Delores Fossen - The Baby's Guardian

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.

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.”