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She had a white bag in her hand.
“What does she have, Gavin?” Sandra asked.
No response.
“Hurry up!” Gavin yelled, clearly directing this at Gina, but it rang through the phone piercing Sandra’s ears.
Gina continued to pivot her head like an anxious rabbit trying to avoid becoming prey. Then she tore off, upsetting the coffee, and running down the plaza out of his sightline, with the bag still in hand.
Patrick left the command center.
“Fuck!” Gavin cussed.
Richie had received a call and scribbled,SWAT was just cleared for the shot if one opens upon the markerboard.
“Gavin, listen to me. Please. Surrender peacefully. Think about your daughter’s future. Yours.”
“It’s too late for me now. Just get the meds, they’re in that bag, to Cassie.”
“We can still resolve this peacefully.” But she had a sour feeling in her gut. He’d originally said the pharmacist wouldn’t hand them over. Had he since helped himself or had he lied? Was the pharmacist long dead or a casualty of the gunfire? If the latter, he would have been confronting the man again when Gavin’s girlfriend called. Talk about bad timing. “It’s great that you have the meds, but Cassie needs her father too, Gavin.” As she spoke, she saw shadows dance behind the glass of the door, and that meant SWAT would see them. Even better than her, as they’d be equipped with high-powered scopes.
She picked up the employee list and scanned down to the pharmacist. Stanley Moody. His background showed a balding, middle-aged man, married, mid-forties. “Gavin, how did you get the meds?”
“The pharmacist.”
He was keeping his responses short, and she needed more information. “The pharmacist gave you the meds?”
“That’s right.”
“When was this?”
“A while ago.”
Still not definitive enough. “Is Stanley okay, Gavin?” She used his first name only for added familiarity. It would have been the name on his tag.
“I’m not going to talk about Stanley.” He might have used his name, but his voice and tone were cold and detached.
Not good at all. “We have a rapport going, Gavin. You help me helpyou, remember?”
“I didn’t mean to. He was just being so stubborn and wasn’t giving me what I needed. Then Karen called.” He wailed out.
“Did you shoot him, Gavin?” she repeated.
“He’s fine,” Gavin said.
Sandra could feel herself losing hold on the negotiation, and she didn’t like the hesitation any more than his word choice. “Let me talk to Stanley.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Gavin hung up.
Sandra closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wanted to go for a very long run, purge the last six hours and fifteen minutes from her system, and come back recharged. She was considering grabbing some fresh air when Gina Andrews was led inside the command vehicle by Patrick and Bowen.
TWELVE
Sandra took her headset off to talk with Gina. Patrick and Garrison had already offered her a seat at the table. She sat down next to her. “How are you doing?” She needed to drill down to what was going on inside the store, but there was always time for human compassion. In her line of work, it was imperative.
“Holding up.” Gina wiped her cheeks. They were damp from the wet snow that was coming down. “But it’s not good in there.” She faced Sandra, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Is everyone in the lunchroom still?”