Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Elwood’s swearing was still pounding in Sandra’s head.
To say he hadn’t taken the news about Jordon Maddox being shot well was an understatement.
Elwood confided in her he had no intention of sharing this with the FBI director unless the situation became fatal.
She appreciated that but didn’t relish being part of the conspiracy.
The truth had a way of getting out, and if Maddox died, the director would be out for heads.
She imagined Ilene Maddox spearheading the campaign.
I remember people who break their word… Sandra tried calling the boardroom a few times, but the shot caller let it ring.
The silence was unsettling, and that might be why Sandra jumped when Neal’s phone rang.
“It’s Detective Birch,” he told everyone, and put the call on speaker. “Everyone’s here, Detective,” he told Eric. “Hit us with some good news, please. We’re in desperate need of some.”
“I’ve got an update on Feeney that you’ll want to hear. I’ll leave it up to you to decide just how good it is.” Eric laid everything out, and as good as it felt to hear his voice, Sandra wished he was coming to them with more. As if he heard her thoughts, he added, “I wish I had more.”
“It’s a start,” Neal said. “It will be good to know what the boyfriend has to say, and get that laptop over, Eric. Or I can send a unit for it.”
“The department’s already spread thin. I’ll bring it over as soon as I can.”
Neal thanked him and ended the call. At least Sandra had one thing to look forward to. Seeing Eric’s face.
“Feeney has money problems and owes a large sum to Founders. That doesn’t seem to be inconsequential considering where we’re at today,” Sandra said. “Is this all about money?”
“I’d say there’s a good chance,” Brice said. “The statement about ‘fat cats lapping up the cream.’ Now we know one of the four perps owes the hospital, maybe the rest do too.”
“But without knowing who she is, anything we talk about is theory and best guess,” Sandra said.
Brice had given them bad news before Eric’s call.
Lakisha Hester from the FBI Science and Technology Branch couldn’t clear up any shots of the mystery woman to run through databases.
A look at CCTV didn’t get them anywhere either.
“Even if this was motivated by money, they’ve already shown themselves capable of violence.” Kreiger gestured toward Luis’s laptop. “And how many people has he shot at this point? Did he hit someone in that room earlier? He’s obviously capable.”
Sandra couldn’t dispute that. No one could.
“But if this is about money, how does it pertain to Megan Beal, the CEO?” Neal asked. “What do they expect her to do for them?”
“The question of the day,” Gibson chimed in.
“And if we’re wrong and this is personal toward Beal, why target her at the time of a meeting? Though, that’s assuming the shot caller was aware she’d be in one,” Neal said.
Those were all good questions, and Sandra could land on one possibility. “Maybe she needs all the hospital power players to fulfill her request.”
“To pardon the debt owed to the hospital,” Monica said.
“Is that something they could do?” Sandra asked Luis.
“Technically I suppose so, but they wouldn’t or it would open the hospital up to this type of terrorism all the time.”
They all fell silent at the emergency director’s words. As much as the policy was valid, it didn’t help the situation.
This may be what the shot caller meant when she said they weren’t listening to her. “We still need more information. I’m going to try the shot caller again.”
“Hold up,” Kreiger said, stopping Sandra’s steps and causing her to turn around. “Didn’t she tell you the last time that if you called again she’d shoot someone? Maybe you’re pushing it here.”
“I need to speak to her if we’re going to shut this thing down.” Sandra resumed walking to her workstation. She couldn’t allow the team coordinator to get into her head. Hostage takers said a lot of things and followed through on less. But she had something she could work with. Carmen Feeney.
Sandra called the phone in the boardroom and waited anxiously as it rang. Just when she thought it was going to hit voicemail, there was an answer.
“Let me guess, this is Sandra with the FBI.” It was the shot caller.
A man yelled out in the background, “Help us.”
“Shut up!” the shot caller roared.
Even with a gun, she was still losing control of the people in that room. “Please, you obviously came here today for a reason. Maybe this is about money. One of your friends who is there with you today, Carmen Feeney, owes the hospital a lot.”
After a few beats, she said, “How do you know about Carmen?”
“We were able to identify her.” That was all that Sandra was disclosing. To tell her that a detective was rooting through Feeney’s life to find a connection to the rest of them wouldn’t be a smart move.
“I told you I’d shoot someone if you called again.”
“You told me you’re prepared to do what you have to do, but killing someone?
I’m not so sure. Your friends aren’t bad people.
” Carmen had said she wasn’t friends with her fellow accomplices, but Sandra hadn’t tried this approach yet with this woman.
