Page 61 of Every Last One
Then, it was as if she were awakened from a trance. A piercing noise struck her ears. The heart monitor was sending off an alarm.Phoebe!
The little girl was turning blue. She would die without Maria’s help. She backed up, and her heels hit against the wheels on the defibrillator cart.Do something!
Maria quickly pushed the cart across the room to Phoebe’s bedside. She primed the unit and readied herself with the paddles.
Do something…The words were haunting, tempting, and challenging.
She put the paddles on the child’s chest. Once the charge built, she called out, “Clear!”
Phoebe’s little body jolted from the bed. She was so fragile, her heart so weak that every time she had to be resuscitated her chances of survival diminished.
Do something…
Maria stepped back and watched as the girl’s breathing evened out. Maria set the paddles back onto the unit. One of the handles was smeared with blood. Jordon’s blood.
Do something…
As a nurse, Maria never took the Hippocratic Oath to cause no harm, but she recited the Florence Nightingale Pledge upon graduation from nursing college.Before God… to practice my profession faithfully…
Do something…
There must be allowable loopholes to the pledge, a way of working around or through. Exceptions could be argued. Like this piece of trash holding the gun. The man who had shot the man she loved, who may have stolen her baby’s father.
Do something…
She hesitated for a few seconds, and her phone rang in her pocket.
“What the hell? Give me that,” the gunman barked at her. “Now!”
She gave him her phone and watched him turn it off and push it into his pocket.
Do something…
With the man distracted, she grabbed the defibrillator paddles and charged them again.
“What are you doing?” The man was standing close behind her.
She turned. His arms were down at his sides, with the muzzle of his gun facing the floor. Even if he fired the weapon, it was of no threat to those beneath them. The levels were separated by concrete.
Maria pushed the charged paddles against the man’s chest.
THIRTY-FOUR
3:30 PM
Elwood’s swearing was still pounding in Sandra’s head. To say he hadn’t taken the news about Jordon Maddox being shot well was an understatement. Elwood confided in her he had no intention of sharing this with the FBI director unless the situation became fatal. She appreciated that but didn’t relish being part of the conspiracy. The truth had a way of getting out, and if Maddox died, the director would be out for heads. She imagined Ilene Maddox spearheading the campaign.I remember people who break their word…Sandra tried calling the boardroom a few times, but the shot caller let it ring. The silence was unsettling, and that might be why Sandra jumped when Neal’s phone rang.
“It’s Detective Birch,” he told everyone, and put the call on speaker. “Everyone’s here, Detective,” he told Eric. “Hit us with some good news, please. We’re in desperate need of some.”
“I’ve got an update on Feeney that you’ll want to hear. I’ll leave it up to you to decide just how good it is.” Eric laid everything out, and as good as it felt to hear his voice, Sandra wished he was coming to them with more. As if he heard her thoughts, he added, “I wish I had more.”
“It’s a start,” Neal said. “It will be good to know what the boyfriend has to say, and get that laptop over, Eric. Or I can send a unit for it.”
“The department’s already spread thin. I’ll bring it over as soon as I can.”
Neal thanked him and ended the call. At least Sandra had one thing to look forward to. Seeing Eric’s face.
“Feeney has money problems and owes a large sum to Founders. That doesn’t seem to be inconsequential considering where we’re at today,” Sandra said. “Is this all about money?”
