The Baby's Guardian (2 page)

If not, well, the night was just starting.

“Smoke!” Harris shouted.

Shaw looked in the direction of Harris’s pointing finger. Oh, mercy.

What now?

It was smoke all right, and it was coming from a window on the fourth floor where the hostages were.

There was a fire engine standing by, and Shaw motioned for it to get in place. It was a huge risk. The gunmen might not come down to the car if they saw the fire department responding, but Shaw couldn’t take the chance of leaving those hostages trapped on the floor with a raging fire.

“The hospital has an overhead sprinkler system,” Harris reminded him.

But no one needed to remind Shaw that the gunmen could have disabled it. God knows what smoke and fire would do to all those babies in the newborn unit. He had to get them help immediately, even if it meant the gunmen might get away.

“Where are they?” Shaw mumbled, watching the front door.

The fire engine darted across the street and stopped at the side of the building. They immediately retrieved the ladder so they could scurry up the four floors. It was a start, but Shaw needed to get others inside so he could speed up the evacuation. In addition to the babies, there might be patients who couldn’t get out on their own.

The passing seconds pounded in his head, and at least a minute went by with no sign of the gunmen or the hostage that they claimed they would have with them.

Gray coils of smoke made their way down to them. Soon, very soon, it would obstruct their view. And maybe that’s what the gunmen had intended.

Shaw grabbed the binoculars again and checked out the front windows on the fourth floor. He could see the
overhead sprinklers spewing out water. He could also see people running. Women. Some of them pregnant. Some of them carrying babies bundled in blankets.

He couldn’t delay this any longer. He had to move now.

Shaw was about to give the signal when he heard the voice on the hand-sized scanner clipped to his belt. It was Lieutenant Bo Duggan, the officer who was positioned on the west side of the building.

“The fire’s a smokescreen!” Bo shouted. “The gunmen just left through the side door and got into a white SUV with heavy tint on the windows. I can’t see the license plate number—it had mud or something covering it—and they’re moving out of the parking lot now.”

Hell.

“Shaw?” Bo said. “We couldn’t shoot at them because they have a hostage. It’s Sabrina Carr.”

Shaw’s stomach knotted, but he forced back the avalanche of emotion and dread. “Take over the evacuation,” he ordered Bo. “Get everyone out of there.” He turned to Harris. “You get in there, too. Take every available man.” Shaw turned to run toward his squad car.

“Where are you going?” Harris shouted.

“After the gunmen.”

And every second counted.

Shaw had already lost his wife, and by God he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to his baby.

Sabrina forced herself to stay calm.

It was nearly impossible to do that because there was a gun jammed against her head, and one of the ski-mask-wearing kidnappers shoved her into the backseat of an SUV. The other got behind the wheel and sped out of the parking lot.

There were plenty of officers nearby, all with guns aimed, but none of them fired a shot. Probably because they hadn’t wanted to risk wounding her and the baby. Sabrina was thankful for that, but she wondered if she’d just gone from the frying pan into the fire.

Her heart was racing, and it was so loud in her ears that it was hard for her to hear, but she thought she might have heard one of the officers shout. Maybe that meant someone would follow them because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get herself out of this without help.

She glanced behind her at the hospital. The building was engulfed in milky gray smoke, but she could still see even more cops. Some armed with rifles were on top of the surrounding buildings.

Shaw was out there, too.

Sabrina had seen him from the window. He’d been
standing among all the officers assembled to respond to the hostage situation. And even though Shaw had been so far away when she stepped into view, she had been able to make out his expression when he realized she was a hostage. That wasn’t fear on his face. More like anger.

Or even disgust.

He was probably thinking she’d screwed up again.

And in a way, she had.

The gunman-driver made a sharp left turn and sent her sliding toward the door. Her captor hauled her right back so he could keep her in a close, firm grip against his side. She wanted to punch him for what he was doing.

For what he’d done back at the hospital.

Sabrina had seen him shoot an unarmed lab tech who was hardly more than a kid. He’d used a gun rigged with a silencer for that deadly assault, and the shot had hardly made a sound. It made her wonder how many others had been killed in a silent hush.

And why?

Why
would be the biggest question of all.

Was it connected to the call from the nurse, Michael Frost, that she’d gotten earlier? The call that sent her to the hospital in the first place?

Maybe.

But for now, her focus had to be on survival. The cops were no doubt following them, and she had to believe they would launch a rescue. She also had to believe they would succeed. Sabrina couldn’t even consider an alterative, not with her baby’s safety at stake.

She looked up at the street signs, trying to memorize
them just in case she got the opportunity to tell someone where she was, but the gunman must have noticed what she was doing because he shoved her down onto the seat.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he snarled. He stank of sweat, onion chips from the hospital vending machine and the peppermint breath mints that he’d sucked on throughout the standoff.

