Archie relaxed a little, his eyes taking in his surroundings. He was in a long room with a pale blue couch, and a crowd of chairs, as if extra seating had been brought in from other rooms. He saw the word search book and remembered his children being there, and Debbie. He could hear muted hospital sounds—intercom announcements, snippets of hallway conversation. A plastic tray of half-eaten food sat near where Henry had been sitting, and the room smelled faintly of green beans and chicken.

Fragments of memories began to form in his brain, seizing him by the chest. “The uniforms outside my apartment?” Archie asked, trying to sit up again.

“They’re okay,” Henry said, gently pushing Archie back. “She drugged them.”

“Did you get Karim?” Archie asked.

“Gretchen killed him,” Henry said, pulling up a plastic chair and taking a seat next to Archie’s IV pump. “We’ll go through all the details when you’re a little stronger.” He paused, scratching at the white bristles on his chin. “One bit of business we do need to go over,” he said. “Rachel’s downtown. I had her held overnight as a material witness. You want her charged?”

Henry had gone to his apartment, just as Archie had known he would. He had found Rachel. She had told him everything. If Archie had had any shame left, he would have burned from the humiliation. But he was too tired, and Henry had witnessed his indiscretions before. “No,” Archie said. Where Rachel had been involved, he had been a willing fool. “But tell her to lay low for a while,” he said. “I don’t think Gretchen would hurt her.” He saw Gretchen in his mind, the nurse’s costume splattered with blood. “But I don’t know.”

“Your dog is at my house, by the way,” Henry said. “The kid next door is staying with her. Last time I checked in, he said that she had chewed the beads off my Minnetonka moccasins.”

“Claire hates those shoes anyway,” Archie said. He tried to smile, but it took too much strength. “How many dead at the house?” Archie asked.

“Ten, including Jack,” Henry said grimly. “Eleven, if you count Lisa Watson. You’re going to have to answer a lot of questions in the next few days.”

Archie thought of the chaotic trail of blood, Razor Burn slashed by Gretchen and then shot by Cooper. It would take a diagram to figure it all out. “Did Cooper make it out?” he asked.

“Cooper?” Henry pulled out his notebook and flipped through it. A tiny fragment of green bean was stuck to his mustache. “We didn’t find anyone by that name, alive or dead.”

Archie smiled weakly. Razor Burn would have died anyway, but Cooper had saved Archie’s life when he’d hastened the process.

“Should we be looking for him?” Henry asked. “Was it his gun you were using?”

Archie closed his eyes.