Let Me Go by Chelsea Cain Page A

me,” Star said. She turned the doorknob and pushed the door in.
    Archie followed her inside to a large guest bedroom suite.
    The door to the private bath was open, and Leo Reynolds stood in front of the sink, with the faucet running. He was wearing a tuxedo, but the jacket and tie were gone. His shirt was unbuttoned and open, and his sleeves were rolled up. The white fabric of the shirt was soaked with blood—arterial spray, low-velocity. The water in the sink was pink. He was cleaning up.
    Leo froze when he saw Archie. His eyes were bloodshot. His hands shook. Whatever had happened, it had been bad.
    â€œAre you okay?” Archie asked.
    Leo exhaled roughly and stared at Archie with dismay. Then his eyes went to Star. “What have you done?” he asked. “Bringing him here?”
    â€œHe can help,” Star said.
    â€œWe were worried about you,” Archie said. “What’s going on? Tell me what happened.”
    â€œThey’ll be back any minute,” Leo said. “Jesus Christ.” He looked fixedly at Archie. “We have a problem,” he said. He walked toward Archie and put his arm around Archie’s shoulder. Archie could smell the soap Leo had used, an astringent, eye-watering odor; he’d known to use something strong, something that would obliterate any trace of blood that Luminol might pick up. “Listen to me,” Leo said. “We don’t have much time. Susan is on the island.” Archie felt something deep inside him go cold. “They’re using her to control me,” Leo said. “You have to find her and get her out of here.”
    â€œSusan?” Archie said. His mind went back to the red hooded sweatshirt downstairs. “What?”
    Archie felt Leo’s arm tighten around his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Leo said, as he stepped behind Archie. Leo’s elbow hooked under Archie’s chin and the hand of his opposite arm palmed the back of Archie’s head. Archie tried to step away, but Leo pressed against him, his thigh secured against the back of Archie’s leg. Leo’s grip on Archie’s neck was firm and Archie struggled to get a breath. He could already feel the black fog of unconsciousness closing in on him as his brain screamed for oxygen. The carotid artery traveled up the side of the neck. When blood flow was interrupted, you had maybe a minute before you blacked out.
    Archie clawed at Leo’s arm, but he was already losing strength.
    â€œI don’t know how to do this very well, so don’t fight me,” Leo whispered into Archie’s ear. “I don’t want to break your neck.”
    Archie’s hands were tingling. His lips and tongue were going numb. He felt his hands drop to his sides and his body relax as Leo lowered him to the floor. Leo’s arm was still tight around Archie’s neck, his hand still pressing hard against Archie’s skull. Archie saw his feet out in front of him, twitching on the floor, his stupid rented shoes. And he saw Star inching forward into his vision. Her hand was over her mouth. Her dress shimmered. And then she blurred, and when she came into focus again, she was gone, and Gretchen was there.
    Gretchen didn’t look like she had the last time he’d seen her, when she’d freshly escaped from the mental hospital and her hair was dark, her body still showing signs of the medication they’d pumped into her. She looked like she had before, in all her homicidal glory. Her thick blond hair fell in glossy waves to her shoulders. Her features—those famous blue eyes, her regal nose, that beauty queen smile—were almost blindingly attractive. She was just a hallucination. The mind did funny things when it thought it might be dying. But Archie was still aware enough to find it interesting that of all the people his brain decided to conjure at this moment, it chose her.
    She smiled at him and took his hand in hers and lifted