Death by Request (Caribbean Murder #11)

“I didn’t hear him,” Ann repeated, “but, believe it or not, I heard Tara’s voice.”


“You heard what?” Cindy couldn’t compute it.

“I heard Tara say, I want to die, I want to die, please help me,” breathed Ann.

“How is this possible?” asked Cindy.

“It’s more than possible, it’s what happened,” Ann insisted. “I remember how shocked I was to actually hear Tara’s voice. It was thin, but lovely. But I didn’t like what she was saying. It hurt me that she wanted to die.”

“My God,” Cindy breathed. “Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Of course I did,” said Ann fervently. “I told everyone – no one cared or believed me. They thought I was still foggy from the coma. My husband said I should stay out of the quagmire, that I’d been through enough.”

“Did your husband believe what you heard Tara say?” Cindy was incredulous.

“I don’t think he did,” Ann’s eyes filled with tears. “Then I told my nurse but she brushed if off. She said we think all kinds of things when we’re half awake, half dreaming.”

“Could you have been dreaming Ann?” Cindy quieted down.

“No, I wasn’t, I’m sure,” Ann looked at Cindy beseechingly. “You have to believe me, you promised you would.”

“Did you hear anything else?” Cindy didn’t want Ann to lose her faith in her. But this was a lot to believe.

“Yes,” Ann went on fervently, “I even heard Konrad come into the room to talk to Alana.”

“How do you know who Konrad is?” Cindy’s teeth suddenly started chattering.

“I know who Konrad is because Alana called him by name,” said Ann. “Alana sounded surprised to see him and said, Konrad, what in the world are you doing here?”

There was no possible way Ann could know about Konrad unless she actually heard his name, thought Cindy. Was it possible everything she said was true?

“What was Konrad doing there in the hospital room?” Cindy asked, agitated.

“Konrad said he’d just come to see Alana, that he loved her and she had to trust him. Does any of that make sense? You can check out Konrad’s schedule if you need to see where he was the night.”

It all actually made perfect sense to Cindy, but she couldn’t say that to Ann yet.

“And what about Owen?” Cindy continued, desperate to know where he fit in. If he’d been there constantly, Ann had to have heard him say something.

“I didn’t hear Owen say anything at all,” Ann repeated.

“You never spoke to the police about this, right?” Cindy just had to be certain.

“How could I? Up to now nobody paid any attention to what I said,” Ann’s face suddenly flushed. “I’m glad you’re listening, I really am. It’s a huge relief to tell you this.”

“I’ll do more than listen,” said Cindy mobilizing. “I’m going to confront both Alana and Konrad myself.”

“Do what you have to,” Ann suddenly seemed very tired then. She slumped a bit back on her cushions.

“Thank you, Ann, thank you,” Cindy stroked her shoulder gently. “You’ve helped so much, you can’t imagine.”

“I’m so glad I could,” Ann managed to say, before her eyes closed once again and she drifted back to sleep.

*

Trembling, Cindy fled from Ann’s room to the head nurse, Beatrice Flann’s, office.

“I’ve heard incredible things about Tara’s case,” Cindy dove in without any preamble the moment she entered the room and saw Beatrice standing there.

“Heard what, from who?” Beatrice was flustered by the way Cindy barged in.

“I just spoke to Ann, the patient who shared a room with Tara in the ICU,” Cindy announced, waiting to see how Beatrice would respond.

By then Beatrice’s face became immobile and expressionless. “Yes?”

“I’ve learned quite a bit about Tara’s nurse, Alana,” Cindy continued, “and everything is starting to add up.”

“Calm down,” Beatrice said flatly, trying to take the air out of Cindy’s wings.

Beatrice had no effect on Cindy, however. “I learned that Alana was also the nurse for the other woman who died unexpectedly in the hospital a short while ago,” Cindy barreled right along.





“Pure coincidence,” Beatrice spoke emphatically. “The cases have absolutely nothing in common and the police have dismissed the possibility of any connection between them.”

“Ann also said that Alana was the nurse on call in Tara’s room the night she died,” Cindy went on. “Ann said Alana was agitated, that she heard her yelling at Tara. Ann also heard Tara say she wanted to die.”

“Fantasy and nonsense,” Beatrice uttered.

“Well, we can check out and see if in fact, Alana was the nurse assigned to Tara that night,” Cindy pushed it.

“The night nurse was off that night,” Beatrice replied flatly. “The night rotation was up for grabs.”

“Was Alana the night nurse?” Cindy asked pointedly.