Sabrina would remember that sickening scent. That raspy voice. Those dull brown eyes that were flat, like a man on the job rather than one on a personal mission.

He was almost certainly a hired killer.

And when this was over, she would make sure he and his partner were punished for this havoc they had caused. All those women and babies had been put through a nightmare, and it wasn’t over. Not for her, not for them. They would have to deal with the terrifying memories forever.

Something that Sabrina already knew too much about.

“We lost the cops,” the driver announced.

That didn’t help with the fear or the dread. But he could be wrong.
He had to be wrong.

The driver slowed to a crawl, and several seconds later, the car came to a stop. In a dark alley. Oh, God.

Sabrina tried not to think of what could happen here. She didn’t think these men had rape or assault on their minds, but they wouldn’t hesitate to use her as a human shield when the cops arrived.

“Move fast,” the gunman ordered, and he threw open the door and pushed her out into the alley.

“Right,” she grumbled. Fast wasn’t possible for her these days.

She didn’t see any other cars or people. Definitely no cops. And her heartbeat grew significantly harder and faster. God. Had the driver been right about SAPD not being able to follow her? Had the gunmen made a clean getaway?

The gunman latched on to her arm and dragged her into the adjacent building. It was dark, musky and hot. No AC. Not even a trickle of fresh air. No furniture, either. From what Sabrina could see in the shadows, it was an abandoned office building, and judging from the distance they’d driven, they were somewhere in the downtown area of San Antonio. Not a good part, either.

“Lock the door,” the gunman told his partner. “I’ll tie her up. But don’t make the call until you’re out of her earshot. No sense broadcasting what’s going on.”

The man didn’t take her to a room near the door but to one about midway down the long tiled corridor. He shoved his gun into the back waist of his pants so he could use both hands to snag her wrists.

Sabrina knew what was coming.

She’d already seen him tie up members of the hospital staff and some of the patients. He took two thin plastic handcuffs from his pocket and looped one around her wrists. The other, he hooked through the first so that it chained her to the doorknob. The plastic cuffs might be cheap, but they were extremely effective. They would hold her in place until…but Sabrina didn’t want to think beyond that.

She would get out of this before they managed to take her out of the city and to God knows where.

She needed a miracle.

The man reached down and pulled off her sandals. “In case you figure out how to get out of those cuffs, there’s broken glass on the floor. It’ll slice your feet to shreds,” he snarled and went down the hall with her shoes dangling in his hand.

Being shoeless wouldn’t stop her, either. Sabrina looked around the dark room, praying there was something she could use to cut the tough plastic. Maybe a piece of the glass he’d mentioned. It was there, all right. Beer bottles had been shattered, but none of the pieces was close enough for her to reach.

There were only threads of light coming from the single window on the center wall. The glass panes were coated with grime and taped yellowing newspapers that practically blocked off illumination from the nearby streetlights. But it allowed her to see just enough to realize there was nothing she could use as a cutter. With the exception of the broken glass and some trash on the floor, the room was empty.

Inside her, the baby began to kick, hard. Probably to protest her cramped sitting position. Sabrina shifted, trying to get more comfortable, but that was impossible on a hard tile floor.

Up the hall, she heard the peppermint-popping gunman say something, and she wiggled closer to the doorway in the hopes that she could hear and see what was going on. The men had apparently stepped into one of the other rooms because they were nowhere in sight,
but she did get bits and pieces of their softly spoken conversation.

“Tolbert,” one of them said.

That grabbed her attention. They were talking about Shaw. Sabrina tried to wriggle even closer though the plastic cuffs were digging into her wrists.

“It’ll work.” That was from the gunman who’d driven them away from the hospital. He was whispering as if he wanted to ensure she didn’t hear what he was saying, but the empty building carried the sound. “We can use her to get Tolbert to cooperate in case something else turns up.”

Oh, God. They were going to use her to force Shaw to do something. But cooperate with what?

All of this had to be connected to the hostage mess that’d just gone on in the hospital, but Sabrina was clueless as to why she and the others had been terrorized all those hours.

What did any of this have to do with Shaw?

The men didn’t know she was carrying Shaw’s child. Or did they? It certainly wasn’t in her medical records, but they had seen that she had listed Shaw as the person to contact in case there was an emergency. Maybe the men thought she and Shaw were lovers.

As if.

Shaw hated her with a passion. And this situation was only going to make him hate her more. Once again, she’d brought danger to someone he loved. This time, the danger was aimed at his unborn child. He would never forgive her for placing the baby at risk.

Of course, Sabrina wouldn’t forgive herself, either.

Had that call she’d received all been a hoax? Something designed to get her into the hospital?

If so, then her abduction wasn’t a spur of the minute thing as she’d originally believed. She might have been their target all along, and she hadn’t even questioned the call. She’d blindly responded to the request and had walked right into a hornet’s nest.

