“Empty promises.”
Archie could still see Henry on the phone. He had to keep her talking. He fumbled for the pillbox in his pocket and took out four pills and put them in his mouth. Claire handed him a glass of water from his desk, and he swallowed them. “You faked the rape?” he asked Gretchen.
“No,” she said. “I just showed him what he was capable of.”
Archie’s mind turned to the heart scrawled on the bathroom mirror at the prison. “Did you kill him?” he asked. He handed the glass of water back to Claire and she set it back on the desk next to the photograph of Heather Gerber. It was 10:47.
“Does it matter?”
It was just the beginning, Archie knew. If Gretchen was out, the carnage was just beginning. “The missing sheriffs deputy?”
“Dead. Dead. Dead.”
“Turn yourself in,” Archie said. He pressed the fingers of one hand into his right temple, trying to slow the pulse of blood that beat against his skin. Susan was taking notes, recording everything. He didn’t care. “I’ll do anything you want,” he said.
“You know what I want.” She let that linger in the air between them.
“Tell me,” he said.
“I want you,” she said. “I’ve always wanted you.”
The warm pulse under his fingers quickened. He pressed against it harder. “I can’t.”
“I’d love to talk all day, darling. But I’ve got to go. It’s almost time for morning recess.”
Ten forty-eight A.M. Archie looked up. Henry was on his phone, and Archie watched as his face colored. They had a location. Henry hung up and punched another number into his cell phone and started talking. “This is Detective Henry Sobol with the Portland Police Department. Do you have lockdown procedures? Okay. I need you to lock down the school.”
Archie turned his attention back to his phone. “Gretchen?” he asked. “Where are you?”
He could hear Henry continue, his voice commanding, urgent. “We have reason to believe that Ben and Sara Sheridan are in danger. Do you know who Gretchen Lowell is? We believe she may be in your building.”
Archie felt disconnected from his body. He didn’t know if it was the pills kicking in, or just shock. But a peaceful numbness settled in his brain, making his head feel dark and heavy. None of this made sense. Gretchen couldn’t have escaped. This couldn’t be happening.
He could still hear Henry. “She is, and I can’t stress this enough, very dangerous. Do not approach her. Just lock down every classroom. No one gets near any of the kids. I have police on their way. Understand? Good.”
“Gretchen?” Archie said again. The numbness was lifting, reason rushing in. His hand clenched around the phone.
“I’m only interested in them,” she said sweetly, “because they remind me of you.” And then he heard it, through the phone. Five sets of two schoolbell rings. The signal for lockdown. She was at his children’s school. She was going to kill them. She was going to kill the last thing that mattered.
“Goodbye, darling,” she cooed, and the phone went dead.
Susan saw the phone fall from Archie’s hand. It was light and bounced once on the carpet before settling on its side, the blue LCD light holding for a moment and then going dark. The room smelled like vomit. No one but Susan seemed to notice it.
Archie stood.
She knew it had been Gretchen on the phone. She had heard Henry call Archie’s children’s school. She had pieced it together. Media blackout or no, she was going with the story. A master’s degree in creative writing. Five years of newspaper journalism. And still, the only question she could manage was, “What’s going on?”
Henry took four steps toward Archie and put a big hand on either of Archie’s upper arms. Archie’s knees buckled and for a moment it looked to Susan as if Henry were the only thing holding Archie upright. “I’ve got units on their way to the school,” Henry told Archie.
“I’ve got to go there,” Archie said. “I’ve got to go there now.”
Henry seemed to waver and then he said, “All right.”
Susan closed her notebook and stepped forward. “Me, too,” she said.
Henry didn’t even hesitate. “No,” he said.
Susan wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She waved the notebook. “Your media blackout is over,” she said. “You’ve locked down a school. Every news van in town is on its way. They’re already live with it. I’m your best bet to controlling the story. Right now, all you’re going to get is hysteria. Is that what you want?” she asked. “Hysteria?”
Henry’s voice dropped. “I want to catch her before she kills someone else,” he said.
Susan lowered the notebook, and looked him in the eyes. “I can help you do that.”
Claire said, “She can ride with me.”