Page 32 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

The place seems quiet and empty. After what happened at the gala, I bet it’s going to be a bit before anyone wants to host a big event here, which works in our favor.

We come out into the lobby just in time to see a harried looking woman go rushing past, holding a phone to her ear before disappearing behind the front desk.

The only other people in the glittering lobby are the bored looking guy behind the front desk, and a security guard who eyes us as we step in. He glances at the desk guy, who doesn’t look up from his phone, and then shakes his head, moving to intercept us.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

Instinctively, I size him up. He’s shorter than me and a little broader, but the weight isn’t muscle, judging from his frame. Tired eyes, and a weapon on his hip. Hard to tell in the holster if it’s a gun or a taser, but better not to take the risk.

River doesn’t even pause, just flashes him a smile that I’ve never seen before. It’s like she shifts into a different person in front of me, and I blink at her, remembering what she said about being good at getting what she wants from people.

“Is it true?” she asks, dropping her voice down to a murmur and leaning in closer to him. “About the other night?”

The guard glances around. “I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

“But you were here, right?” River continues, her voice low and a little breathless. “Did you see it? The body?”

He shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I was out here in the lobby.”

River nods. “Keeping everybody safe, right? Making sure no one could get in to hurt anyone. Everyone got out safe, I bet. You seem like you’re really good at your job.”

She puts a hand on his arm, like she’s going to feel his bicep or something, and the guard practically preens. I’d say she’s laying it on a little thick, but apparently, it’s working. He’s eating it up.

“Well, I do my best, you know,” he says with false self-deprecation. “Room full of some of Detroit’s most important people, someone has to keep them safe.”

She nods again, like she’s in complete agreement. “It’s just so crazy what happened. I mean, a body in a place like this? How did they even get it in? Why did they mutilate it like that? So many questions.”

“Why are you so interested?” the guard wants to know, narrowing his eyes a little.

River glances around like she’s about to tell him a secret. “I just really go wild for this kind of stuff,” she whispers. “I run a true crime blog, and whenever something like this happens close to Detroit, I just have to try to get all the details, you know? It’s just so fascinating.” She bites her lip and twirls a bit of hair around one finger. “Do you think…? No, never mind.”

The guard is following her every movement with his eyes, and he watches the way her teeth sink into her lower lip with heat in his gaze. It makes me bristle, but I keep my face neutral and my mouth shut. River can handle this.

“What?” he asks. “How can I help?”

“Well… I was wondering if you had any information about who was here that night?” she presses on. “It would make for such a compelling story if I had names, you know? Or even just descriptions to make the story feel more real for my readers. This is the first time I’ve been able to get in so early on something like this. It would really help me out, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Her hand is still on his arm, and she trails it down a little bit, making the guard swallow hard. I can see him struggling between doing his job and pleasing a pretty girl, and in the end, the pretty girl wins out.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he says, dipping behind his little kiosk stand in the corner. “But Dorothy—she’s the one in charge around here.” He makes a face that says all it needs to say about what he thinks of Dorothy. “Dorothy needed copies of the guest list for the police and the feds, you know. She made me go make them, even though I told her that’s not my fucking job. I’m not the fucking copy guy. Next thing I know, she’s going to be asking me to make her coffee or something. Anyway, I made a bunch of copies because I didn’t want to have to go back to make more if she needed them.”

“Ugh. She sounds like a bitch,” River agrees.

“Oh, she is.” He huffs a quiet laugh, then pulls out a piece of paper and folds it up into a square. After a second of thought, he grabs a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to River. “You didn’t get this from me.”

She nods eagerly. “Of course not. I’ve never met you before. Thankssomuch for your help.”

“Sure. Hey, are you staying here?”

“Mm-hm,” River says. “Third floor.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around. My shift ends at six today.”

River gives him a wink and shoves the folded paper in her pocket. “Maybe I’ll come down around five fifty.”

He grins at her, and she actually manages to flush on cue. She gives him a little wave before leading the way right out the front door.

As soon as we’re out of sight, the giggly, flirtatious look drops from her face, and she rolls her eyes.

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