Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Sandra sat back in her chair, feeling like she’d been hit by a dump truck.
Putting a clock on negotiations was never effective.
Deadlines made for impulsive decisions. She watched Kreiger’s face ball into an angry mask, and she feared he might do something rash.
But storming into Founders wasn’t the smart choice.
Not with innocent lives on the line. “Luis, I need the direct lines for all the nurses’ stations. ”
Luis rattled off the numbers while noting the floors they belonged to. Brice wrote them down, while Luis added, “I just wanted to point out the number I gave you for the eighth is for the main admin desk. No patients stay on that floor. It’s mostly offices and labs.”
Sandra put her headset on and placed the first call, starting with the sixth floor. Presumably, the man who had infected the server was there. And now the thought occurred to her, What if he never left the server room?
The line rang repeatedly before rolling over to an automated voicemail.
Next, she started on the main level and worked her way up, while skipping the fourth floor for now.
No luck until the eighth floor.
A woman answered. Her voice was sheepish. “Hello?”
Brice wrote, an innocent? on a piece of paper and pushed it over for her to see. Sandra shrugged. It might be the shot caller making herself seem guileless.
“I’m FBI Special Agent Sandra Vos.”
“Thank God. Are you here to help us?”
“We’re working on that. What’s your name?”
“Janie DeSilva. I’m an endoscopy technician with the hospital. I didn’t know the phones were back up, or I would have called nine-one-one again. I did this morning and got cut off.”
Sandra glanced over at Brice. The woman she spoke to at the cordon line said her sister’s name was Janie DeSilva. “Is it safe for you to talk with me?”
“Yes. I’m hiding beneath the desk, but I don’t think she’ll be back.”
“Who is she, Janie?”
“I don’t know who she is, but she had a gun on Pam. That’s why I called before.”
“Do you know what she wanted from Pam?” She’d get around to asking who she was.
“She was walking down the hall with her, and they pushed their way into the meeting.”
“Can you describe this woman’s looks?”
“Average, but she’s very thin, Caucasian.”
“Hair color?”
“Brown.”
“Did you hear her speak? Does she have an accent?”
“I briefly overheard her talking to Pam, but I didn’t detect an accent or anything that stood out.”
Sandra was impressed by Janie’s calm composure.
It was adrenaline helping her keep a cool head, or Sandra was wrong about the woman on the other end of the line.
It was possible she was talking to the shot caller, who was pretending to be an innocent.
She could have provided the name off a badge.
To confirm this woman’s identity, Sandra needed to find out something personal that went beyond a name badge.
“Do you have a loved one we can call to let them know you’re okay? ”
“My sister, Remy Bishop,” the woman said without hesitation. “She was going to meet me at break this morning.”
Sandra nodded at Brice and mouthed, “It’s her.” But what were the chances she’d be in contact with her sister? Slim to none, but life had a way of presenting these serendipities. “You mentioned the woman with the gun and Pam went into a meeting. What one?”
“It’s for the board of directors.”
“And who is Pam?”
“Pamela Cherry. She’s Megan Beal’s assistant.”
“And Megan Beal?”
“The CEO of the hospital,” Janie said at the same time, Luis said, “CEO.”
Brice wrote, Possible motive connected to board members?
Sandra nodded. The HT would be in a room with the most powerful people in the hospital.
She either wanted them to do something for her, or she planned on hurting one or more of them.
Either way, it would seem she wanted uninterrupted time.
“You’ve done great, Janie. Now I need you to find a safe place that’s out of the way and preferably has a lock on the door.
Don’t be wandering the hallways, all right.
Go find that spot now, and stay there until this is all over.
” She added the bit about wandering because Janie must have at least popped out to answer the phone.
Her insight was valuable, but she’d risked her life to convey it.
“Okay, I’ll go now.”
The line went dead.
Sandra hated thinking of Janie being in there without having eyes on her.
There was no way to know if she’d make it safely into a room or not.
But Sandra had other things that required her focus.
For one, Luis. She took her headset off and looked at him.
“Luis, I appreciate your contributions today. You have proven yourself an asset, but when I’m on the phone, I ask that you stay quiet.
No matter who I’m talking to.” She didn’t like being placed in a position where she had to verbalize this request. But if he pitched in while she was speaking with a hostage taker, it could distract her enough to jeopardize negotiations.
“Sorry about that. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”
“Thanks.”
“So I’ve pulled backgrounds on Janie DeSilva and Pamela Cherry.
Nothing flags,” Gibson said, and wheeled out of the way.
Their pictures were side by side on his screen.
Janie was in her thirties, and Pamela was in her late twenties.
“Both are confirmed hospital employees. DeSilva has a sister, Remy Bishop, who is married.”
Brice faced her. “Which we know. That’s the woman you spoke to when we arrived?”
“Yes.”
“You going to tell her about her sister?” Neal asked, having listened to the call along with everyone else except for Luis. He’d just overheard Sandra say Beal’s name and jumped in.
“Not yet.” She feared that by telling Remy her sister was okay, she’d somehow jinx things.
And technically, Janie wasn’t okay. She was on the eighth floor with an armed woman.
It was best to focus on what they just learned.
“Now we know the location of another armed assailant. She’s likely the shot caller we heard on the walkie-talkie. ”
“All fine, but why is she interested in the board meeting?” Neal asked.
“The most powerful people in the hospital would be in one room,” Sandra offered.
“Not just people with the hospital,” Luis said, speaking up.
He rattled off several names and followed up with, “These are founders and CEOs of large medical and pharmaceutical companies. But there’s one more person in there you need to know about.
The director is Valerie Cowan MD, head of cardiology.
There’s no one better qualified than Dr. Cowan to perform a heart transplant on a four-year-old. ”
The back of Sandra’s neck tightened on that reveal.
“Shit,” Kreiger said under his breath.
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.