Blood Money (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Simonetti pursed his lips and massaged his chin, as if he was actually pondering what Gray had just said, when it was obvious he wasn’t. “Agreed,” he said finally, although Alex still detected the presence of glee simmering beneath the surface.

  The man hates me, but why?

  Because he just lost out on a case that would have given him a good stat and a nice monetary award at the end of the year.

  That still didn’t explain why he sat there like a vulture waiting to swoop in and arrest her.

  Or pick at my bones.

  Along with the coffee, the pastry she’d wolfed down for breakfast began to roll and churn in her stomach.

  When Simonetti opened his mouth to speak again, Lt. Frye held up his hand, cutting him off. “Early this morning, Gray updated me on more of the details regarding what went down yesterday. But I want specifics.”

  Lt. Frye redirected his attention to Alex. “We know Fatima changed the meet location en route and that you were kidnapped in uptown Manhattan when you went to deliver the envelope to Fatima’s accomplice. Two city cameras recorded the incident. What we want to know are the details about what happened after you were put in the van.”

  “Yes, sir.” Alex cleared her throat. “After I handed the envelope to the man waiting on the corner, there was a loud explosion. He drugged me. I felt the needle in my arm, and the last thing I remember before waking up in that barn was being pushed inside the van. I couldn’t move my arms or my legs.” Beside her, Gray shifted uneasily in his seat. “I woke up on the floor of the barn and managed to turn off the locator device. Later, I learned that the man, Abdullah, did try to wand me, but the batteries were dead.”

  HSI Agent Dan Greer snickered. “Happens to our guys all the time. No matter how many times you warn them to start out with fresh batteries on every op, it never fails that they don’t.” The other agents nodded in agreement.

  “Go on.” Lt. Frye glared at Agent Greer, clearly annoyed at the comical interruption.

  “There was a moment,” Alex continued, “when I was able to turn the locator back on without them noticing.”

  “How do you know the man’s name was Abdullah?” Agent Greer asked.

  Alex shifted in her chair to face Greer. “Fatima called him that. He seemed subservient to her. I don’t think she respected him, and I believe that feeling was mutual.”

  “What happened to the documents we gave you?” Lt. Frye asked.

  “Fatima burned them without even looking at them. She knew they were either bogus or completely useless. As I told Detective Yates yesterday,” she said, nodding to Gray and finding it odd referring to him so impersonally after the intimacies they’d shared, “what she really wanted was for me to look at blueprints of One PP. She wanted me to mark down where all the armed security officers were, along with all the magnetometers and other monitored points of entry into the building.”

  “And did you?” This from Simonetti.

  “No.” Alex’s face got hot. Anger boiled deep inside her at the asinine question. “Of course not. I refused.”

  Simonetti’s eyes flashed. “If you refused, then why didn’t they kill you on the spot?”

  “Because,” Alex said, then pressed her lips together, struggling not to tack on, you asshole, “Fatima told me a bullet was too good for me and that I deserved to suffer. She wanted to burn me alive. Is that a good enough reason?”

  Simonetti twisted his lips into a frown that was half pleased. “Come now, Ms. Romano. Are we to believe everything you tell us is the truth just because you say it is? Fatima and Abdullah are both conveniently dead, so we can’t confirm anything you tell us. Point of fact, you lied the very first day you walked into this building when you filled out your application forms.”

  “How many times do we have to go over this?” Alex’s face grew hot from the heated rush of anger. “I’ve already explained why I did that.”

  “I agree.” Gray slammed his fist onto the table. “What the hell are you doing, Simonetti? We’re here to debrief her and that’s it. Your line of questioning is getting old real fast, so either you back the fuck off or I’ll throw you out of this meeting on your ass.”

  “My apologies.” Simonetti gave Gray a greasy smile. “I was out of line.”

  Acid in the pit of Alex’s stomach was nearing the boiling point. Simonetti’s smile was anything but sincere. Something was terribly wrong here.

