Let Me Go by Chelsea Cain

it for a moment and then Archie whispered, “It’s a clip-on.”
    He thought he saw her roll her eyes. But she unclipped it and opened his shirt collar.
    The voices were closer and Archie looked over Star’s shoulder to see two of Jack Reynolds’s security detail rounding the corner. Star pressed against him, the black bag between them, touching but not touching. Whatever was inside the bag, it was soft.
    The men looked at Archie and sniggered, but kept walking, and soon disappeared around the house.
    â€œAll clear,” Archie said.
    Star stepped back, creating space between them. “If we run into anyone else, I may kiss you, so try not to freak out or cry or anything,” she said.
    â€œSure,” Archie said, wondering what it was about him that made her think he’d cry if he was kissed. She took his hand and they continued along the hedge maze away from the light of the torch and back into the darkness.
    Her hand was cold, and as it warmed in his, Archie searched for something to say. He barely knew this woman, but they had shared an intimate moment. He had seen her barely clothed. He’d been turned on by her. But then, it probably hadn’t seemed intimate to her at all. She’d just been working. She’d figured him for a prude. If only she knew. “So is Star your real name?” he asked, the question sounding stupid even as it left his mouth.
    â€œStar’s my stripper name,” she said. The dark side yard opened up to a brightly lit gravel driveway filled with catering vehicles. Across the driveway was a vine-covered Tudor cottage straight out of a fairy tale.
    â€œMy real name is Destiny.”
    Archie thought he saw Star wink when she said it, but he couldn’t be sure.

 
    CHAPTER
    13
    Â 
    The door to the guesthouse was unlocked. But Archie noticed that Star opened it slowly, peering cautiously inside before she quickly stepped over the threshold, and pulled him in behind her, past the stone gargoyles that stood sentry on either side of the front door. No one had questioned them. Two men in catering uniforms with masks around their necks were leaning against a van smoking cigarettes, but they had barely glanced up as Star and Archie had walked by. Archie didn’t spot any of Jack’s security detail stationed at the back of the house, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
    â€œThere are cameras,” Star said, closing the door. “All over the island.”
    Archie didn’t know if she knew that for a fact, or if she was just being paranoid. But if she was being paranoid, it was contagious, and he found himself scanning the corners for telltale red lights.
    Inside, the house looked bigger than it did on the outside. The Tudor architecture carried over, with dark exposed wood beams and arched doorways, and stucco walls that had been expensively and laboriously distressed for authenticity. The lights in the room were on a dimmer switch and had been dialed down to the perfectly calibrated ambient glow of a high-end restaurant—barely light enough to see your food, but not light enough to read the menu.
    There was a selection of gowns spread out in the living room, and what looked like a makeup kit on a table, as if someone had used the space as a makeshift dressing room. Archie noted a red hooded sweatshirt cast over the back of a sofa, and a pair of black sneakers kicked under a chair. Susan had a sweatshirt like that. But so did half the people on the east side.
    â€œUpstairs,” Star whispered.
    Archie nodded and followed her out of the living room and up a flight of carpeted stairs. Their footsteps were soundless on the carpet and the house felt still and empty. But as they headed down the second-story hall, Archie could make out the faint sound of water running. Star stopped at a closed door and put her ear to it and listened. The water sounded like it was coming from the other side. “It’s