Archie checked the concrete floor for traces of blood and saw what looked like a partial footprint in front of one of the pallet stacks maybe twenty feet out. He heaved himself toward it, clutching his side, but when he reached the footprint, he didn’t see another.

The low hum of the air recirculation system echoed off the concrete walls. Archie listened for footsteps, anything, but he could feel his senses slipping from him. The periphery of his vision was blackening. His hands had gone numb.

Archie leaned against the tarp-covered stack of pallets next to him and groped in his pocket for the amber pill bottle Jack had given him. He popped the white cap off and shook some of the small white pills onto his palm and then brought them to his mouth. He was so thirsty that he could barely manage enough saliva to choke them down. His hand tasted like blood, and the pills coated his tongue with a bitter paste. He looked at the floor, willing the pills to take effect, to give him just enough relief to keep moving. Don’t think. Don’t stop. Just move. His eyes were still on the floor when the toe of a shiny white pump stepped into his sight line. He followed the white stockings—now threaded with runs and speckled with drops of blood—up her shapely leg, her face a picture of compassion.

She took the amber plastic pill bottle from his hand, snapped the childproof white cap back on, and tucked the bottle back into his jacket pocket. Her white dress was soaked with blood. The cape and the hat were gone. “You’re looking peaked, darling,” she said.

Archie struggled to find the strength to speak. He couldn’t let Gretchen distract him. He didn’t care if she went back to jail. He didn’t care if she made a fool of him again. He just wanted to get Susan back alive. “Where are they?” he asked her.

Gretchen’s eyes were jubilant. “I told you I’d find you a serial killer,” she said. “It’s really been quite a bit of fun.”

Archie glowered at her. Karim might have a knife to Susan’s throat, but Gretchen might as well have put it there. She owed him. “If he kills her,” Archie said, “I’ll make you pay.”

Gretchen batted her lashes at him, looking hurt. “I think you’re being rather mean.”

“Tell me where they are,” Archie said. It twisted his insides to talk, to breathe. Each word took so much effort he had to pause between them.

Gretchen cocked her head, studying him, her eyes landing on the blood that had soaked through his shirt and pant leg. “You shouldn’t be bleeding that much,” she said, and Archie thought he detected a flicker of distress in her voice.

“Shot,” Archie said with a cough.