Free Hostage Negotiation by Lena Diaz Page B

2,304 little one-inch squares in the grid pattern in the safety glass on the conference room wall opposite from where Kaylee was sitting. At least, if her math skills were right, and 48 squares up times 48 squares across equaled what she thought it did. In the middle of all that glass was the round seal of the Collier County Sheriff’s Office, with red, blue and green arrows displaying the words “Community, Safety, Service.”
    Looking away from the glass, she leaned back in her chair and studied the yellowing ceiling above her. Counting the acoustic tiles had been a little more difficult than counting the grid pattern in the glass window because the room was L-shaped. The short leg of the L was at the far end. It boasted a vending machine with all kinds of chips and candy, and two rows of expired “healthy” energy bars. Apparently, the cops preferred the chips, because they hadn’t been allowed to expire.
    There was also a narrow cabinet and countertop beside the machine, with a coffeemaker and microwave. If her assumption was correct that the ceiling tiles in the little L each constituted one-third of a full tile, then overall there were 105 tiles.
    She shoved back from the table and contemplated the swirls in the carpet. There was probably a pattern there, too, hidden amongst the coffee stains and dark impressions where many a booted foot had probably shuffled restlessly under the table, waiting for another boring meeting to end. Of course, none of their meetings could be as boring as hers—a meeting for one—while she waited for Zack to return from wherever he’d gone.
    In spite of her protests, he’d escorted her through the lobby of the sheriff’s office, down a long tan hallway filled with crayon drawings on the wall, probably from one of the neighborhood elementary schools, and into the conference room.
    And then he’d left.
    That was—she looked at her watch—forty-five minutes ago. She ran a finger over the tiny diamonds that marched around the delicate gold face. This watch was a replacement for the original one that her parents had gifted her on her sixteenth birthday: the watch the devil had taken from her the day he’d abducted her.
    She shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms. Was Zack punishing her for pulling him off the search? He hadn’t seemed the type to be so petty, especially when a woman’s life hung in the balance.
    The sound of footsteps coming down the long hallway outside the conference room had her focusing on the large glass opening in the opposite wall. A moment later Zack walked past it and opened the door.
    “You tricked me,” she immediately accused, even as she noticed that his hair was wet and that he’d undergone an amazing transformation since picking her up at the airport. He was clean, wearing clean clothes. Even in her current state of mind, she could appreciate how handsome he was, and how wonderful he smelled. But that didn’t make her any less annoyed at him. “You were supposed to take me to the search site.”
    He rounded the table and stopped beside her, his hand on the back of her chair.
    “I never said I’d take you there.” His voice was tight, his expression grim.
    Something was definitely wrong.
    “What happened?” she asked, her earlier annoyance gone. “Zack? Tell me.”
    He pulled out the chair beside her as more footsteps sounded out in the hallway. The door opened and two men in suits stepped into the room, men she recognized as Lieutenant Shlafer and Detective Larson. A third man came in behind them, but instead of a suit, he wore dark blue pants and a white lab coat.
    Zack sat beside her and gave her a sympathetic look.
    The suits moved out of the way, letting the man in the lab coat stand front and center. He was holding a clipboard with a sheaf of papers on it. But it was the embroidered words above the right breast pocket on his lab coat that had Kaylee’s stomach twisting into a cold, hard knot.
    Medical Examiner.
    Her gaze