Page 16 of Blood Money

Alex clenched her jaw. She deserved an explanation. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and Gray was treating her like Typhoid Mary.

Taking a deep breath, she stood then smoothed out her navy-blue skirt and white silk blouse. She approached Gray’s desk, her heels clicking on the floor. The closer she got to his desk, the faster her heart beat.

“Gray, are you all right?” she asked, now standing directly in front of him. “I didn’t hear from you all weekend, and you haven’t said a word to me since last week. I’ve been worried about you.” She gave him a tentative smile, having no idea what to expect.

Piercing, icy-cold eyes stared up at her without a hint of pleasantry. Definitely not the warm, gentle gaze that could jumpstart her heart. “I’m fine,” he said in an impassive voice then stood and grabbed his coffee mug and a file on his desk.

“Wait.” When she caught his arm, thick muscles bunched beneath her fingers.

He jerked from her grasp. “I have a meeting.” Like his gaze, his voice held no warmth.

Hastily, she looked around the squad room, thankful most of the morning shift hadn’t arrived yet. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

He looked past her, taking a deep breath that tightened his shirt and jacket over his broad chest. “Because I—” He shook his head subtly. For an infinitesimally brief moment, his eyes softened, and he seemed on the verge of saying more. An instant later, that frigid visage was firmly back in place, like blinds being yanked down to block out the morning sunlight. He clenched his jaw. “Let it go, Alex.”

“Let it go?” She shook her head. “What the hell does that mean?”

The conference room door next to Lt. Frye’s office opened, and Alex caught a quick glimpse of several men she didn’t recognize. Without another word, Gray headed for the room and shut the door behind him.

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat. Gray’s brush-off and the words he’d said cut deeply. All her life, people told her how incredibly smart she was. So how could I have been so off-the-charts wrong about someone?

Again.

She glanced around the squad room to find Dom eyeing her with something akin to contempt. And she hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve it from him, either.

What is with these guys? Like Gray, Dom rose and went into Lt. Frye’s conference room. When the door shut with a solid thump, she felt a discernible chill. She walked briskly back to her desk and dropped into her chair.

Voices filled the room as the other detectives on the morning shift began arriving, extending greetings her way. She smiled, pretended that everything was okeydokey, and did her best to busy herself with work.

Ignoring the alluring smell of fresh coffee wafting through the air, Alex glanced at the conference room door, knowing Gray was in there. She wondered what was so important that they would schedule a meeting before the regular day shift began. It was certainly not the norm. Then again, after last week’s explosion they were probably critiquing everything that went down.

Turning her attention to typing yet another memo for the lieutenant, Alex was startled by the vibration of her cell phone. Taking personal calls during work hours was generally taboo, but Lt. Frye cut her some slack—she needed to monitor her phone in the event that Nicky’s condition required her to leave work unexpectedly.

She pulled the phone from her bag. The number on the digital display was one she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

“Alexandra Romano?” a thickly accented female voice asked.

“Yes.” Alex gripped the phone tighter. No one with a Middle Eastern accent had called her in many years.

“You spent some of my money. Now it is time to earn it.”

“Who is this?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“My name is of no consequence, Alexandra. Or should I call you Aileen?”

Alex widened her eyes and fear shot to her belly.

How does she know my name? My real name?

“You were paid twenty thousand dollars for a favor,” the voice continued. “It’s time to make good on it.”

Alex flicked her gaze around the squad room to see if anyone noticed how freaked she was by the call. Luckily, the detectives were already ensconced in their work and no one was paying attention.

“What favor?” she asked in a hushed tone. “I don’t know you, and I won’t do anything for you. Whoever you are, you can have your damned money back. Every penny. I just need a little time to get it.”

What in the world is going on here?

The woman laughed. “Your naiveté is understandable, but that is not how this works. You don’t have enough money to pay us back, so you will do us a favor. Your son’s life depends on it, in more ways than one.”