Delores Fossen - The Baby's Guardian

“Find them!” Shaw ordered after he got his teeth unclenched.

He pulled Sabrina to her feet so he could get her moving. The sooner he had her away from the building, the better.

Even though she was obviously slowed because of the pregnancy, she hurried, keeping up right along with him, but she was breathing hard again by the time he got her into the backseat of the cruiser. The driver, a uniformed officer, drove away.

“Ms. Carr will need to go to a hospital,” Shaw instructed the driver.

She didn’t protest. Which wasn’t a good sign. Since Sabrina often protested any-and everything he suggested.

Did that mean she was hurt?

While the driver meandered his way through the deserted downtown streets, Shaw called Harris, the hostage negotiator, for a situation report from the maternity hospital. It took a while—four rings—before Harris answered, and the moment Shaw heard the strain in the man’s voice, he knew this conversation wasn’t going to be good.

“The fire’s out,” Harris started. “It wasn’t much of one. The gunmen lit some damp papers, and that created more smoke than fire.”

And they’d used that smoke to escape. “Casualties?” Shaw asked, dreading the answer.

“Four so far.”

Shaw cursed. “Not one of the babies?”

“No, they all seem to be fine, but we have doctors on the way to check them all out,” Harris answered quickly, and then hesitated. “Three of the dead were on the medical staff here. The other was a patient. She died just a few minutes ago.” Another pause. “It was Nadine Duggan.”

Ah, hell.

The lieutenant’s wife. A cop’s wife. Shaw had to take a deep breath, but that didn’t stop the jolt from the memories of the night his wife had died.

“Nadine was nine months pregnant,” Shaw said. He didn’t dare look at Sabrina, but he was aware that she was sobbing now. She’d obviously heard what Harris had said. “What happened to her child?”

“They’re alive. Twins, a boy and a girl,” Harris added in a hoarse whisper. “Bo’s taking this pretty hard.”

Of course he was. Bo loved his wife, and what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their lives—the birth of their children—had turned into a nightmare.

“We have another patient clinging to life,” Harris continued. “I don’t think she’s going to make it so we have someone tracking down her next of kin. Another woman is in critical condition. Both of them delivered babies during the standoff.”

And this might be just the tip of the iceberg. His men had been in that building less than forty-five minutes. God knew what they would find when they searched every nook and cranny. The death and injury toll might skyrocket.

“Sabrina said some of the women hid,” Shaw told Harris. “Some might be too scared to come out. You’ll need to look for them.”

“Of course. We’ll go through the place room by room. How is Sabrina? Did you find her?”

Shaw had to clear his throat before he could speak. “I found her. She’s safe.” And because he needed to focus on the job, he checked his watch. “I’m dropping her off with a uniformed officer at the hospital on San Pedro, and then I can join you on scene.”

“Good. Because we can use all the help we can get.” “Nadine’s dead?” Sabrina asked the moment Shaw ended the call.

He settled for a nod.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth, but he still heard the sob. Shaw wasn’t sure how well she knew Nadine, but they’d obviously met and chatted in that hospital support group. Plus, Sabrina was no doubt thinking that it could have been her who’d ended up dead.

Shaw was certainly thinking it.

Because Sabrina’s sobs were getting louder, he felt he had to do something. Anything. Even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it.

Shaw slipped his arm around her, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. He expected the contact to feel foreign and uncomfortable. It did.

It also felt comforting.

She was soft and warm and practically melted against him so Shaw just sat there and let her cry it out. By the time the driver stopped in front of the hospital, he felt raw and drained, and figured that was minor compared to what Sabrina was feeling.

His phone buzzed again, and he flipped it open. Not Harris with reports of more deaths or injuries. This call was from Rivera, the SWAT commander.

“Tell me you have good news,” Shaw greeted the man.

But there was only a long heavy moment of silence. “Sorry. We’ve gone through the abandoned office building, every inch of it, and the gunmen aren’t here.”

“What?” Shaw snarled. Beside him, Sabrina practically snapped to attention.

“We think they escaped through the basement. We didn’t even know there was a basement because there are no marked stairs leading into that area. When we got down there, we found a single small window. Open.”

“And no one saw two armed men coming out through that window?”

“No, sir. It was on the south side of the building where there are heavy shrubs, and they might have slipped into those and used them as cover so they could get away.”

Hell! This was not supposed to happen. “Those men are killers. We have four DBs on our hands back at the hospital, and two more might soon join the list.”

“I understand. These are very dangerous men. We’re searching the area now, and I’m bringing in more officers.”

“Do that. Do whatever it takes.” Shaw slammed his phone shut and cursed.

“They got away,” Sabrina mumbled. “They got away.” And she continued to repeat it. The more she said it, the closer she sounded to getting hysterical.

And Shaw knew why.

“Drive to the precinct now,” Shaw ordered the driver. “Ms. Carr can see the doctor there.”

He had to get Sabrina to safety and put her in protective custody. Because those gunmen would try to eliminate any and all witnesses.

