Page 14 of Save Her Life (Sandra Vos #1)

THIRTEEN

Sandra’s strides ate up the sidewalk as she jogged along the Potomac River through Georgetown Waterfront Park. She inhaled the morning air, though she’d gotten a later start than she normally did due to last night. It was eleven AM and most people in the city were at work, set up behind their desks in their corporate offices. She was lucky to be outside and moving.

Her doctor recommended she do something else for exercise “at her age,” but she refused to accept that advice. She was in great physical shape, and there wasn’t a history of joint trouble in her family tree. It wouldn’t matter if there was though. Running was her meditation. Fresh air, moving, and breath expanding her lungs. Not only did the exercise revive her body and mind, it fed her soul. Out here, on the path, she was in her own world, left to her own thoughts. And with her line of work, with her past, she had to do something to keep the demons at bay.

He’s gone, Sandy. Sam’s gone… The thought fired through her mind, and she ticked up her speed. Her darkest memories often rose up and regurgitated old feelings for her to observe and heal. She expected the flashbacks would be worse after yesterday. Not just because of what she had done but the ensuing uncertainty while waiting for the verdict on Darrell Patton’s parole request to come through.

Images and recollections had hit after she tucked herself into bed last night, chasing off sleep. The standard endorphin rush that lingered after a negotiation had left her system, but her mind remained awake, molested, and churning. She’d had to stare into the face of the man who had sentenced her brother to death. His bullet, fired from his gun. The intent, the carelessness… Her loss. The entire world’s really. Her brother was a bright light who would have changed things for the better, if only he’d been given a chance.

They said there was nothing they could do…

She clenched her teeth and pushed herself even harder, feeling the burning in her thighs and calves and sinking into it. Her heart was holding a fast, steady rhythm, and a quick peek at her smartwatch confirmed she was in the sweet spot of her cardio zone. But even here in this euphoric state, the recollections wedged in.

She had felt his life leave his body. It was seven o’clock in the evening, and she had been out at the mall with her friends. Sirens had penetrated the corridors an hour earlier. Even then, she somehow knew something was wrong.

“Sandra?” My friend Lisa turns to me. “You look like crap. Are you okay?”

I can’t find my voice. My chest is so heavy, and my stomach is clenching. “I need to… to call home.”

“Okay…”

Sandra ran past a mother pushing a baby in a stroller and dipped her head, before buckling down and pushing harder yet.

I call home on the nearest payphone. Reynold, the Davenports’ major-domo, answers. “Is Sam there?”

“No, miss, he’s out for dinner tonight with his friends. Do you wish that I leave a message for him?”

I shake my head but quickly realize Reynold wouldn’t have seen me. “No. Do you know where he went?”

“Romano’s Pizzeria.”

That is only a few blocks away. The sirens that had rung through the corridors and hallways of the mall… Were they for Sam? I’m going to be sick…

“Miss?”

I hang up and run from the mall. Police have the pizza joint surrounded and cordoned off.

Hours later, my horrible premonition is proven true.

Sam, my twin brother, is dead.

He was the only casualty that day.

Her exhales became heavier, creating clouds of white in the cool air. If only she had heeded that earlier feeling, could she have done something to change his fate? It was a question she revisited repeatedly and always landed in the same spot. There was nothing that she could have done. No warning signs, rendering her powerless to prevent his death. It was too late the second that bullet had entered his chest. If only Patton had surrendered sooner, maybe her brother would be running next to her now. Though that thought made her smile. There was no way. As much as he loved sports, he’d hated running.

Her smartwatch beeped, alerting her to the fact her heart rate was too high. She slowed her pace. Her brother was long gone but always with her. Not only was he in her mind, heart, and soul, and the pendant she wore, but he was by her side every day she did her job. Every time she helped hostages walk away. And while she should take consolation from the fact the majority survived yesterday’s ordeal, the fallen weighed heavily on her.

Stanley Moody, the pharmacist, had left behind a wife and two children. That poor family would be burying their beloved husband and father. Was there something more she could have done or said that would have altered the course of events or make it so he was still alive?

The security guard had walked away unscathed, and when the final word reached her, she had the full story. When denied the medication, Gavin had instantly become agitated and started to threaten the pharmacist. He escalated to physical threats when the verbal ones were ineffective and pretended to have a gun in his pocket. At that point, the security guard showed up. Gavin grabbed a woman near him and said he’d shoot her if the guard didn’t relinquish his gun. He complied, and Gavin seized the weapon and had everyone gather in the middle of the store. He’d locked the door, and surprisingly no one got away before he shut the place down.

She’d replayed the incident in her dreams when she eventually fell into a restless sleep. She didn’t always get the complete background, but it felt like closure when she did. But none of this made her immune to feeling the loved ones’ grief. And maybe that was because she let herself get too close by seeing people for who they really were. But this empathy was also a strength, letting her view things from perspectives other than her own. This ability might have been sharpened by her own loss. They say there is a blessing in everything, and while it’s hard to see in the face of grief, it’s easier to discern when the clouds start to clear.

She also learned that life could change in an instant and not to take a single moment for granted. Something she was reminded of every time she was called in for crisis negotiation.

Her phone rang, and she stopped running and slowly jogged in place. It was her boss.

“Hello.” She’d save the professional greeting. He knew who he was calling.

“Good afternoon.”

“Not quite but getting closer.” She smiled. Being precise was hardwired. Another aspect of her personality that was well suited to the job.

“I meant it as sarcasm. You know what? Never mind. Are we going to see you at the office today?”

“You bet.”

“And when would that be?”

She looked at her smartwatch. Eleven thirty now, so… “In an hour.” She’d head home, shower, grab a bite to eat, and get to the field office.

“All right, well, I’m starting the stopwatch now.”

Either he was making a poor attempt at playing a micro manager, or it was a testament to her punctuality. She said an hour, it would be an hour. Not a minute more. Not one less.

“I got a call routed to me from the front desk. They were looking for you but…”

Sandra stopped jogging in place and held her breath, waiting for him to finish that sentence. The assistant director had a bad habit of starting to say something and letting it dangle out there. “Who was it? Is there a message?”

“A man named Joshua Cobb.”

“The husband of the pregnant woman.”

“That’s right.”

“What did he have to say? Is she okay? The baby?” Don’t tell me they didn’t make it…

“Both are fine.” His smile traveled over the line. “It was a girl, five pounds, three ounces. They named her Gina. The way the father announced it, I got the impression that name might mean something to you. Does it?”

Sandra grinned, her gaze going over the Potomac. “It was the nurse who was by Megan Cobb’s side and saw her through things on the inside.”

“All mushy stuff. Well, this Joshua wanted me to thank you for what you did.”

“I just did my job.”

“It’s far more than that, Vos. You saved people last night.”

This morning… technically… She’d let him have this one. “Just doing what I was trained to do.”

“And the world thanks you. Now, get your butt in here.”

“Yes, sir.” She ended the call. Her boss was many things, but conventional wasn’t one of them. At least he let his guard down with her on occasion.

She turned around to head home and had a near miss with a tall man and his oversized fluffy dog. She hoped to never be grilled on canine breeds. She was more of a cat person. “Sorry,” she called out, but kept moving.

When she got to her building, the concierge saw her through the glass and opened the door for her. “Thanks, Earl.”

“Don’t mention it, Ms. Vos.” The older man dipped his head. “Good day.”

“And to you.” She headed to the elevator bank to take it to the penthouse. There were days she could hardly believe this was her life and she planned to never take her blessings for granted.