Page 93 of Blood Money

“No?” Alex slammed her hands on the table and leaned in toward Simonetti. “When I was five months pregnant, I learned my unborn child was a boy. Jan couldn’t give a shit about having a daughter, but when he learned we were having a boy, he rarely let me out of his sight. When I wanted to visit with friends up the coast for a long weekend to get away from him, do you know what he did, detective?”

Simonetti said nothing, just continued to stare at Alex with that smug, irritating look she detested.

“Of course you don’t.” Her lips trembled with rage and she didn’t care who saw it. “He locked me in my bedroom for three days. He took my cell phone and only opened the door to smack me around or bring me food. I don’t think he would have fed me anything, except for the health of his unborn son.”

Alex paused to take a breath and refuel, because she sure as hell wasn’t finished educating this pompous little prick.

“I was held captive by my own husband, detective.” She gritted her teeth, so pissed at Simonetti’s I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. “When he finally let me out of my own bedroom, I confronted him. That’s when he threatened to take my child and leave the country. Without me. I couldn’t believe he would do that, but when I researched stories of women in my situation, I discovered the prospect of having my son taken from me was very real. For God’s sake, Hollywood makes movies about this kind of thing.”

The room remained silent. Alex swore she heard the clock ticking on the wall, but it was digital. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell this to any of you, but I’m not sorry I took my child and ran. I couldn’t afford for my son to be raised by someone like Jan.”

“Someone like Jan?” Gray looked at her incredulously. “So you knew he was a terrorist. Did you report your suspicions to anyone? Like, say the police? The FBI? Homeland Security?”

“No,” Alex shouted. “I didn’t know he was a terrorist. I didn’t know what my husband was becoming. I only knew his behavior was erratic and angry, that he had become abusive and controlling, and I didn’t like his friends. And yes, his friends were Muslim, too, but that doesn’t automatically make them terrorists. To assume they were would have been pure speculation on my part.”

She let her head sag forward. She doubted anything she could possibly say would make a difference, but she had to try getting through to Gray. “Getting me and my son away from Jan was my priority. None of you have any idea what it’s like to be abused by your husband, locked up like a prisoner, and worry every second of every day whether he will take your child away from you.”

No one in the room said a word, and for a few seconds, Alex thought she might have actually gotten through to at least some of them.

Simonetti shook his head. “So on top of all the lies you’ve told, you kidnapped your own child.”

Alex had rarely felt the urge to hit someone. She was feeling it now and clenched both her hands into fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“The problem is,” Simonetti continued, “during your employment with the department you’ve lied and withheld information so many times I’ve lost count. There seems to be a continuing theme of dishonesty and false statements with you.”

“Do you have children, detective?” Alex glared at Simonetti, ready to take on this sonofabitch if it was the last thing she did outside a jail cell. “I suspect not, or you would understand. The love a mother has for her child is one of the strongest bonds in the universe. A mother would do anything to protect her child. Anything.”

More dead silence filled the room.

Lt. Frye tapped his fingers on the table. “Do you have any more revelations, Detective Simonetti?”

Alex closed her eyes and held her breath. Can this get any worse?

Simonetti gave a brief nod. “Due to Ms. Romano’s cooperation yesterday, the DA had all but decided to decline prosecution. For anything.” Simonetti paused. “But with this new information, I may ask him to reconsider.”

“You may ask him?” Alex stood, wishing she had the balls and the strength to launch herself across the table and beat Simonetti to a pulp. “You bastard.”

“In the meantime,” Simonetti continued, “it is still the recommendation of Internal Affairs that Ms. Romano be suspended immediately, pending termination proceedings. Submitting false statements on her application form, particularly statements concealing marital ties to someone on the Watchlist, is unforgivable. Had the department been aware of this, Ms. Romano would never have been hired.”

“Unfortunately, I agree.” Lt. Frye looked at her, regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Alex. As of this moment, you are suspended. Someone will drive you to Hopewell Springs to get Nicky then take you both home. And before you ask, the department will make good on its promise to fund Nicky’s treatments for the next twelve months.”

“Thank you.” Alex swallowed, her throat dry and burning again. She turned to Gray, who wouldn’t look at her, but she could feel the betrayal and anger radiating from his body.

“We’re done here.” Lt. Frye stood, as did the rest of the men. “Alex, let’s go.”

She pushed her chair back, wincing at the scraping sound it made on the wood floor. The shuddering breath she inhaled burned her throat, but she didn’t care. She willed Gray to look at her, to offer some semblance of understanding and forgiveness, but she knew he wouldn’t. Mr. Black-and-White Detective didn’t have it in him.

Though some of this was on her.

She’d lied since the day she’d walked into One PP. She not only lied about being married, but it turned out her husband really was a terrorist, someone Gray protected the country from in Afghanistan and now in the City of New York. None of the lies she regretted, except for the fact they’d inflicted wounds on Gray’s heart.

“Lieutenant, could I have a moment?” she asked.

Lt. Frye looked to Gray, who nodded. Across the table, Dom packed up his notes, then filed out behind the other men and closed the door behind him.

“Gray?” She rested her hand on his shoulder. His muscles went rigid beneath her fingers. Beautiful, silver-gray eyes that had looked down at her last night with such passion as they’d made love in her bed, now stared coldly at her, as hard and unbending as frigid steel.

A piece of her heart shriveled and died—the piece that was desperately in love with Detective Gray Yates. With that one look, Alex knew.