the gunshot, the pain. Someone holding my hand? Then waking up here.” Another pause. “Where’s Brianne? Please tell me I stopped her.”
Silence.
A sob. “No, oh no.”
Wetness on her cheeks startled Sarah and she raised a hand to swipe away the tears. Gavin rubbed her arm and she realized how grateful she was for his presence. He was sticking close because he cared. He’d always cared.
Her phone vibrated and she snatched it from her pocket. Her father? Calling her? A quick rage swept through her and she disconnected the call. Hesitated a fraction of a second, then blocked his number.
She tuned back in to hear Michelle say, “. . . she really did it?”
“I’m so sorry,” Detective Bancroft said.
“This is so unreal.”
“Mrs. Nelson,” Detective Attwood said, “do you know a man by the name of Sam Wilmont?”
“No.” Sniff. “Why?”
“He was in Brianne’s house,” Caden said, “when my sister and a friend went to see her. He said he was there to deliver some medicine Brianne had left at the hospital.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of him and I don’t remember him being there before everything happened.” She sighed. “I’m sorry . . .”
“Looks like she’s dropped off back to sleep.” Sarah thought it was the older woman’s voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Detective Attwood said, “we got a lot of what we needed to know.”
Like it was highly likely that Wilmont was telling the truth and he didn’t shoot the women.
An alarm shattered the muted atmosphere and Sarah jumped away from the door. Gavin’s hand gripped hers.
“That’s the fire alarm,” he shouted in her ear.
She pointed to the vent in the hallway. “And there’s the smoke!”
A panicked yell ripped past Sarah’s ear over the wail of the alarm, and she turned to see a young woman on the floor and people stepping over her in their rush to get to the exit. A security guard burst onto the scene from the stairwell. He held a cloth to his face and nose. “Everyone calm down! We’ve got a fire in the air-conditioning and heating room, so some floors are going to get a little smoky,” he said. “We need to evacuate this floor, but we’ll do it calmly. The last thing we need is more patients. Everyone who can do the stairs, head that way. And walk, please!”
Patients and visitors flooded the hallways as smoke continued to pour from the vents.
Sarah hesitated, checked that someone had helped the fallen woman up, turned back to the room that held Caden.
Gavin gripped her hand and leaned close to her ear. “Caden will get out. He’d want me to make sure you’re okay. I’m no firefighter, but I’ve worked with a lot of them. If the fire is in the heating and air-conditioning room, the whole hospital is going to fill up with smoke and have to be evacuated.”
Someone bumped into her with a hurried “Excuse me.” She stepped to the side and found herself next to the nurses’ station. “Then why say it’s just these floors?”
“To keep people from panicking.”
“Doesn’t look like it’s working.” People crowded together in a mad rush to get to the exit.
“They’re trained for this kind of thing. I want to get you out of here.”
Sarah pulled away from Gavin. “Not until I check on Caden.”
She headed toward the room when Caden’s head popped out and his gaze homed in on her. Gavin waved that he was with her and Caden disappeared back into the room.
“Come on,” Gavin said, steering her toward the exit. “Can we go now?”
“We can help people,” Sarah said.
“We’ll help whoever needs it on the way down.” His eyes scanned the chaos.
A security officer stepped closer to her, and she heard something about fire trucks arriving on the scene from his squawking radio.
“My son! I can’t find my son! Someone help me find my boy! Jackson! Jackson!”
Sarah stopped and spun, pulling Gavin to a halt. “We can’t just leave. We have to help.”
She darted toward the distraught father. Gavin gave an exasperated grunt and stayed on her heels. Two others had also stopped to help.
“How old is he and what does he look like?” Sarah asked.
“Six. He’s got red hair, green eyes, and freckles. I was holding his hand and someone bumped me. I lost my grip and then he was just gone!” He swiped a hand down his face. “My wife is going to kill me. Jackson! Jackson! Where are you?” He swung back, eyes pleading. “Please help me.”