Page 20 of Blood Money

Despite all the shit going down, when Alex locked gazes with him he felt the connection they had, the same as when she’d grabbed his arm earlier that morning.

Shake it off. You have to.

Their first date had been their last. Christ, by the end of the day she might be wearing an orange jumpsuit.

“It is the recommendation of Internal Affairs,” Simonetti continued, “that Ms. Romano be suspended immediately, pending termination proceedings. Submitting false statements on her application form is not only a regulatory offense but one that, under the current circumstances, has criminal implications as well. I’ll be taking her case to the DA’s office for consideration.”

“What?” Alex’s eyes went wide. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I never kid.” Simonetti closed his file. “Furthermore, you’ll have to turn over all the fake credentials you purchased in California. I’ll take them from you right now.” Simonetti rose from the table.

“Sit down,” Gray ordered. Simonetti glared at him, but Gray lasered the snooty prick with a hard stare until the other man sat with a huff. To Gray’s satisfaction, Simonetti’s neck reddened. “This meeting may have started out with Alex’s phony application papers as the focus, but Alex is right. There’s a bigger picture now, one we can’t ignore.”

“What,” Simonetti asked, “is more important than terminating someone who obtained employment with the NYPD under false pretenses?”

Ignoring Simonetti, Gray turned to Alex. “You said the woman who called you is from the Pyramid and she paid you twenty grand in exchange for a favor.” Alex nodded. “What’s the favor?”

Alex clasped her hands on the table. “She wants me to get copies of all NYPD files on the Pyramid.”

“Holy crap,” FBI Special Agent Wilson said under his breath.

Lt. Frye’s expression was grim. “What did you tell her?”

“That I wouldn’t do it, of course,” Alex snapped. “I told her she could have the money back, all of it, but I refused to do what they asked.”

“And this woman,” Detective Simonetti’s partner, IA Detective Mark Chavez, said, “she simply accepted your response and let you off the hook?”

“No.” Alex’s mouth tightened. “When I refused to do what she wanted, she said my son’s life depended on me getting the files, and she would contact me within the week with directions on how and where to deliver them.”

A vicious growl rose in Gray’s throat. No matter what Alex was guilty of, threatening a child put these scumbags ten levels below the homicidal shitbag zone he’d already catalogued them in. He stood and rounded the table, reaching for her phone. His hand accidentally brushed her arm, tingling at the brief contact. “What’s your cell number?” He forced himself to ask the question without looking into her lovely blue eyes. It was all he could do to ignore the sweet, flowery scent she wore.

Dom jotted down the number as she recited it.

Gray handed her back her phone. “Cue up the number that called you ten minutes ago.”

She did as Gray asked and handed him back her phone. He recited the number, which Dom also jotted down. Special Agent Wilson and his partner, FBI Special Agent Jim Tanner, made notes on a pad, as did HSI—Homeland Security Investigations—Special Agent Dan Greer. All the men present were affiliated with the Joint Terrorism Task Force.

“Probably a burner phone.” Dom headed for the door. “I’ll run it anyway.”

Alex looked at Gray. “Is a burner phone the same thing as a disposable phone?”

Gray noted her eyes were tinged with red, her complexion abnormally pale. “Basically, yes. A burner phone is disposable and essentially untraceable. It can be purchased with cash and no credit check. The only way to figure out who bought the phone is to find out where it was purchased then review store video to get a visual on the buyer. But the bad guys know that, so they purchase these phones months in advance of using them, and by then the store’s video memory has been recorded over several times.”

Alex put her hand to her throat. Gray’s eyes followed her fingers as they stroked her collarbone. When her pink nails delved beneath her shirt collar, Gray was reminded of how many times he’d wondered how soft the creamy skin on her neck would feel beneath his roughened fingers.

The closest I’ll ever come to touching her again will be to put handcuffs on her.

Anger and betrayal warred with his need to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But it wouldn’t be, and the thought had him gripping the phone in his hand so tightly the protective cover cracked.

Most of his anger was aimed at the Pyramid assholes who were out there killing for money and taking advantage of people, but some was reserved for Alex. She’d broken the law, and now not only was the entire Pyramid investigation compromised, but the city itself could be at risk from whatever the Pyramid was planning.

His view of situations was normally balls-on accurate. If you admit to committing a crime, then you’re guilty. But as he watched Alex’s blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, he struggled to reconcile that rigid perception of his job with what she had done.

Unless she’s a damn good actress planted inside the NYPD to get close to me.

Time to find out just how good an actress she was.

He sat on an empty chair next to Alex and leaned in so their gazes were nearly level. “Are you working for the Pyramid?”