She opened his mouth and blew in two breaths before running to one of the rooms and grabbing the telephone. Dialing 9-1-1, she rushed to explain the situation. Sprinting back to Alain, she breathed for him again, and feeling no pulse, she started CPR, a skill she learned after finding her sister.
One of her personal security ran into the villa. “Madame Lillier, it’s Newt. The police are here.”
“Up here. It’s Alain. I need help!” She compressed his chest over and over.
* * *
Taggart Dupart wasminutes from calling it a shift when the call came out. A cold sweat dripped down his back. En route to the scene, he hit the Bluetooth on his phone. “Twice in one day,” Julian said with a laugh.
“The model I spoke to you earlier about, I’m on my way to her villa again, but this time it came in as adult male cardiac arrest. I don't know about you, but I don't believe in coincidences.” Taggart’s tone was tight.
“Merde, you know I don't believe in coincidences either. We’ll get this figured out. I'll try to get an earlier flight out. I agree with you; something doesn’t seem right. Do me a favor and call me when you hear more.”
Taggart heard his brother exhale loudly as he terminated the call.
* * *
Julian grabbedthe stack of paperwork off his printer and ran down the hall, square into the body of his colleague Martin “Farmer” Bailey.
“Whoa, where the hell are you off to?” He stabilized his friend and held him back at arm's length.
“To give this report to Kieran. I spoke to him earlier about a situation in San Diego that Tag called me about. I was going to fly out there with Del this weekend and spend some time. She deserves a getaway with some sunsets.” A sexy smile touched his lips. “And at Tag’s request, I was going to knock on the door belonging to fashion model Monique Lillier. She's had some strange things going on in her life.”
Martin’s eyes widened. “Hmm.”
“Coullion, it’s not what you think. Today someone spiked a bottle of seltzer, and thank goodness she spilled the glass because it ate through one of the outdoor terraces at the Fairmont. Tag’s gut told him it wasn’t product tampering. Just now he called to say he was en route to a call back to her villa for an adult male in cardiac arrest. He's going to call me back as soon as he gets more information. Earlier, he gave her our card. Wasn’t impressed with her security. I'd like to fly out there tonight and see what's going on. I just have a bad feeling.”
“Did Kieran give you permission to go?” Martin raised a brow.
“Yes.” Julian pressed his lips together. “He said it was fine to go out tomorrow night. He wanted me to finish the Sullivan case. I finished it, thanks to Kip’s sweetness routine. They agreed to do what we wanted them to do. I'm free.”
“You're going to con the boss again? Just take some vacation time.”
“If he said no, I’d do that. But Tag has my gut churning. I want to plead this case; I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“Ian just came in; why don't you ask him?” Martin suggested.
“Why doesn't my wonderful friend come down the hall with me? You could use a few days in San Diego, couldn't you? Didn't you just get back from dealing with that BS in Texas?” Julian puffed out his lower lip.
“Don't remind me. You know you're impossible, right?” Martin laughed.
“Mon frère, that's why you love me.” Julian slapped his back.
Martin shook his head. “I could use a little less love like this. It usually results in me getting my ass shot at.”
The two men walked down the rest of the hallway to Kieran Chase's office. Verna leaned back in her chair. “Julian, you just don't give up, do you?”
“I have a file he wanted. Besides, life would be boring if I gave up.”
“Give it to me, and I’ll give it to him,” she said. “He just got back from his yearly exam. Doc Montgomery and Pete just left.”
Julian sighed. He remembered the agonizing wait with Ian to see if they could get him off the mountain. “We won’t ambush him.”
“We’ll take it slow, but we need to see him.” Martin’s gray eyes flashed at her.
“I see you’re letting Julian drag you down with him, Martin. Hold on, he's in there with Ian. Let me call you in for once. Martin, at least see if you can talk some sense into this boy.”
Martin, at age thirty-five, and Julian at thirty-seven, would let very few people call them “boys.” After a few minutes, Verna told them to go on in. Martin and Julian placed a simultaneous kiss on each of the woman’s cheeks. The woman, in her fifties, was retired from military service. Her husband was a major in the Army. And her children were still in high school.
