Page 35 of Every Last One
She didn’t say as much out loud, but the coordinator wanted more information, and now he had some. Sandra stood and stretched her neck. “Nothing’s changed.” She looked at Kreiger, petitioning him to hear her out. “We just didn’t know this moments ago. The situation was still there.”Just like it was with Phoebe Chapman…Awareness didn’t make something exist; it simply drew attention there. “We need to consider what could be gained by an audience with these people. Is the goal here to get something from them or target one or more of them for revenge?”
“Well, this woman held a gun on Beal’s assistant,” Gibson said. “She had her take her to the meeting room. Maybe Beal’s the main target?”
Brice teetered his hand. “Hmm, she could be. But without assuming that, maybe the woman just used the assistant as a point of entry to get into the meeting.” Brice turned to Luis. “Are these meetings held on a regular schedule, and are they public knowledge?”
“The middle of every month, but they aren’t publicized.”
Brice let out a small groan. “Then it’s possible we’re looking at someone else on the inside who knew about the regularity of these meetings, who may be behind this.”
“It could have been Stevie Cross, for that matter,” Sandra suggested.
“Speaking of Cross, I’d say he isn’t talking, or Detective Birch would have reached out to tell us,” Neal said.
Sandra wondered who Cross was protecting and why. It was unfortunate people couldn’t be made to talk. “Luis, are the identities of the board members public knowledge?”
“They are listed on the hospital website.”
Sandra met Brice’s gaze. It sure seemed like getting to someone in that room was today’s goal. The reason remained a mystery, but what concerned Sandra more was being too late to stop this before someone died.
EIGHTEEN
1:10 PM
The only sound in the woman’s ears was the beating of her own heart. She’d laid out her case to those in the room, but they weren’t talking. Just giving her blank stares. The more she yelled at them and waved her gun, the quieter and more withdrawn they became. She wished she could shake some sense into them. Couldn’t they see no one was going anywhere until this matter was resolved? But they obstinately thought they could remain indifferent, that the police would move in and rescue them. For many people in this room, who saved lives for a living, she would bet they’d be willing to sacrifice hers if it meant their freedom. But these people scared her far less than the sketchy people in that dive bar where she’d sourced the guns for today.
“None of you are leaving until I say so. You hear me? I’m the one in charge.” She flailed the gun around, prepared to use it if it came down to it. To prepare for today, she went to the shooting range a few times for lessons. The last thing she wanted to do was blow off her own foot in a gunfire mishap. No, if she pulled the trigger, she’d make sure the muzzle was pointed at her target and hold the gun steady and true in a two-handed grip.
“Just let us go.” Beal, the CEO, was still seated on her throne at the head of the table.
“No one cares that you’re even in here, don’t you get that?” She’d seen the police move in hours ago, even caught a glimpse of the law enforcement circus that had grown outside the window. But thanks to disabled phone lines and the jammer, she had all the time she needed. Uninterrupted. And so what if they got eyes inside through security cameras? There were none in this room, and if they saw her, they wouldn’t be able to identify her anyhow. “Not about me, and not about you,” she added.
“That’s where you’re wr?—”
She held up her hand to silence the woman. Her ears were picking up on something else. Another voice from the hallway.
“The police are going to come in here and shoot you,” one of the men said in a bold demonstration of stupidity.
She was tempted to pop a bullet in his skull. She might have if she wasn’t so focused on… someone talking? Maybe she was hearing things. But just as she thought that, there was the scant sound of footsteps.
The police, or someone intending to play hero?
She couldn’t let it go, or she’d be taking a big chance all her hard work in getting this far would blow up in her face. “Everyone stay put, or I will start shooting.” She opened the door. A shadow streaked across the end of the hall. “You! Get back here!”
She waited, and the shadow gained form. A young lab technician came back, with her arms in the air.
“Come here,” she prompted her.
The tech slowly walked toward her. “I’m sorry…”
As she came closer, she recognized the young woman. She walked past her and Beal’s assistant on the way to the boardroom. Cold fear shot through her. “Tell me why you’re sorry.”
The woman shook but said nothing.
“Speak!”
“The phones are back online, and I?—”
“The lines are back?” What happened to the virus put on the system or the jammer, and why hadn’t she heard any phones ringing? Though those in the room might have muted theirs for the meeting.
