“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”
Rook joined in. “When you say someone burned her, do you mean one of her patrons, a family she was spying on, or another spy who wanted what she had?”
“All of the above. When things turn, anyone can come at you from any direction.”
The potential connection Heat had been brooding over could wait no longer. “You mentioned Nicole Bernardin. Is it possible she turned on her and did this?”
He shook his head emphatically. “No. Absolutely out of the question. Nicole loved Cindy. They were like sisters. Nicole Bernardin would die for your mother. Talk to her yourself, you’ll see.” And then he read something on their faces. “What?”
“Tyler, I am sorry to have to tell you this,” said Nikki. “Nicole is dead.”
His eyes flashed wide and his jaw fell. “Nicole …? Dead?”
“She was also murdered.”
“No.”
Heat grew alarmed at his growing distress. “Maybe we should discuss this later.” She started from her chair.
“No, tell me, tell me now.” He struggled to get himself up on an elbow. “Don’t go, tell me. I need to know.”
“All right, but please, settle back.”
He didn’t. Wynn’s shock and disbelief got swept away in rage. “Who killed her? How? When?”
“Tyler, please,” said Nikki. She moved closer to rest a hand on him, and Rook came around the other side of the bed to ease him back onto his pillows. He complied and seemed outwardly more calm, although his breathing remained labored.
“Just tell me. I’m fine. See?” He smiled a disconnected smile and dropped it. “Fair trade. I opened up for you.”
Heat said, “Nicole was stabbed to death last week in New York City. The day after your attack.”
Tyler Wynn squeezed both eyes shut in a full-face wince. “No …” he rasped and wagged his head deliriously on the pillow. Then his eyes shot open and he coughed. Between coughs he said, “No … They’re … still … after it.”
“You have to keep yourself calm now,” said Rook. And then to Nikki, “Which one’s the nurse call button?”
“No, not Nicole, too!” hollered Wynn, bolting up on his elbow again, gasping, the whites of his eyes visible around frantically darting pupils. The cadence of the heart rate monitor began to increase.
“I’m getting the guard,” said Nikki, but when she turned, the drape billowed as the door opened and a nurse entered.
Upon seeing the patient, she hurried to him. Heat and Rook stepped back, letting her go to work, but even as the nurse attended him, Wynn moaned hoarsely and drifted backward, holding his chest. The audio alarm screeched on the monitor and the green electronic display of his heart rate spiked and fell erratically even as it gained tempo. The nurse pushed a call button. “Code bleu, salle deux-zero-trois, rapidement. Code bleu, salle deux-zero-trois.”
Urgent voices and the sound of small rubber wheels skittering on linoleum drew closer. An arm reached out to claw the privacy drape aside. The cardiac team rushed in, a doctor and a nurse pushing the crash cart. The arriving nurse gestured an arm sweep at Heat and Rook indicating they should stay back where they stood against the window. “Reculez vous, s’eloignier.”
The two of them stayed there, hugging the wall as the medical staff responded to the emergency. The doctor checked vitals. “Vingt cent joules,” he said. The cardiac nurse threw switches and twisted a dial on the cart. They heard an ascending, barely audible tone signaling the charging of the defibrillator paddles. In a measured voice, the doctor said, “Au loin.” All stood clear of the patient as the jolt was delivered to his chest. Tyler’s entire body bounced on the mattress.