They knew for sure that Carmen Feeney didn’t have a criminal record, and it was likely the same carried over for the rest.
The woman remained mute.
Sandra continued. “You can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep, their friends.”
“Who said we’re friends?”
It was a weak protest at best. “You came here today with her. You must trust her and the others.”
Silence.
“Your one friend isn’t so good, though.” Sandra let that dangle there, deciding it was finally an advantageous time to disclose Mickey’s actions.
“What are you talking about?” the woman eventually asked.
“He shot a doctor on the fourth floor. This person is bleeding out and needs treatment.” Sandra held back Maddox’s name intentionally, and she never mentioned the young girl in need of a new heart.
She couldn’t know how this woman would respond.
In a way, the child’s fate was out of her hands, out of her control.
But one of her “friends” had shot someone.
Possibly more than one, another tidbit Sandra didn’t share.
There was ruffling on the other end of the line and sniffling.
Brice wrote on a note, Sounds distressed by this news.
“That wasn’t part of the plan, was it? Someone getting hurt,” Sandra said.
“No. But I told you we would do what we must.”
“Well, he didn’t need to do that. And what he did doesn’t need to affect you. You can still walk away from this.”
“No. I’m not ready to let them off that easy. They need to start listening to me, but it’s like I’m invisible. They don’t see me. I don’t matter to them. Fat cats.” She spat the condemnation.
And that term reared up again. It almost sounded like she’d been brainwashed. “You don’t matter to them?”
“No, I’m just a number like everyone else that comes through those doors.”
“Well, I’m listening to you. Who are you talking to in there? Can you tell me their names?”
“I don’t know all of them. Just Megan Beal and Murray Berkshire.”
Sandra remembered the name from Luis’s recap of the board of directors, but she looked at Gibson. He nodded, seeming to have received the unspoken request she’d want information when she got off the phone. “Could you find out the names of the others in the room?”
“Why?”
“I’d be able to let their families know they are okay. Can I do that?”
“Everyone’s fine. And okay. Say your name, one at a time. You start first,” the woman told those in the room, and Sandra imagined her pointing someone out.
Every name felt like a victory. “That was great…” She allowed time for the woman to volunteer her name, but she didn’t, and Sandra didn’t think it was wise to push her.
“You can trust that I’m going to bat for you, but I’m not going to lie.
Since your friend shot that doctor, it’s getting more difficult to hold ERT back from storming in there.
Can I tell them you’re willing to surrender and come out peacefully? ”
“Pfft. No way. Not until we get what we want.” With that, she hung up.
Sandra had pushed too hard, and it blew up in her face.
“You did your best,” Brice assured her.
“We all know who Megan Beal is, but Murray Berkshire is the CEO of Bright Future LLC,” Gibson said. “The company specializes in oncology drugs, including, but not limited to, chemotherapy drugs.” Gibson updated the board with key takeaways from the call.
Hostages ID’d in boardroom, eighth floor
Special interest in Beal and Berkshire?
HT not confirming nor denying friendships with conspirators, seems to be about money
Sandra was fixated on the two names. “We might have been wrong earlier to think this was only about Megan Beal. The shot caller was ready with Murray Berkshire’s name just as quickly.
Maybe her goal was to get into that boardroom with the two of them.
She would know they’d be there because, as Luis told us, the members are listed on the hospital’s website. ”
“Okay, and those two people could make sense if the shot caller also owes money to the hospital, say, for cancer treatment,” Brice suggested. “She might think Beal can write off her debt while Murray might absorb costs.”
“So she’s running her own negotiation in that boardroom,” Neal said.
“That seems possible,” Sandra admitted. “We all know that chemotherapy isn’t cheap. And we could be looking at someone who had cancer or still does.”
“If that’s the case, she has nothing to lose,” Gibson said.
“Or it’s a relative whose debt passed on to her, as we suspect was the case for Feeney,” Brice inserted.
“So we have a bunch of broke and desperate people in there.” Kreiger pounced to his feet. “None of this has me feeling warm and fuzzy. That woman’s a loose cannon just like the rest of them.”
“We can’t judge the entire lot based on that man on the fourth floor,” Brice pointed out.
“While we’re on the subject…” Sandra returned to Luis. “Is Dr. Maddox still…?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.
One corner of Luis’s laptop screen showed Jordon Maddox lying on the floor. Luis expanded that window to full-size.
The blood pool around Maddox wasn’t getting any bigger, so the tourniquet must be doing its job. That wasn’t enough to ease Sandra’s concern.
Please hang in there a little bit longer…