Page 21 of Blood Money

“No!” Alex grabbed his arm. “I told you already, I don’t even know what the Pyramid is.”

The imprint of every one of her fingers burned a hole through Gray’s jacket straight to his skin.

Distance. I need distance.

He leaned back, forcing her to release his arm. It took a moment longer before he could shrug off the effects her touch still had on him. Effects warring with the anger coursing through his veins.

Gray narrowed his eyes, still unsure if she was telling the truth. “Was the twenty thousand dollars in your account a payoff to get inside the NYPD? To get information for the Pyramid?”

“No, no, no!” Alex rose to her feet, clenching her fists. “There was no payoff. For God’s sake, why won’t any of you believe me?” She swept her arm to encompass everyone seated at the table. “I would never do anything to compromise the department or the safety of others. Please believe me.”

He wanted to. God, how he wanted to.

Gray rose to stand beside her and stared down into her eyes. “Did you know about the listening devices the night janitor planted in Dom’s and my office phones?”

“No. I did not.” She met his gaze and held it. “Not until after you arrested him, that is. After that, the rumor mill filled in the blanks.”

For several long moments, Gray stared back, his brain switching to analytical mode. He took in her face, her eyes, and her posture. Every nuance of her body language that could unwittingly admit deception.

Unless she’s a skilled liar.

And Gray had encountered many such individuals on the job.

“Alex,” Lt. Frye interrupted his thoughts. “Have a seat.”

Alex sat slowly then lowered her head into her hands, whispering, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

The temptation to stroke her shiny blond hair made him wonder what the hell was wrong with him. She’d committed crimes. She’d lied to gain access to classified NYPD case files, and maybe to get access to him. The wires in his brain crisscrossed into a giant ball of crap.

“Gentlemen,” Lt. Frye continued. “Regardless of her statement that she doesn’t want a lawyer, I think now would be a good time to advise Ms. Romano of her rights.”

Gray looked over toward Simonetti’s partner, Chavez, who sat quietly listening, all the while tapping his pen on a pad. He and Chavez had worked together on the janitor case for months, and while no one in the NYPD particularly liked IA, Gray found Chavez to be fair in his investigations of department personnel. Something was on Chavez’s mind, and Gray had a bad feeling about what it was.

Chavez pulled out his constitutional rights card and read Alex her rights. When he was done, he asked, “Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?”

“Yes.” Alex nodded.

“And do you understand that anything you say here today can also be used to suspend and or terminate your employment with the department?” Again, Alex nodded. “You’re still in your probationary period, so terminating you will be that much easier. Do you understand this?”

Alex took a deep breath, tightening her blouse against her breasts. “Yes.”

Chavez pulled a waiver of rights form from his leather binder and passed it across the table to Alex. She signed without hesitation.

“Thank you.” Chavez tucked the form back into his binder, allowing Simonetti to take over.

“We also have an obligation to inform you what criminal charges you could face.” Simonetti looked down at the yellow pad in front of him. “You’re looking at class C bribery in the second degree. While this charge has no mandatory incarceration, it carries a minimum incarceration of one to three years and a maximum of eight to twenty-five.”

Again, Alex covered her face with her hands. Gray’s gut tightened as he experienced an unexpected sense that something about this was all wrong. None of this fit with what he knew—or, thought—Alex Romano was. A good woman. A loving mother. A conscientious employee.

Like his sister, Cassie, Gray had unerring good sense about people and could tell with nearly infallible accuracy when someone was lying. That same sense was telling him Alex wasn’t lying. But with nothing to back it up with, his brain refused to seriously consider the possibility she was innocent.

And an FBI agent had just been murdered at the hands of the Pyramid. Even if Alex had nothing directly to do with the agent’s death, if she was actually conspiring with them in any way, the court would have no mercy on her. Nor would he. Yet Gray couldn’t stop from wanting to punch out Simonetti.

Given Alex’s transgressions, he was confused as hell at his protective urges kicking into overdrive. His good versus bad, black and white perspective was normally a solid brick wall preventing him from ever having reservations about someone’s guilt. His instincts about people had only failed him once, but that one time led to disastrous consequences, and no way in hell could he let that happen again. Ever.

“You can’t be serious about those charges,” Alex said on a shaky breath.

“We are.” Simonetti yanked a printout from a stack of papers in front of him on the table. “You have no criminal history under the name Alexandra Romano, but we’ll also be running a more extensive background check on your real name. It will take a few days, but soon we’ll know everything there is to know about Aileen Alexanderson.”