Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Stella
T he hotel feels desolate, and a pall settles over us.
The minute the elevator doors open, Mel scurries down the hallway. Quinn, Denton, and I go to Max’s room as if by rote. His executive suite has always been our meeting place, our headquarters. His cat purrs, winding his way around our ankles, looking for Max. Denton picks him up and carries him out of the room.
The German shepherds I befriended belong to Governor Guthrie, and we had to leave them at the mansion. I’ll miss those dogs. When I settle into a place of my own, I’ll rescue a pet. Maybe I’ll relate better to animals than I do to people.
Quinn tugs on my hand, and we shuffle down the hallway to our room. I’m glad she doesn’t mention Zane.
I wanted to ask if I could go to the penthouse and offer Zarah support, but with the way Zane looked at me, I felt like an outsider and I kept my mouth shut. I’m not a part of his family. He blocked me out, and Quinn’s all I have left.
He doesn’t need me anymore.
Quinn unzips my dress and I unzip hers. She skips a shower and crawls into bed, wrapping herself in the bedspread, but my cast is waterproof and I pad barefoot to the Honeymoon Suite to bathe. I’ll have the room to myself and I need the quiet.
The scent of the hotel’s complimentary bubble bath relaxes me, and the warm water soothes me. I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes as the jets massage my tired muscles.
Zane won’t want us to stick around, but besides my old apartment in the building he bought, I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t want to stay at the warehouse in the industrial park, and that’s where Quinn will sleep until she flies back to New York. Maybe Zane will keep his word and give me a bit of money to live on until I can find a job. I don’t need much. I can keep my fake IDs, apply for a payroll job in a little town, and try to forget this ever happened.
Except, Quinn won’t let me disappear without her, and I’ll miss Zane and Zarah. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to start over without them.
I’m selfish thinking about myself when Max is dead, but I didn’t let myself get attached to him. I’ve learned not to care about people because it hurts when they leave.
And they always do.
Somehow.
Four days after Ash’s fundraiser, wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, I’m lying on a chaise lounge on the rooftop of the Crowne dozing in the sun. Winter is right around the corner, and the cool breeze and dropping temperatures are welcome. Quinn pokes at me the way a concerned mama does, and her attention is getting on my nerves. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I don’t feel like Zane and I are together, and staying in a hotel he owns, eating food Mel orders using his credit card, feels like charity.
For right now, the FBI asked us to stay in the area in case they need to question us further. I can’t count how many times I’ve gone through everything, and I mean everything . From the second I applied to work in the payroll department of Maddox Industries to the minute Ash fired into the crowd at the gala.
They’re particularly interested in what Ash had me work on while he kept me at Black Enterprises, how I managed to take the screenshot of Clayton’s email, the second set of books I kept for Ladies and Gentlemen, and how I escaped.
Denton, too, has gone over and over what he’s done since Zane bought him out. Why he was looking into Kagan’s death on his own, how he found me, why we went to see Zarah, and how Max found us after one of Ash’s goons pushed us into the Renegade.
He always grows quiet after mentioning Max’s name.
Using the information Mel found, the FBI looked into Maryanne’s death, and she’s another of Ash’s casualties.
The sun shines as a cloud drifts away, and I turn my head. I blame the glare for the tears in my eyes. There’s been no word from Zane. I don’t know how Zarah’s handling Max’s death.
Taking a deep breath, I try to find peace in the quiet. If we’re not answering questions, we’re watching the news, and there’s so much of it.
Surprisingly, Quiet Meadows is one of the main news stories. Journalists interviewed Zarah’s family physician, the old doctor who’s weaning her off the drug cocktail Ash was slowly poisoning her with. The authorities closed the facility upon further investigation, and already the families of the more prominent patients are screaming abuse and pressing charges. Zarah’s psychiatrist was arrested on numerous counts of malpractice, and though she doesn’t need the money, Zarah could win a lawsuit worth millions. She wouldn’t be interested in that...so much lost time is priceless.
Reporters camp outside Maddox Industries, and I’m glad Zane is protecting her. He could call and tell me how things are, but he never does.
The FBI shut down Ladies and Gentlemen and began the tedious process of interviewing and questioning his entire staff. They also found Ash’s real set of books, revealing what I already knew—that his escort/prostitution service brought in millions of dollars a year.
The Blacks’ other businesses are frozen pending investigation, and all their assets have been locked down. Denton laughed when he heard. Hotels, restaurants, workout clubs, bars, and even clothing stores are closed. The FBI and the district attorney’s office have their work cut out for them.
Every once in a while, there will be a news piece on Willow. My heart goes out to her. I had to tell Banks Willow must have at least known what her husband and son were doing, and I tried to convince him to offer her some leniency. After all, I wouldn’t have been able to escape if she hadn’t looked the other way.
The sun hides behind another cloud, and I shiver. I should go downstairs, but I can’t face Max’s empty room. I can’t face Zane’s silence or Denton’s sorrow.
