Page 78 of Shattered Dreams

A woman wearing a navy blue suit runs across the expansive lobby to meet him, her heels clicking desperately against the floor.

“You’ll need a thicker skin than that,” he mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“I can feel the animosity from here. Control it or choke on it. Your choice. Diane,” he greets the woman who skids to a stop breathlessly in front of him, her skin flushed. “You know where he is?”

“He just sat down in the dining room. Ordered coffee. Please, Mr. Maddox, I know I owe you a favor, but—”

“We aren’t here to cause a scene. We just want to talk, that’s all.”

Diane heaves a sigh. “I haven’t had enough coffee for this. It’s not yet eight in the morning.”

“We lead exciting lives, darling,” he says, winking.

Zane must know the hotel, and he sets off.

“She’s old enough to be your mother.”

“She and my mother were friends, a long time ago.”

The dining room looks over a snowy garden, and the weak light glimmers through gauzy curtains.

Patrons peer at us over their coffee, croissants, and newspapers, pausing their conversations to wonder what Zane Maddox is doing here.

Zane zeros in on our former governor, Alan Guthrie, sitting alone at a table near the window. He’s sipping coffee, gazing into the white. He looks a bit sad, a little lost, and I don’t want to assume anything, but he doesn’t look like a killer.

He catches Zane crossing the dining room and sighs. “A little early, isn’t it?” he asks tiredly, slouching in his chair.

Zane and I slide into seats at his table, and reluctantly, Guthrie gestures, asking the waitress to serve more coffee.

“This won’t take up much of your time. We just have a couple of questions,” Zane says, and he nods at the waitress as she fills his cup. She fills mine too, but she doesn’t linger and I can’t thank her. “We went to see Ashton Black.”

Guthrie scoffs. “How does that concern me?”

“My sister is missing, and we’re trying to find her. Do you know Jerricka Solis?”

He frowns. “I don’t believe I do. Perhaps her name sounds familiar, but I haven’t met her personally if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How long have you been in King’s Crossing?”

“A couple of days. It’s fortuitous you’re here. I wanted to thank you for coming through for Nora. That’s why I’m in the city. I’m putting my affairs in order and I’m moving up to Maine to be close to her. I’d like to be able to visit, even if it is just once a week.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“You probably saved her life, and I’m in your debt. It’s the only reason I didn’t call security when I saw you come in. I didn’t have anything to do with Zarah’s disappearance, and I’m sorry the Blacks are still giving you trouble.”

“Why do you think this concerns the Blacks?”

“Because you said you spoke to Ashton Black. I don’t know what he told you that led you to me, but I can assure you, I had no part in whatever it is you’re looking into.”

“When Nora and Ash were working together, did you know what they were doing?” I ask. The conversation’s stalling. Zane can’t bring up Ingrid or Mallory, or even Max, without sounding like he’s accusing Guthrie of crimes he may not have committed.

“Did I know Nora was helping him sell women? Did I know she was planning to pack women onto a cargo ship like sardines and ship them to God knows where? Did I know about the prostitution service Black was conducting out of Ladies and Gentlemen and that he would drag Nora into the shit? Did I know—”

“Did you know when he shot into the crowd he was aiming for my brother?”

Guthrie blinks. “I didn’t consider he was aiming at anyone.”

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