  Does he know? Did the background check come back already?

  It’s too soon. Please let it be too soon. Not before I can tell Gray myself.

  God how she wished she’d told him already, but something always seemed to get in the way.

  “My apologies.” Simonetti leaned back in his chair. “Please continue, Ms. Romano.”

  Gray rested his hand on her shoulder. “Go on.”

  Alex couldn’t stop the bile from rising in her throat. “It was around that time that Abdullah saw the police chopper hovering outside. Fatima knew it was too much coincidence. She tore open my shirt and found the locator device. Then she put a bullet in Abdullah’s head.” Something she would never forget. “Fatima shot up the laptop and set fire to the blueprints and all the boxes in the warehouse. Earlier, I’d seen a thumb drive on the floor, and I managed to grab it.”

  “Something we should be grateful for,” Gray said in a harsh tone, clearly for Simonetti’s benefit.

  “Everything started to burn.” Alex instinctively put her hand to her throat, remembering the smell and burning sensation of the smoke as she’d inhaled. “I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t see a foot in front of me, but I found the handle to the root cellar on the floor. It took me a bit to get it open with my hands taped, but I did and went down there to get away from the smoke and fire. Then Gray was there, carrying me out.” She looked at him and felt the love swell in her heart like a dry sponge suddenly soaked with life-giving water. “I didn’t even remember the thumb drive until the EMTs cut the tape from my hands.”

  “So,” Gray directed his next words to everyone else in the room, “when Fatima told Alex to bring department documents on the Pyramid, that was all bullshit. An excuse to grill her on One PP’s security layout. Whether it’s part of the Pyramid’s plan to storm police headquarters for an outright massacre of department personnel or something else, we don’t know. We’re still in the process of reviewing everything on the storage device, but we do know what’s on it is hot as hell.”

  “Detective,” FBI Agent Will Tanner said, “don’t you think we should discuss that outside Ms. Romano’s presence?”

  “I don’t.” Gray shot Agent Tanner a duh look. “She’s the only living soul on the planet who’s had extensive contact with a Pyramid assassin and lived to talk about it. It’s totally appropriate that she hear this because she might also be the only one who can shed some light on what the Pyramid is planning.”

  “You’re right,” Agent Tanner ceded, nodding.

  “The thumb drive contains two noteworthy things,” Gray continued. “The first is a list of people living or working in the city, along with their names, addresses, personal identifiers, and their weaknesses.”

  “What do you mean, weaknesses?” Agent Tanner asked.

  “Something the Pyramid can exploit,” Gray explained. “Financial troubles, an extramarital affair, sexual perversion, or gambling debts—like the department janitor who planted those bugs in our phones. Anything that can be used against a person to extract something useful.”

  “Like a sick child,” whispered Alex, realizing she was probably one of many who had been blackmailed over the years, to be used and cast aside by Fatima and her evil cohorts.

  “Like a sick child.” Gray looked at her, sympathy and understanding in his eyes. “We’re running everyone on that list through Department of Labor records to determine where they work, what position they hold, and what the Pyramid plans to exploit from them. We’ll reach out to everyone on that list and request their cooperation if they’re contacted by t
he Pyramid. We can’t ignore the possibility that there’s a larger plan with multiple assassins working together.”

  “And,” Dom added, “we need to consider that there may be someone high up in their food chain calling the shots, so to speak.”

  “An interesting twist in tactics,” Agent Greer said. “What’s the other noteworthy item on the thumb drive?”

  “A list of dates and times for the next three months,” Gray answered. “There are no locations associated with these dates and times, so we’re not certain of their significance.”

  “Based on the information Fatima wanted from Alex,” Dom added, “we’re going with the theory that it has something to do with One PP.”

  Gray made a few notes on his pad. “Lieutenant, can we get a list from the commissioner of all special events scheduled for One PP and the rest of the city for the next twelve months?”

