Zane crossed over the bridge and peeled off north on Bayview Drive to a small upscale community east of downtown Ft. Lauderdale. The rain had slacked to a drizzle. He zipped into an expansive parking lot for a high-rise apartment complex. “There’s a hotel a block from here. We’re going to check in for the night. I know you’re tired, honey, but we’re close,” Zane said. Angel nodded mutely, giving him reason to believe she’d hit her physical and emotional limit. His overnight bag was still in the truck, forgotten when he’d returned from Jacksonville. After tossing his cell phone into the bag, he left his weapon on his hip and pulled his shirttail loose to cover it. Zane circled the truck to Angel’s side and helped her down. Her icy hand barely clung to his as she shuffled along beside him. They stepped into the lobby of La Shasta, Ft. Lauderdale’s newest five-star hotel, and dripped puddles on the marble floor fit for a palace.
