Page 17 of Blood Money

“My son?” Alex’s voice rose at the threat to Nicky. A few of the detectives looked in her direction. “You bitch,” she said through gritted teeth. “How dare you threaten my child?” She stood and hustled out of the room, down the hall, and into the ladies’ room. She peeked under all the stalls to verify she was alone. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are. You can’t deposit money into my bank account, threaten my son, and expect me to do you a favor. Are you crazy?”

“Hardly. We want you to copy files for us,” the woman continued. “Files the NYPD has on the Pyramid. You will be contacted within the week with instructions on where and how to deliver the documents.”

“Are you insane? I can’t bring you police files. I won’t!” Alex had no idea what the Pyramid was and didn’t care. “I’ll pay you back the money. Just tell me how.”

“You should be grateful. Your son is very sick, is he not? And you are nearly in debt.”

Alex stood frozen in the middle of the ladies’ room. Her grip on the phone tightened even more. She sucked in deep breaths, trying not to scream.

How do they know all this?

As anger coursed through her, Alex pressed her lips together. “I won’t do anything for you, do you hear me?”

“I do not make empty threats, Aileen.” Laughter echoed in Alex’s ears. “Wait for my call.”

The connection ended.

Alex’s entire body began to shake. Her life of the past seven years was about to unravel. The safety net she’d carefully and precisely constructed around her and Nicky was about to give way without a landing pad. The terror she’d worked so hard to leave behind…it could find her again. He could find her. More running. More hiding. I can’t start over.

The phone fell from her grasp onto the bathroom floor with a sharp crack. Her stomach roiled, and she was overcome with the urge to wretch. She just made it into one of the stalls before emptying what remained of her breakfast into the toilet. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dry heaves wracked her body as she clung to the edge of the seat, gasping.

When the dry heaves stopped, Alex rose and went to the sink to rinse out her mouth. She looked in the mirror, hardly recognizing the face staring back at her. Her blond hair was askew. Smudged mascara gave her a raccoon look, and her eyes were red and puffy. She shuddered and made a decision.

There was no way she could handle this on her own. She was completely out of her league. Money she’d thought was an unexpected gift—even if temporarily—was turning out to be her worst nightmare. God, but she never should have touched it.

It was blood money.

But who—or what—is the Pyramid?

It didn’t matter. This woman had threatened her son. Alex needed to protect him, and she couldn’t do it alone. There had to be a way out, some kind of escape for them both. They could run, but whoever this woman and the Pyramid were, one thing was mind-bendingly clear: they had resources beyond her wildest nightmares. They knew about Nicky’s illness, and they knew who she was. Correction, they knew who she’d been.

How, for God’s sake?

The phony life she’d created in New York was virtually undetectable, every nuance carefully crafted from a false identity purchased three thousand miles away in a dingy basement of an even dingier storefront.

She had to tell Gray and Lt. Frye. They would know what to do. They would keep Nicky safe. They had to.

But in confession there was danger. Submitting false identity documents to the department most definitely constituted cause for dismissal. Losing her job was a foregone conclusion. It was only a matter of when. What she needed was time. Time to line up a new job before she was fired. With Nicky’s need for expensive medical treatments income was paramount. But his safety came first. And that didn’t give her time.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed a tissue from the counter and cleaned up her face. On rubbery legs, she went back to the squad room and called Nicky’s school, verifying he was safe and sound and in class. Then she knocked on the conference room door. Everyone in the squad knew that short of a life-threatening emergency, when this door was closed, no disturbances would be tolerated. Well, dammit, this is an emergency.

When no one answered, Alex knocked louder. Heads in the squad room turned to see who had the audacity to pound so loudly on the closed conference room door.

Alex covered her mouth with her hand. Fear and shame cut deeply into her heart. Fear at what the future held. Shame at having been forced to do something illegal. These were her final thoughts just before doing the unthinkable. Without invitation, she opened the door.

Eight sets of eyes turned her way. Men in dark suits: Lt. Frye, Gray, Dom, and two IA detectives. The other three men she didn’t recognize, although they all wore visitor badges and must have arrived in the squad room before she did this morning. She could swear they were frowning at her.

“This is not a good time,” Lt. Frye said from the head of the table. His voice was typically calm, but there was a definite undercurrent in the room, one that told Alex something very serious was going down.

“Sir, I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands together, they were shaking so badly. “But it’s important.”

“Please wait outside.” Lt. Frye pointed to the door. “You know my policy.”

Every man in the room watched her, including Gray. His freezing stare penetrated her heart and soul.

What the hell have I done to deserve the hatred on his face?

“No, sir,” she said in a clear voice. “This can’t wait. I need to speak with you. Privately.”