Page 79 of Every Last One
“Here. Have my seat.” Neal got up and walked down the vehicle toward the alcove with the coffee.
Dylan took Neal’s spot at the table, looking at Luis several times. His gaze drifted to the laptop’s screen, and then he scanned more of the vehicle and landed on the markerboard. Gibson had pinned photographs of the four perps on there with magnets. Even if Mindy’s face was obscured.
“Why is Mindy’s picture up there?” Dylan made eye contact with Sandra.
Gibson had swiveled in his chair when Sandra had introduced him, but he grabbed a notebook and a pen. As the information officer, gathering intel primarily fell under his purview. The circumstances made this a little unorthodox, but it wasn’t unheard of in a crisis incident.
“There’s an ongoing situation inside Founders Hospital, and your wife is involved,” Sandra began, dispensing with an appetizer of what was to be a heavy main course.
“In what, exactly?” Dylan’s posture was stiff and closed off.
“This won’t be easy to hear, but she has a gun and is working with three other people.”
“The other photos on the board there?”
“Yes. Do any of them look familiar to you?” They hadn’t uncovered any trail that would make Sandra think he would recognize them, but she had to ask.
Dylan looked past her toward the markerboard. “I’ve never seen them before.” Meeting her gaze again, he added, “This isn’t making sense. Why would Mindy go in there with a gun, with those people? Strangers? They must be forcing her into this.”
Sandra appreciated why he’d want to believe that. It would certainly go down a lot easier than what she had to tell him. “Actually, Mr. Ashmore, it seems your wife orchestrated today’s events.”
Dylan wiped his face and shook his head. “I… I don’t know what to say to that. But Mindy is a kind person, and she wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Sandra could point out that people, even the ones closest to us, were capable of far more than we could imagine. Though if his assessment of his wife held merit, it made it less likely that she would shoot anyone. So far, she’d threatened, spoke of doing what she must, but there was nothing to indicate that she’d followed through and hurt anyone. Or worse. “We’re aware that you owe Founders Hospital quite a bit of money. Would you tell us why?”
“Mindy was diagnosed with breast cancer three years ago. It made us realize how life can change in an instant. But she recovered and went into full remission. She rang the bell in thecancer ward. We thought it was behind us.” He licked his lips, as his eyes filled with tears, and his chin quivered.
“It came back,” Brice said, in a near whisper.
“Yes. Six months ago. Neither of us were prepared for that.”
“Financially?” Sandra asked.
“In all ways.” He wiped his cheeks. “Emotionally, mentally. We barely got through it the first time the cancer hit.”
Brice angled his head. “Your marriage was affected?”
“Yes and no. Not like you might think. It brought us closer together. We were partners in this battle.”
Except for now it seemed Mindy was taking matters into her own hands. “Then, you’ve been able to handle a payment plan?”
Dylan let out a long, jagged breath. “Not at all. Mindy lost her job through all this. We could fight that, of course, unlawful termination, but with what? We don’t have money to hire a lawyer. Her boss replaced her. He wrote her dismissal off as poor job performance. Absolute bullshit. She’s been picking up temp office jobs here and there, but nothing steady or reliable. And she’s getting weaker.”
“She hasn’t begun treatment?” Sandra asked.
“With what? We don’t have any money, and our medical insurance is tapped out.”
“I can only imagine how hard the last year or so has been for you.” Sandra’s heart went out to this man and Mindy. She might be holding a roomful of people hostage, but part of being a good negotiator was relating to the person with the gun. Roles reversed, same triggers initiated, same baggage, any human being could be in Mindy’s place.
“Unbearable for the most part. The only light was that brief time when the cancer was gone. We were thinking positively and glimpsed a bright future.” His eyes glazed over. “We celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary the week before the diagnosis came in that the cancer had returned.” Dylan picked mindlesslyat his fingernails, seemingly retreating inward. Likely wishing he were anywhere else.
“Do you have any idea what she might hope to accomplish in there?” Sandra asked.
Dylan’s chin quivered again, and a few tears fell. Everyone let him have this time without speaking. Eventually, Dylan spoke. “We still owe two hundred and fifty thousand from her first fight against cancer. Neither of us had any idea how we’d pay it off in our lifetimes let alone face more, possibly the same amount, again. That’s if they’ll even treat her.”
“Is the hospital refusing to do so?” Sandra was disgusted by the extent of humankind’s greed. She knew the justification would be the hospital was independently owned and a business like any other that focused on profit.
“Founders is, and since they ruined our credit rating by sending our account to collections, we can’t get a loan and go to another hospital. But I told her we’d figure it out. She told me I would be better off if she was dead.” Tears dripped off his chin as he lifted his gaze to Sandra’s.
