Deadly Heat

“Quite possible. Especially if it’s a small terror group, infighting and

membership changes can knock them off balance.” Heat saw Ochoa’s hand. “Miguel?”


“So can scrutiny. I saw it tons when I worked gangs and rackets. You bring some

surveillance, do a little nosing around, the bad guys go into sleep mode.”

“Yes.” Nikki pointed at the detective with fervor. “That’s exactly where I am

going. I know we’ve all worked this together, but indulge me while I bullet-point:

My mother’s killed, but she has a close friend and fellow CIA agent named Nicole

Bernardin.”

“The frozen lady in the suitcase,” said Raley.

Nikki relived the successive shocks: being on Columbus Avenue that day, thinking she

was investigating a routine homicide, a body in a suitcase; then reeling when she

recognized the suitcase as one that had been stolen from her mother’s apartment the

night she was killed; then feeling stunned again when the victim turned out to be

her mother’s best friend… and CIA spy partner.

“That’s correct. Like my mom, Nicole Bernardin was part of Tyler Wynn’s network.

And something that Nicole had discovered got her killed, too. Also by Tyler Wynn.

But recently. After a decade-plus gap.”

Heat walked back behind the table and picked up a manila folder. “Let’s look at

some highlights from Nicole Bernardin’s case file. First, residue found on her body

came from a potent medical lab solvent. Next, we never got a tox report on Nicole

because Salena Kaye—Tyler Wynn’s accomplice—sabotaged her toxicology lab test.

And before the medical examiner could rerun the test, some mystery person ordered

Nicole Bernardin’s cremation.”

Nikki looked up as she turned the page. She had their total focus. “Wynn had

another accomplice. A crooked cop named Carter Damon. When we located Damon’s van,

Forensics not only found a blood match to Nicole Bernardin, they also found traces

of the same lab cleaning solvent.” She paused, marking her place in the folder with

a finger.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about a murderer cleaning a dead body with lab solvents.

Why? To clean what? And going to such lengths as to sabotage a toxicity test. Then

destroy the body so no test can ever be run. Why would somebody do all that?” She

scanned the room, seeing everyone’s eyes locked on hers. “It suddenly dawned on me

that Nicole Bernardin must have come in physical contact with something while she

was investigating Tyler Wynn’s secret activities. And I can only think of one

reason to erase all traces of it so rigorously.”

She closed the file and turned to the whiteboard. She had just uncapped her marker

when she sensed the group behind her back drawing the same conclusion she had.

Somebody—it sounded like Roach—muttered a long “Fuuuck.”

And then she caps-printed her hypothesis beside “Type of Event” in a single,

horrifying word: BIOTERROR.




When she turned from the board, Captain Irons spoke from where he stood at the back

of the room. “Heat? A moment?”

The precinct commander closed the door when she stepped into his office, but he didn

’t bother to waddle around behind his desk, so neither of them sat, which suited

Nikki’s preference for a drive-by meeting. “Good briefing,” he said. “I was a

fly on the wall for most of it.”

“Yes, sir, I noticed.”

“Be nice to get a heads-up next time, so I don’t have to be lucky.”

“Absolutely,” she lied.

Thinking that was that, she took a step to go, but he said, “Tough going on Tyler

Wynn. You got your man, but he still left a bucket of worms to claw through.

However, on the sunny side, now that that’s closed, I can have you full-time on

Rainbow.”

“That’s far from closed, Captain. You were at my debrief. It’s a bioterror case

now.”

“Which DHS is running. Got to tell you, Detective, if Rainbow was tying colored

strings to my picture, I’d be all over it.”