And that meant they would come after Sabrina to finish what they had started.

“You can wait in my office,” Shaw said to her the moment Sabrina came out of the ladies’ room.

He motioned for her to follow him down the glossy tiled corridor that was lined with fallen officers’ photos and department commendations.

His voice sounded so professional. So detached. And Sabrina couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t touch her. He hadn’t since they were in the car driving away from that building where Shaw had rescued her. From the moment they’d stepped out of the vehicle and into SAPD headquarters, he’d kept at least several inches of distance between them.

“Thank you, for everything,” she managed to say, though she didn’t know how. Her mouth was trembling, and the words came out shaky, as well.

When Shaw finally stopped walking and pointed to the open room, Sabrina stepped into the large office with an ornate desk nameplate that had Captain Shaw Tolbert scrolled on it. The nameplate and the office were reminders that Shaw was an important man in SAPD. A leader.

And he had better things to do than babysit her.

“While you were in the bathroom, I had some food brought in for you,” Shaw explained. He tipped his head to the bottle of water and wrapped sandwich that had come from a vending machine. “Yeah, I know it’s not very appetizing, but I figured you’d be hungry and dehydrated.”

“The gunmen gave us water,” she mumbled.

No food, though. Despite not having eaten for about ten hours, she wasn’t hungry, but she sat in the leather chair next to his desk and opened the water and sandwich anyway. Both tasted like dust. But she continued to eat because the baby needed this.

“Did the gunmen hurt you, physically?” he asked.

She lifted her wrist so he could see the marks. “Just a bruise or two from where one of them grabbed me. That was the peppermint guy who did that. He chewed on breath mints during most of the standoff, and he threw some of the wrappers on the floor.”

Shaw took out a notepad from his desk and jotted that down.

“Do you need to bag my clothes so you can check for fibers or anything?” she asked.

“I’ll get them later. For now, just eat.” Shaw took out his phone and asked whomever he called for a situation report.

While he listened to that report, Shaw stood there so stoically. He looked the ultimate professional. And for just a second, she was reminded of the first time she’d seen him at a fundraiser dinner nearly eight years ago. She and Fay had gone with dates, but the minute they’d spotted the “hot cop” as Fay had called him, they’d both flirted with him.

Shaw had flirted back.

He truly had been a hot cop. Still was, she reluctantly admitted. With his classic good looks all mixed together with a touch of bad boy, he was every woman’s fantasy.

More than a little tipsy that night eight years ago, Fay and she had drawn cocktails straws for dibs on who would go after him. Fay had won. But even after all this time, Sabrina couldn’t help but wonder what her life would be like if she hadn’t drawn the short straw that night.

“Your doctor’s on the way,” Shaw let her know, ending the call.

He didn’t come back into his office. He stood in the doorway but fired glances all around. Probably because the headquarters building was buzzing with activity from the hostage situation, and he was trying to keep abreast of what was going on. Or maybe because he didn’t want to be too close to her. Nadine Duggan’s death was likely bringing back memories. Bad memories. Of Fay.

And of Sabrina.

“Go ahead. You can leave.” Sabrina tried to make it sound like an order. She took another bite of the sandwich. “I’ll be fine.”

That was a lie. He knew it. So did she. But Shaw still turned and walked away.

“I have to see someone for a minute,” he said from over his shoulder.

Sabrina soon saw the reason for his quick exit. Along with several other officers, Lieutenant Bo Duggan was just up the hall, and Shaw went to them.

She watched them through the open doorway, but she couldn’t hear their conversation. She didn’t need to. Shaw laid his hand on Bo’s arm and no doubt offered words of sympathy, something that Shaw knew all about. He was almost certainly remembering Fay’s death.

Sabrina remembered it, too.

Bo’s wife had died under perhaps violent circumstances, or at least terrifying ones while being a hostage by those gunmen. Fay had chosen her own death. Well, her depression had chosen it for her anyway. Still, the final result was the death of a loved one.

“You shouldn’t have gone off your antidepressants,” Sabrina mumbled to Fay, who, of course, could no longer hear her.

Sabrina had said the same words to her while Fay had been alive. Fay hadn’t listened—because the antidepressants couldn’t be taken with the meds necessary for Fay to harvest her eggs for the in vitro procedure for the surrogate. And that surrogate was none other than Sabrina since Fay couldn’t carry a child.

A baby at any cost, Fay had said.

Sabrina had argued with her, had even considered telling her best friend that the surrogacy offer was off the table so that Fay would go back on her meds. But Fay hadn’t listened to that, either. Sabrina had lost the argument.

Fay had gone through with the harvesting, only to learn that none of her eggs was viable. That’s when Sabrina had volunteered to use her own eggs. Shaw had agreed, reluctantly, and only to appease Fay, but there hadn’t been time to finish what they started. Because of the long-term effect of going without her meds, Fay had taken her own life before Sabrina could get pregnant.