"No. There's a bar at the far end of this hall," he said. "Help me down there. I'm badly in need of a drink."
Jane didn't think this was a good idea, but who was she to argue with her quarry? Oddly enough, it was the same floor she and Shelley were on, and she hadn't known what was at the other end of the floor. She gingerly put one arm around his waist to hold him up. He leaned heavily against her as she led him carefully toward the bar.
The bar was private to the suites. They had to show their room keys. There were only two other customers and they were together at the bar. She hoisted Zac into a very comfortable chair near a
good light and said, "Just relax. What do you want to drink?"
"Scotch on the rocks." -
She bought his drink, tipped the bartender well, grabbed a bowl of pretzels, then set the drink and pretzels down in front of Zac. She waited patiently until he'd knocked back the first few gulps, then she pulled a copy of the two pages out of her purse.
"Do you recognize these pages?"
"I can hardly see them," he said. "What's this all about, lady?"
Jane stood up and tilted the light to better illuminate the pages. He leaned over and read for a minute or two. "I wrote this. Where the hell did you find it?"
"You had it in your hand when a passerby found you in the parking lot."
He suddenly looked more alert.
"How did you come by it?"
"I'll tell you all about it when you're feeling better. Eat some of these pretzels with your drink."
He slowly read through the pages, then passed the pages back and did as she said. Again, he put his hand over his eyes. But not from pain, she thought. He was remembering something. At least she hoped he was.
"It's coming back," he said. Then he didn't speak for another few minutes. "I gave a copy to Sophie, and Corwin told me she lost it." Hepaused to munch a couple of pretzels, then said, "It was a book I wrote long ago and I was bringing her another. It was the last one I'd kept. What became of the rest of the book? Do you have any idea what it means to a writer to not have a single copy of the book he worked so hard on? To have it simply not exist anymore?"
"I understand it a little. I once completely lost chapter three of the book I'm working on. I hadn't printed it out and somehow I erased it. I spent a whole day trying to find it. They say nothing is ever completely gone from a computer, but I never found it."
"What did you do?"
"I rewrote it. And it was much better than before. As for your book, it's probably still in your van. The police have the original page. If you want me to call them and tell them to save it, I will."
"Please do. Take my car keys and see if the rest of the book is still in the van, would you?"
"Of course. But only if you eat the whole bowl of pretzels while I'm gone. Where is your van parked?"
"On the north side of the hotel. It's dark blue."
She rose quickly, meaning to take Shelley along. But she was afraid getting Shelley would take too much time. She didn't want Zac to disappear or become thoroughly drunk.
The moment she was out of the elevator, she called Mel and said, "Would you please save that page you faxed me?"
"Janey! What is this obsession?"
"I don't have time to explain. Please just take my word that it's important."
There was a long silence before he said, "You're meddling in something that's none of your business and probably dangerous, aren't you?"
"Not in the least. I must go. I'll get back to you later to explain."
She'd been making this promise to too many people in the last few minutes.
The parking lot was deserted and she harked back to Mel's accusation. She hurried to the van, unlocked it, hopped in, and relocked the doors while she hunted. She was still haunted by the dream she'd had last night. She could imagine the glass monster suddenly appearing in the window.
Finally she found the book half under the passenger seat. At least she assumed it was the right book. It had fallen to pieces. She stacked them up the best she could and dumped some newer books out of a plastic bag and put the old book in it.
Looking carefully to see who might be around, and finding the small lot behind the hotel still deserted, and no monster in view, she climbed out of the van, locked it back up, bolted for the front of the hotel, and took the elevator back to the top floor.
Zac was still where she'd left him. His normal color had returned. The bowl of pretzels was empty. He looked more alert and hadn't even finished the drink.
Jane put the plastic bag down on the table, and he all but fell on it. "Where did you find it?" "Under the front passenger seat."
"Why would I have put it there?" Zac asked himself. "I don't suppose I'll ever remember the reason."
"You don't have to," Jane assured him. "Better that than reliving the whole incident."
"How can I ever thank you enough?"
"Give me a good review without the words 'powder puff' in it, if I ever get published," Jane said with a smile. "Now tell me why putting this book in Sophie's hands was so important."
He did so.
After listening to his explanation, Jane said, "That was first on my list of suspicions. I think you, I, and my friend Shelley should make a point of finding Sophie Smith as quickly as we can. Are you feeling well enough to do that yet?"
Nineteen
"Stay right where you are, Zac," Jane said. "use my cell phone to call Sophie Smith while I find my friend Shelley."
When she completed the long gallop to the far end of the hall at practically the speed of light, she burst into the room and told Shelley what Zac had told her.
"I know all about it. I've been on the computer. I found Vernetta's e-pubbed book and did a search for an unusual phrase on your copy of the pages. I didn't know the work was Zac's though. She's plagiarized his book and probably plagiarized someone else's as well. I read part of the woman character's scenes and they're an entirely different style. Is Zac with you?"
"No. He's at the other end of the hall."
"Then I can be honest. The other person's work is good. Lots better than Zac's writing. Just as boring a concept, however. How did you figure out it was Zac's work?" Shelley asked.
"I don't have time to explain. I'll tell you all
about it later," Jane replied. "This is the third time I've said that to someone. Zac has my cell phone and is trying to reach Sophie Smith. He's in the bar at the far end of this hallway."
"There's a bar on this floor? I wish I'd known," Shelley said distractedly. She gathered up the pages she'd printed out on the little printer connected to her laptop.
They hurried down the hall. Jane introduced Shelley to Zac and asked him if he'd been able to reach Sophie.