We won, but in some ways, some important ways, we lost, too.
I stare over the Renegade and say a prayer for the lives lost on that river.
Mel walks across the rooftop looking more relaxed than I’ve seen her since we met. Her hair blows in the breeze, and she’s wearing a tank top and silk lounging pants. She’s barefoot and holding two mugs.
“Hey,” she murmurs, sliding onto the chaise lounge next to me.
“Hey.”
She passes me a mug, and I sip the café mocha she must have ordered from somewhere. The warm drink chases away the chill in my bones, and the caffeine and chocolate soothes my raw nerves. “Thanks.”
“Quinn’s worried about you.”
I lift a shoulder. “She always is. What’s she doing?”
“Watching the news. It’s like a train wreck. Horrifying, but you can’t look away.”
“Have they found anything new?” They repeat the same things, most of which we knew because we were in on it from the beginning.
“The police department tracked down Max’s family. His half-brother is a PI and lives in the city. His father was Senator Cook.”
I give her a blank stare.
“Minnesota’s Republican senator,” she says.
“Oh. He didn’t say anything. His dad’s important then.”
“He’s given a short statement to the press saying Max’s curiosity has always gotten him into trouble. It doesn’t seem like he and the Blacks were involved, personally or business-wise.”
“That’s good.”
Max never spoke of family, only his ex-girlfriend who told him the NTSB had found the black box.
I sip the coffee. Mel has an expectant air about her. She wants to tell me something, and I wait.
“Stella . . .”
I tense.
“There was a leak, and someone released a partial list of Ash’s clients. Things are going to get bad. Mayor Huxley’s been in custody since the gala, and last night he committed suicide. He stabbed himself in the neck with a pen.”
Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the back of the lounging chair. “Because of his association with Nathalie?”
“No. His daughter came forward and said he’s been molesting her for years. She’s fifteen now. They asked her what she thought of her father’s suicide, and she said she was glad he was dead.”
“That poor girl.”
“She’s going to live with an aunt in New Jersey. Her mother claims she didn’t know, but her daughter said she tried to tell her many times. Angelica Huxley may be looking at some prison time, too, at the very least, for neglect.”
My throat closes with heartache. I know what it’s like to beg for help and have everyone turn away. “She wanted the lifestyle of being Mrs. Huxley, the wife of the mayor of King’s Crossing,” I say bitterly.
“I think so,” Mel agrees. She pauses and sips her coffee. “Zane’s on the list.”
That’s not a surprise. “Because of Nathalie.”
This time it’s true.
“Yeah. Ash didn’t charge him, but he’s listed as a client.”
“That’s Zane’s fault for trusting Ash. Will he go to prison?” I straighten in alarm. “Who will take care of Zarah?”
“Because of his role in all this, he won’t serve time. He can plead his sentence down and pay a fine.”
I’m relieved on Zarah’s behalf. She’s had such a tumultuous few months since Denton and I found her at Quiet Meadows. I’m worried how more changes would affect her.
“Has he called you?” Mel asks.
“No. He took Max’s death hard. He’s grieving and probably needs time alone.”
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m flying back to California at the end of the week. Banks gave me the okay as long as he can get a hold of me if he has questions.”
I want to reach out and touch her, pat her arm or something, but between the cast and the coffee, it’s too much effort. “I’ll miss you. Thanks for everything you did for us. Even if I didn’t like you at first.” I laugh a little, remembering her ambushing me in my old apartment.
“You don’t have to thank me, Stella, and you can visit whenever you want. Hell, if you want a job, I need an office manager. You have a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. I’m going to need one, and California would be a nice change of scenery. I’ve never seen the ocean.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “What about Zane? He said he’d take care of you.”
I jerk a shoulder, almost sloshing the coffee out of my mug. “The last thing he told me was to fuck off—”
“He didn’t mean that. He was in shock.”
“I know, but I’m going to remind him of every terrible thing that’s happened. I don’t need him to take care of me. I need a little help to find my footing, then I can take care of myself. I have been all my life.”
Mel squeezes my arm. “Zane will come through. Underneath it all, he loves you. If, for some reason, he thinks it won’t work between you...he’ll still give you everything you need.”
I force myself to smile. “Yeah, sure.”
It’s not as easy as Mel makes it sound. I still have panic attacks when the real world gets to be too much, but I’ve been able to hide them from Quinn. I started having nightmares at night. I fear being trapped, but I’m scared of the wide-open spaces of freedom.
I told Zane I want a home, but I don’t know where to find one or how to build one, and I’m too scared to try. Anytime I’ve tried to find stability, it’s been ripped from me like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from underneath a vase. Only, I shatter.
Every time.
I stay on the rooftop and watch the sun set. The view should give me peace, but it doesn’t. It only symbolizes one more day gone, and another day coming when I’ll flail, unsure of what’s next.
I linger on the rooftop until the sun completely disappears, and the hotel across the river that Denton said belongs to Ash remains a black column in the dark.