  Lt. Frye nodded. “I’ll initiate that request today.”

  “I’ll make inquiries on my end.” Dom scribbled something down.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Agent Tanner asked.

  “It means, I’ll make some inquiries.” Dom sent Agent Tanner a harsh glare, one Alex had never seen on Dom’s handsome, happy-go-lucky face before, leaving her speculating there was more to Detective Dominick Carew than just a pretty face.

  “Fine, I get it.” Tanner threw up his hands. “Confidential sources.”

  “You are finally getting it.” This time Dom smiled. “Thought I was going to have to spoon-feed you feds.”

  “Any word from the coroner on Fatima and Abdullah?” Lt. Frye looked to Gray.

  “Burned to a crisp,” he answered. “Seconds after Alex and I got out of that barn, it went up in flames and collapsed. FDNY says its still smoking. Getting prints off either body, not gonna happen.”

  “I’ll make inquiries on them as well.” Dom flipped his portfolio closed.

  The FBI and HSI agents exchanged looks and rolled their eyes.

  “Moving on,” Gray said in a tone meant to broach no argument, although even Alex was intrigued by Dom’s sources and what his real background was. “Alex, did you see anything on the laptop you mentioned?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Fatima was typing on it, but I never saw what was on the screen.”

  Gray turned to Alex. “In as much detail as possible, describe what Fatima and Abdullah looked like.”

  Alex did and for the next two hours answered question after question about exactly what Fatima and Abdullah did and said. Some of the agents took notes, particularly FBI Agent Tanner. Only Gray’s reassuring presence kept her going. She covered her mouth with her hand, yawning.

  “We’re almost done,” Gray said in a soothing voice, jotting something down on a pad. “Any other questions?”

  “Yes.” Agent Tanner held up his pen. “One of the things that helps the FBI put together criminal profiles is what makes them tick. You mentioned earlier that Fatima seemed to resent working with Abdullah and didn’t respect him.” Alex nodded. “Can you explain what made you think that?”

  “She called him an idiot, and their demeanor toward each other was always angry. Fatima was constantly yelling at Abdullah.”

  “In English?” Tanner asked.

  “Farsi, I assume.”

  “And when Fatima spoke to you, it was in English?”

  “Yes, her English was quite good.”

  “When she spoke to Abdullah, was it always in Farsi?”

  “Not always.”

  “When she called Abdullah an idiot, was it in English or Farsi?” Agent Tanner asked.

  Alex froze. Fatima had spat that word out in Farsi. How could she explain that she understood the word idiot in Farsi? Her mind raced for an answer that wouldn’t expose her past.

  And her lies. Although she had a feeling Simonetti already knew.

  “Alex?” Gray put down the pen he’d been holding.

  “I—”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to lie, to say that Fatima spoke that one word in English. But she couldn’t do it. She’d lied so much to Gray and the department, and she wouldn’t do it again.

  “Perhaps I can shed some light on why Ms. Romano refuses to answer the question,” Detective Simonetti said.

  Beneath the table, Alex clenched her hands in her lap.

  Simonetti pulled out a manila folder from beneath his portfolio. “Gentlemen, these are Ms. Romano’s NYPD application forms, along with a more recent background check. A more extensive background check than the first one.”

  Oh no. Alex pressed her lips together, preparing for the worst. Her world was about to come crashing down. She would lose Gray. If she really went to jail, she would lose Nicky.

  And Nicky’s father could get custody.

  Simonetti held up a multipage document that Alex recognized as her application form. “Do you remember filling out this application form when you applied for the position of administrative aide, Ms. Romano?” Without waiting for a response, he went on. “Of course you do. After all, you signed it. Right below the paragraph stating that everything contained in this application is true to the best of your knowledge, and that providing false information to the New York City Police Department to obtain employment is not only grounds for your application being rejected but could form the basis for criminal charges.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Simonetti.” Gray threw down his pen. “We’ve already been through this.”

