Page 102 of Blood Money

Gray cupped the side of Alex’s face. “I’ll do everything I can.” And then he was gone, too, leaving Alex alone in the tiny room crammed with equipment. She stared at the frozen image on the monitor, the one showing Jan’s face.

Daisy hugged her tightly. “Don’t lose hope.”

Alex rested her head on Daisy’s shoulder and breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m trying not to.” But inside, her hope was sinking fast. It was quickly being replaced with grim reality.

Best-case scenario, Jan would take Nicky out of the country and she would never see him again. Worst-case scenario, her son would die. Either way, he could be gone from her life.

Forever.

…

Eighteen hours had passed and still no sign of Nicky. Every police department, hospital, train and bus station, and airport in New York, along with every surrounding state had the BOLO, the Amber Alert, and photos of Nicky and Alex’s estranged husband.

The last of Gray’s coffee churned in his stomach. He didn’t think he could ever again feel as helpless as he had when Alex had been taken, but he felt it now. All the bases had been covered and there was nothing more he could do than wait for someone to call in a tip.

Shanahan and Grimaldi had interviewed everyone at Nicky’s school and every resident within view of the school. No leads there. They’d even run every vehicle tag that any other camera within a five-block radius recorded in the hour leading up to when Nicky was kidnapped. Also a dead end.

When he’d left Alex at the school, the look on her face—the sheer, abject terror—would haunt him for the rest of his life. As much as he wanted to stay and comfort her, the best thing he could offer was his investigative expertise.

Outside, dawn was breaking on the horizon. Sunlight glinted off windows on the upper floors of nearby skyscrapers.

Beside him in the car, Dom yawned and stretched. “If you haven’t figured it out, you’re in love with her, you dumbass.”

“No shit.” Gray watched the sun rise over Manhattan, wondering if Nicky would still be alive at sunset. “But if we don’t find Nicky, it won’t matter. Alex will be devastated.”

And I’ll never forgive myself.

As if reading his thoughts, Dom said, “Quit blaming yourself. Nicky was at school. If it hadn’t happened today, it would have happened tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Maybe not at the school, but somewhere else.”

Gray tried unsuccessfully to massage the ache behind his forehead. “Yeah, I know.” He did, but it didn’t mean shit, and it didn’t change a thing. He was so damned tired.

The phone clipped to his belt vibrated. “Yates,” he answered.

“It’s Shanahan. We got a tip.” Gray bolted upright, instantly awake. “Mount Sinai Hospital just reported a boy who looked like Nicky’s photo was admitted with a fever of a hundred and five. They aren’t sure the guy who brought the kid in was Mohammad, but whoever it is they’re pretty sure he’s not the kid’s father. The nurse that called said the guy was acting nervous, and it was obvious he didn’t know squat about his own kid. We’re on our way, along with every available unit in the vicinity.”

Gray held up his hand and motioned to Dom with his index finger to crank up the engine and hit the lights and sirens. “We’ll meet you at Mount Sinai.”

At this time of the morning, the streets weren’t clogged yet with commuter traffic, and Dom punched the sedan up to forty. “You gonna call Alex?” he asked.

“No.” As Dom hung a sharp right, Gray grabbed the overhead handle above the passenger door to keep from being thrown across the car. “Not until we’re sure.” The last thing he wanted was to give her false hope and watch her disintegrate before his eyes when it turned out not to be Nicky.

At the next intersection, Dom braked at the wall of taxis blocking the way. None seemed perturbed with the fact that the sedan’s emergency lights were lit up like a Christmas tree. He blasted the air horn and tapped the bumper of the taxi in front of them. When the obstructing cab darted to the side of the road, he gunned the engine.

Five minutes later, Dom maneuvered the car to a screeching halt beside a dozen marked units parked outside the hospital, their red and blue lights reflecting off the hospital’s glass doors. Gray jumped out of the car and ran inside with Dom one step behind.

Down the hall, Shanahan, Grimaldi, and half a dozen uniforms turned to follow a security guard leading them to the elevator banks. The guard punched the up button.

Shanahan motioned to Gray and Dom. “They’re on the fifth floor. The kid’s fever is so high he’s in intensive care. No idea if the guy’s armed. We’ll assume he is.”

“Good call.” Gray and Dom followed everyone inside the elevator, which meant they would be first off. The elevator jerked and began to move upward with excruciating slowness. Thanks to the security guard’s emergency key, they bypassed the other floors, making it an express to the fifth.

The elevator dinged and came to a stop. As soon as the doors opened, Gray caught sight of the sign on the wall indicating the intensive care unit was to the left. He strode out the doors with Dom and the others at his heels. At the end of the hallway, a man headed for the exit door, looking nervously over his shoulder. He was the right height, weight, and general description of Mohammad, but Gray couldn’t be sure.

Just the same, he eased his hand to his weapon. “Hey!” he shouted. “Police!”

The man jerked his head around. Gray recognized him from the Watchlist photo.

Jan Mohammad.