Delores Fossen - The Baby's Guardian

Some women would have stopped there. Some women wouldn’t have continued to press to carry a baby for a dead friend. But she owed Fay. She owed Shaw. And that’s why three months after Fay’s death, Sabrina had pressured Shaw for her to use the embryos that Shaw and she had created. It hadn’t been an easy fight—especially since the embryos were her DNA, not Fay’s. However, in the end Shaw had agreed, probably because he’d been too beaten down by Fay’s death to realize the full impact of having a baby with Sabrina.

Well, he no doubt knew the full impact now.

Sabrina certainly did. Yes, she’d owed Shaw and Fay. She’d owed them this child, but there were consequences for delivering on a promise to a dying friend.

One of those consequences was headed her way. Shaw was walking back toward her. Alone. Bo was going in the other direction, no doubt so he could start handling the aftermath of his wife’s death.

“How’s Bo doing?” she asked the moment Shaw returned.

“How do you think he’s doing?” Shaw snapped, then he cursed under his breath and mumbled something that sounded like an apology.

He still didn’t come in the room with her. But she got his visual attention. Shaw bracketed his hands on both sides of the doorway and stared at her. “Your doctor’s in the building, and she’ll be here any minute.”

“There’s no hurry. I wasn’t injured. I’m not having any cramps or anything.”

“That’s good.” A moment later, he repeated it. “I just got a situation report from one of my sergeants. Still no sign of the gunmen, but we’ll find them.” He was back to sounding professional, as if giving her a briefing.

“Do you need to take my statement now?”

“It can wait until morning. All the interview rooms are already being used.”

Yes. Because there were so many witnesses.

So many victims.

“On the drive over, one of those calls I made was to start the process to get background checks on all the hospital employees, including Michael Frost, the person who phoned you about the emergency meeting,” Shaw continued. “We’ve also gathered all the hostages’ cell phones we can find. They’d been tossed behind the desk in the nurses’ station.”

“Yes. The gunmen took them from us within the first few minutes of the standoff.”

“I figured they had. We’ll check to see if the gunmen used any of them.”

“They had their own phones,” she remembered. “I don’t think they used any of ours. And they didn’t use the hospital phones, either.”

He nodded. “Is it possible one of the hostages was able to use their cell to take a picture of either of the men?”

Sabrina thought about that a moment, forcing herself to mentally return to the chaos that’d happened on that fourth floor. “It’s possible, but I didn’t see it happen. Besides, they wore ski masks the entire time.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt to continue this coplike questioning, but he stopped when his phone buzzed again. No call this time, but a text message. When he read it, Shaw cursed and scrubbed his hand over his face.

Despite the wobbly legs, Sabrina stood. “What’s wrong?”

Shaw put the phone away, and his grip tightened on the doorjamb. “Another of the hostages died—a woman who’d given birth. And one of the newborns is missing. We just issued an Amber Alert.”

“Missing? How? There were only two gunmen, and when they took me from the hospital and to that other building, they didn’t have a baby with them.”

“Maybe they moved the child before they took you. Maybe the baby was already in the vehicle.” The briefing was over, and the raw emotion was coming through his voice. “We don’t have any suspects in custody, and we don’t even have a motive for the crime.”

Maybe it was his stark frustration or maybe it was her exhaustion, but Sabrina was sorry she’d stood. She nearly lost her balance and caught on to the desk to steady herself.

That got Shaw moving. He hurried to her, took her by the arm and put her back in the chair. But he did more than that. He put his hand on her arm, much as he’d done to Bo. And then he looked down at her. However, he didn’t get much further than that look.

There was a knock at the door, and Shaw spun around, obviously grateful for the interruption. Sabrina suddenly felt grateful as well because it was her OB, Dr. Claire Nicholson.

“Sabrina,” the doctor greeted. “I came as quickly as I could.”

“I need to make some calls,” Shaw volunteered, and he headed out after giving the doctor a brief nod.

Dr. Nicholson watched Shaw leave and then eased the door shut. While she opened her medical bag, she studied Sabrina’s face.

“He’s the baby’s father,” the doctor commented. Dr. Nicholson knew that, of course, because she had also been the one to implant the embryos in Sabrina. “He’s worried about you.”

Sabrina nearly laughed. “He’s worried about the baby, that’s all.”

“At this point, it’s nearly impossible to separate mom from the baby. He’s worried about you,” the doctor confirmed and took out the fetoscope, something Sabrina was familiar with. It was a modified stethoscope used to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. The doctor positioned it on her own forehead and motioned for Sabrina to lift her top.

“Any contractions or spotting? “ the doctor asked.

