Page 48 of Every Last One
“Jamie Radcliffe,” Luis told him.
“Is he one of them?” Monica pointed at the photos of the gunmen on the markerboard.
Brice clicked on his laptop and stopped shortly after, shook his head. “Radcliffe’s driver’s license looks nothing like either male hostage taker we’re aware of. According to his background, Radcliffe is thirty-nine, single, and lives alone. No criminal record. One of the women could be connected to the case involving his brother. A girlfriend or wife of the brother?”
“The deceased’s name?” Monica asked.
“Roger Radcliffe.”
Monica tapped on her laptop and beat Brice to pulling the background this time. “He was unmarried at the time of death. The girlfriend bit could hold true, though.”
Neal nodded. “I’ll get an officer out to talk with Jamie Radcliffe to see what we can dig up there.”
Our efforts must pay off eventually… Right?Sandra stared at the photographs of the three hostage takers. Just ordinary-looking people. Surely, something had to give soon. A piece of intel that could help her fashion a strategy that would get them to surrender. But short of that, she didn’t want to dwell onall the ways the next hour could go wrong. Thoughts of that little girl and her medical crisis weren’t far from mind. Neither was Jordon Maddox and the others in the hospital who might need medical attention. She recognized the fine balance between killing time and pushing things a little too far. The former got her brother killed. But she had a horrible feeling about what would happen if they rushed things.
TWENTY-FIVE
2:15 PM
Eric followed Wyatt inside a cream-colored home office and waited while he dug a file out of the desk drawer. He handed it over to Eric.
It was a good half inch thick. Eric set the file on the desk and snapped on a pair of gloves. “You mentioned a more recent one that had her spooked.”
“Knowing Meg, it should be the one on top. Most recent, most readily available.”
“All right.” Eric grabbed the top sheet and noticed two things right away. This wasn’t a copy of the threat, rather the original, and there was a sticky note stuck to the page. He read that first.
Celeste Barrington, failed as an intern, fired
The threat was typeset and printed.
I blame you for my life. My failure of a life. You never had anything nice to say, never had my back. All you had to do was show just a teeny amount of kindness, but no, you were too proud and arrogant for that. You never listen to my side.You bitch! I plan to make your life a living hell, and if you doubt I can get that close, think again.
Short and to the point, signed off with the initials CB. She wasn’t exactly hiding her identity. Beal was clearly able to determine who she was by the letters and likely some wording in the message.
Eric was about to return the threat to the folder when he noticed an anomaly at the base of the page. The top layer of the paper had been lifted, the fibers frayed as if something sticky had been stuck there and peeled off. Eric pointed this out to Wyatt. “Do you know what was there?”
Wyatt came closer and leaned in, shook his head.
“And she never mentioned this to you?”
“I…” Wyatt looked away.
Right, you don’t make a habit of listening to your wife when she talks…“Does your wife have any close friends who she might have confided in about this letter?”
“Phyllis Hudson. I have her number if you’d like that.”
“Please. Does she work at the hospital?”
“No, she’s with Child Services.” Wyatt took his phone out of the interior pocket in his suit jacket and rattled off the number as Eric tapped it into the Notes app on his phone.
“Your wife noted this letter came from Celeste Barrington, a failed intern. Is your wife responsible for the fate of interns?”
“Not directly, but she can override the decision of their supervising doctor.”
“Has she ever done that?”
“I don’t see why. As a confident leader, she trusts the judgment of the doctors she puts in charge.”