  “Not all of it.” Simonetti flipped to another page in the report. “On page three of your application you were asked to indicate your marital status, and if married, to write down your husband’s name. You checked the box indicating you were single.”

  Every muscle in Alex’s body went rigid.

  Simonetti glanced up from the report to stare at Alex. There was nothing she could say or do to change what was about to happen. As Detective Simonetti continued, her mind numbed with horror.

  “But you aren’t single, are you? You were married when you filled out this form. When you lied on this form. You were married then, and you are married now.”

  Alex stiffened even more and stared straight ahead. Beside her, Gray sat unmoving. She felt his laser-sharp gaze boring into her. The intensity of his anger and pain was palpable, as if he’d stabbed her with it through the heart.

  “Your husband’s name is Jan Mohammad,” Simonetti declared. “There is no divorce decree anywhere. You are still married.” He paused for dramatic effect, Alex was sure.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at Gray’s reaction. When she opened her eyes and glanced at him, he sat stiffly, staring at her with a cold, blank look.

  “Did you ever stop to think about why these questions are important?” Simonetti railed on. “It’s to make sure the NYPD doesn’t hire anyone who could pose a threat to the department, or to the public. And it is most certainly to avoid hiring someone who is working with known terrorists. Your husband has been on the Watchlist for six years. You’re married to a damned terrorist, and you were planted inside the department to feed critical, confidential information to them.” Simonetti stood and pounded his fist on the table. “Isn’t that true, Mrs. Mohammed?”

  Alex widened her eyes. She’d been expecting this evil revelation from her past to be revealed sooner or later, but now that the moment was here, she still wasn’t prepared for it.

  She couldn’t bear the look of anger and shock she knew was on Gray’s face. Instead, she stood and leaned across the table to lock angry glares with Simonetti. “I did no such thing, and don’t you dare call me by that name.” Being associated with Jan again in any way made her feel dirty, like she’d been tainted by evil and could never get clean.

  “Are you denying being married to Jan Mohammed?” Gray’s voice was calm, eerily controlled.

  “No.” Straightening, she looked at him, expecting to be faced with his anger, but what she saw scared her even more. There wasn’t a bit of emotion on his handsome face. “But I deny kn
owing for certain he is a terrorist or that he’s on the Watchlist. I don’t think he was when I married him, and I don’t think he was when I left him. I only know that he was no longer the kind, loving man I married. He’d morphed into an angry, unapproachable person who’d started hitting me, then pilfered my personal and business bank accounts, and threatened to take my child away.”

  Alex took a deep breath. Gray was slipping further away from her by the second. “I gathered what little I had left and fled to New York City. I changed my name and did everything I could to keep him from ever being able to find me or Nicky. Even though we were still technically married, from that moment I fled seven years ago I’ve had no contact with Jan.”

  She paused to take in Gray’s stiff posture in the chair. His jaw was clenched, his eyes icy, glacial even. “I wanted to tell you this. All of it. But not like this.”

  Never like this.

  “Like what, then?” Gray’s tone was as devoid of emotion as his face. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to tell me. What the hell were you waiting for?”

  “The timing was never right.” And now it never would be, she realized with utter despair. “When you found that money in my account, you shut me out. You didn’t trust me, and at first I didn’t trust you. I had no idea what to do. The only thing I knew for certain was that I’ve made so many bad decisions in my life I couldn’t afford to make another one. Keeping Nicky safe was too important, and I had to be sure.”

  “Sure of what?” Gray bit out.

  “That I could trust you.”

  “Trust me?” He gave her an incredulous look. “I never lied to you.”

  “I know,” she admitted, her shoulders sagging. “But you’re a cop and you have professional obligations. I didn’t know what you would do.”

  He remained silent for a moment. “I would have done everything possible to help you. I did do everything possible.”

  Again he was right. He’d done nothing but be straight with her the entire time. There was nothing more to say except to reiterate the truth. “I meant to tell you. I really did.”