Archie took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Give it a minute,” he whispered.
She tilted her head, confused.
Henry stormed between Archie and the camera. “The interview’s over,” he said.
Archie heard Charlene say, “Archie Sheridan has collapsed. We’ll update you with more information as soon as we have it. Jim, back to you.” The camera must have stopped filming because then she added, “Fucking shit.”
“Go,” Henry said. “Now. Everybody out.”
“Should I call for paramedics?” Buddy asked.
“No,” Archie said from the carpet. “Fergus.”
Henry manhandled Charlene Wood and her crew out the door, leaving their backdrop screen where it sat behind the sofa.
Archie heard the kids’ bedroom door open and a moment later Sara was kneeling beside him. “Daddy?” she said.
“I’m fine,” Archie said. He lifted his free hand and wiped a tear from Sara’s pink, wet cheek. “I’m fine.”
Sara looked down and immediately noticed what no one else had. “What’s wrong with your hand, Daddy?”
Archie pulled himself up into a seated position. Ben was standing at the end of the sofa. “Take your sister back into your room,” Archie told him. Ben held his hand out and Sara glanced once at her father before obediently standing up and following Ben into the suite’s second bedroom.
“What’s going on?” Debbie asked, her voice flat.
“Shh,” Archie said. “Please. Everyone. Quiet.”
“Archie?” Henry said.
“Just wait,” Archie said.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to hear the noise.
And then there it was. His cell phone.
Gretchen had been watching the news.
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Are you all right?” Gretchen asked.
Archie waved a hand at Henry, and Henry immediately snapped open his cell phone to get a trace on the incoming call.
Archie’s heart banged in his chest, and he had to struggle to keep his voice conversational. “Worried about me?” he asked.
“You looked swollen, darling,” she said. “It’s the edema. Your liver’s shutting down.”
He glanced down at his free hand. The palm was scarlet; the flesh of his fingers tight with fluid. He closed his fist and hid it under his armpit. “I want to see you.”
He could hear her breathing. Her long, light breaths only made his breathing seem more strangled. “Soon,” she said.
“Then you’re still in the area?” Archie asked, glancing up at Henry to make sure he had heard.
She took another breath, exhaled. “I want to be close to you.”
“Where are you?” Archie asked.
“Where are you?”
Henry looked at Archie and shook his head. Archie knew what that meant. Gretchen was on a prepaid cell phone. Untraceable. She would hang up and go about her merry business and there was nothing they could do to stop her. “Gretchen,” Archie said. “Don’t kill anyone else, okay?”
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
Archie’s hand found its way to his flank, the dull burning pain behind his ribs. “Yeah.”
He could almost hear her smile through the phone. “Good.”
The line went dead and Archie sat with the phone in his hand, only then realizing that he had been gripping it so tightly that his fingers ached. He set the phone down on the table and forced his cramped fingers straight. He hadn’t worn a wedding ring in almost two years, but his hand still looked naked without it.
Henry, who had been pacing with his hands threaded behind his neck, stopped and slammed a fist into the baby-shit wall. The sound of his flesh hitting the plaster caused everyone in the room to turn. “Shit,” Henry said, withdrawing his hand and shaking it. A hairline crack in the plaster marked the impact.
Buddy sat on the arm of the chair. “No one knows about the calls.” He looked back and forth at each of them. “It doesn’t leave this room.”
Debbie, who had been sitting on the sofa, her hands balled in her lap, stood and walked into the kids’ bedroom without a word.
Archie had so much to say to her, to explain, but it would have to wait.
The door to the suite was flung open and Archie and Henry turned. Susan Ward stood in the doorway. She was wearing all black and her turquoise hair glowed like the top of a flame against her flushed, angry face. “You gave an interview to Charlene-fucking-Wood?”
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When did you ID the Jane Doe?” Buddy asked softly.
Susan looked livid. “That was my scoop. I was the one who identified her. It was my story.” She looked at Archie sitting on the floor, then at Henry holding his hand and the spider crack on the wall beside him. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Archie pulled himself up and sat down on the sofa where Debbie had been. The cushion was still warm. “I needed it on TV,” he said to Susan.
“Are you sure it was her?” Buddy asked Archie.
Susan’s mouth opened. “You knew?” she said, her eyes narrowing at Buddy. “You knew about Castle and Molly?”