“No. Just some Braxton Hicks.” Thank God. Other than the practice contractions and being jittery and exhausted, she truly was okay. Now, mentally, well, that was a different story.

Sabrina winced a little when the cool plastic-coated metal touched her belly. The doctor moved it around, paused several moments and then smiled.

“That’s a good strong heartbeat.” She pulled off the fetoscope and put it back into the bag. “Of course, I’d like to do an ultrasound, but that can wait a day or two.” She took out a manual blood pressure kit and used it on Sabrina’s arm. “It’s slightly high but considering the circumstances, I’m not surprised. Do you have someone to stay with tonight?”

No. She didn’t. But Sabrina nodded anyway. “I’ll be fine.” It was her standard response, one she’d been saying her entire life, she realized.

Tonight it wasn’t true. She wouldn’t be fine because those gunmen were still out there.

There was a quick knock at the door, and it opened, slowly. Shaw peeked inside. “Everything okay?” Shaw’s attention went right to her and stayed there.

The doctor looked at Sabrina before she answered. “Sabrina and the baby are both fine. In about four weeks, you’ll both have a healthy newborn. But for now, Sabrina needs rest. You can make sure that happens?”

Sabrina got to her feet, to protest Dr. Nicholson dumping this on Shaw, but that’s when she noticed why Shaw was staring at her. Her top was still bunched up, and her pregnant belly was bare. She quickly righted her top.

“Rest,” the doctor ordered Sabrina, and she stepped around Shaw so she could leave.

“You don’t need to keep checking on me,” Sabrina insisted.

“I’ve already arranged a hotel room for you,” Shaw let her know. He glanced again at her now-covered belly and swallowed hard. “Does it hurt?”

Sabrina shook her head. “Does what hurt?”

“The baby, when it kicks.”

“Oh. No. Not really.” She shrugged, puzzled by the abrupt change of subject. “Well, unless she connects with my kidney or something.”

Shaw’s left eyebrow shot up. “She?”

Sabrina shook her head even harder. “I don’t know the baby’s sex. I wanted to keep it a surprise. She just sounds better than it.”

“Right.” He stepped to the side. “Come on. I’ll get you to the hotel.”

Since this was already more than awkward, Sabrina didn’t argue, but as soon as Shaw had her stashed away at the hotel, she would insist that he leave. If he felt forced to spend time with her, it would only make him hate her more.

“Thank you,” she told him. She walked out of the office ahead of him, but there was someone waiting outside the door. It was a lanky built cop wearing a crisp blue uniform.

Shaw groaned softly, probably because there was a look of concern on the man’s face. “More bad news, Officer Newell?”

He handed Shaw several sheets of paper that had been stapled together. “That’s the preliminary background checks you asked for on the hospital employees. Oh, and a guy keeps calling here, asking to speak to Ms. Carr. He said his name is Gavin Cunningham.”

Shaw looked up from the papers he’d just received and turned to Sabrina, obviously wanting an explanation. Was it her imagination or did he seem a little jealous that another man would be phoning her? But she rethought that.

Shaw could never be jealous of her.

“Gavin Cunningham’s a client,” she explained to the other officer. “And yes, he’s persistent. I’m head of an organization called Rootsfind that helps adopted and foster kids locate their biological families, and he wants me to help him find his father. Please tell him I’ll call him in a day or two.”

“I already told him you weren’t available, but he said it was a matter of life or death.”

Sabrina and Shaw had already started to walk away, but that stopped them. Shaw stared at her, apparently waiting for an answer.

But Sabrina didn’t have one. “Gavin called yesterday and sounded frantic and stressed. He said that he needed me to find his father immediately. He wanted to meet with me right then, but I had other appointments. I told him I’d see him today. That obviously didn’t happen because I was taken hostage.”

“Well, he asked me to give you his number, just in case you’d forgotten it.” The officer reached in his pocket and extracted a notepad-sized piece of paper with the number on it.

“Thanks. I’ll call him on the way to the hotel.”

“You think it’s that critical to call him back tonight? Because it can wait,” Shaw added, not giving her a chance to answer. He nudged her to get her moving and continued to read the papers the officer had given him. “Unless you think it’s possible this client is suicidal?”

Sabrina gave that some thought. “I didn’t see any warning signs that he’s contemplating suicide.”

“Right,” he mumbled.

She didn’t miss the accusing tone. Shaw seemed to be saying— as if you’d recognize those warning signs. She certainly hadn’t with Fay. “He’s just a little more obsessed than most about finding his father.”

Sabrina knew something about that, as well. Since she’d been adopted at birth, she’d spent most of her life looking for her biological parents. She’d failed. And it was the reason she had created Rootsfind. Sometimes, the desire to find those DNA roots just burned hotter in some people.

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