Maddison's POV
“The name was Cook, Miss Carter," Jon said, his voice dropping even further. "Tyler Cook."
Her breath caught in her throat. The name hit her like a fist, a punch in her throat that took her breath away. Tyler. Here. It was so silly, so totally absurd, that for a moment she couldn't understand it. She let her eyes track him to the seating area, over the sleek green tops of the ficus trees.
Sitting in one of the massive leather armchairs was a man who was thin, ill looking. An expensive but rumpled suit jacket spread over his bony shoulders like something borrowed. His hair, his pride and joy one time, was now a greasy tangle of knots. His complexion had a yellowish, grayish tint. He was shaking with a nervous tension that she could feel even on the opposite side of the lob
