Doc added.
After Tiel conveyed that, the sheriff asked who she was getting her information from. "He goes by Doc."
"You're shittin' me," the sheriff said.
"No."
"Doc's one of the hostages," she heard him pass along.
"Doc says the Dendy girl needs a specialist, huh?"
"That's right, Sheriff. And as soon as possible. We're concerned for her and the baby."
"If they surrender, we'll get her to a hospital pronto.
They have my guarantee."
"I'm afraid that's not a contingency."
"Davison won't let her go?"
"No," Tiel said. "She refuses to leave."
"Shee-ut, what a mess," he expelled on a heavy sigh.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do."
"Sheriff, I can't impress on you enough how badly this young woman is suffering. And…"
"Go ahead, Ms. McCoy. What?"
"The situation is under control," she said slowly. "For the time being everyone is calm. Please don't take any drastic measures."
"I hear what you're saying, Ms. McCoy. No grandstanding.
No fireworks, SWAT teams, and such?"
"Precisely." She was relieved that he understood. "So far, no one has been injured."
"And we'd all like to keep it that way."
"I'm very glad to hear you say that. Please, please, get a doctor here as quickly as you can."
"I'm on it. Here's the number of the phone I've got with me."
She committed the number to memory. Montez wished her luck and hung up. She replaced the telephone on the countertop, glad to note that it was an older model and didn't have a speaker-phone feature. Ronnie might wish to listen in on future conversations.
"He's working on getting a doctor here."
"I like the sound of that," Doc said.
"How soon before he gets here?"
Turning to Ronnie, she replied, "As soon as possible.
I'm going to be honest with you. He guessed your and Sabra's identity."
"Oh, hell," the boy groaned. "What else can go wrong?"