The minute she’d stepped off that fourth floor elevator, one of the men had aimed a gun at her and then corralled her into the hall where they were already holding several dozen hostages. Sabrina wouldn’t forget their faces. The fear. The overwhelming feeling of doom.

“The car’ll be here in ten minutes,” she heard one of her captors say. “Go ahead, give her back the shoes. I want us to be ready to roll.”

Ten minutes. Not much time at all. And judging from their other conversation, they’d be taking her with them. If that happened, they might kill her once they had what they wanted. Because of the ski masks, she hadn’t seen their faces, but she did know details about them. She was a loose end and a dangerous one.

The man appeared again, his ski mask still in place, and he carefully placed the shoes on the floor beside her. When she didn’t move to slip them on, he cursed at her, shoved them on her feet and walked away.

She waited until he was out of sight before she fought with the plastic cuffs again. No luck. So, she decided to try to chew her way through them, though she knew that would be next to impossible. The cuffs were designed to prevent such an escape. Still, she had to try. Those ten minutes were already ticking off.

There was a sound. Just a slight bump. It didn’t come from the men up the hall but from the window.

Someone was outside.

Sabrina chewed even harder on the cuff, while she kept watch up the hall and at the shadowy figure on the other side of that murky glass.

There was a soft pop. And the window eased open. She got a good look at the dark-haired man then.

It was Shaw.

Relief flooded through her entire body. He’d come for her. Well, he’d come for the baby anyway. Now the question was, could he get them safely out of there?

Shaw glanced around the room and put his index finger to his mouth in a stay-quiet gesture. Sabrina quit struggling with the plastic cuffs and tipped her head toward the men up the hall.

“There are two of them,” she mouthed, and in case Shaw hadn’t heard, she held up two fingers.

Shaw nodded, climbed through the window, swung his legs over the sill and quietly placed his feet on the floor. He had his standard-issue Glock ready in his right hand, and he lifted it, aiming it at the door. If her captors heard Shaw’s entrance, they would no doubt come running.

But they didn’t.

The men continued to talk, and Shaw used the sound of their muffled voices to cover his footsteps as he made his way across the dusty floor toward her. Shattered glass crunched softly under his feet. He spared her a glance.

Barely.

That was normal. Shaw never looked in her eyes,
which was probably a good thing. Even something as simple as eye contact between them brought back the painful memories of Fay’s death. But Sabrina knew that his eyes were multiple shades of blue. Cool and piercing when he was in a good mood. Dark and stormy when he was wasn’t.

She didn’t have to guess the intensity level tonight.

With his attention fastened to the hall and doorway, Shaw reached in his pocket, brought out a small knife and used it to slice through the plastic. He didn’t waste a second; he took her arm, got her to her feet and eased her behind him. His hand brushed against her stomach. An accident for sure.

Like eye contact, touching was out, too.

Shaw motioned toward the window. “You think you can climb out?” he whispered.

Sabrina glanced down at her megapregnant belly and then at the window. It’d be a tight squeeze, but the alternative was going out into the hall and then trying to make their way through a locked door at the end. That was far riskier than the window.

She nodded, and he maneuvered her behind him while he continued to face the door.

Shaw leaned closer and put his mouth to her ear. No peppermint and sweat smell for him. She took in the scent of his starched white shirt, the leather of his boots and the woodsy aftershave he favored. Not that he would have shaved recently. He had dark desperado stubble on his chin, but a hint of the aftershave was still there.

“Once we’re outside and away from the scene, SWAT will storm the building,” Shaw whispered.

Good. This had to end, and she didn’t want those gunmen to be able to hurt anyone else.

Thankful that she was wearing shorts so she could maneuver better, Sabrina somehow managed to get her leg onto the sill. But then, she heard the footsteps in the hall.

Oh, no. One of the gunmen was coming.

Sabrina tried to hurry, but Shaw clamped on to her arm to stop her from moving. Without the sound of her rustling, the room fell silent.

So did the footsteps.

They waited there. Listening. Sabrina prayed the men wouldn’t come closer. The last thing she wanted was a gun battle where the baby could be hurt. Obviously, Shaw felt the same because he moved protectively in front of her. Close. With his back right against her front.

As a cop, he’d perhaps been in situations similar to this where his life was on the line, but this whole ordeal was a first for her, and Sabrina hoped she didn’t lose it. Falling apart wouldn’t get them out of there, and it wouldn’t help the baby.

“Call him back,” the gunman finally said. It was the peppermint guy. “I’m getting a weird feeling about being here. We need to get out now.”

With her breath stalled in her lungs, Sabrina stayed still, and she finally heard what she prayed she would hear. The gunman went back down the hall away from them. At least she hoped that’s what he’d done.