “Of course.”

Zane holds my hand, and we reach the underground parking garage within seconds. He chooses the SUV he drove to my apartment, and we’re on the street in front of his building before I can click my seatbelt in place.

“What made you think of it?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. The early-to-work executives are starting to crowd the street, and Zane can’t ease through the intersections as quickly as he did on our way to the penthouse.

“Ingrid put together a photo album of us hanging around Max’s suite. Zarah’s doctor gave her the okay, but I was sad looking at them. I had no idea how much...fun...Zarah had while we were together.” I choke on the word because holy hell, those few weeks while we worked to take down Ash and Clayton were anything but fun.

“Maybe not fun, sweetheart,” he says, “but after her time at Quiet Meadows, having people around gave her comfort and she felt loved for the first time in years. Just like you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

There’s no reason to hide anymore, and Zane parks under the canopy in front of the hotel. We hurry through the glass doors, and the night manager pokes her head out of the office but she sees who it is and ducks back inside.

“Did you see my sister walk through the lobby?” he calls out, and the brunette peers from the office behind the registration desk again.

“No, sir. It’s been quiet all night.”

I deflate. Maybe I’m wrong and Zarah’s not here.

“Thank you.” He turns to me and says, “She used the staff doors, like we’ve been doing.”

A surge of hope shoots through me again.

The elevator ride to the top floor is excruciatingly slow, and Zane practically drags me up the stairs to the rooftop.

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