Page 72 of Blood Money

…

“Goddammit!” Gray punched the dashboard.

Pain shot from his hand to his fist.

“Why the hell didn’t she wait for us?” His shoulder slammed into the car window as Dom cranked the steering wheel hard left onto the West Side Drive at nearly fifty miles an hour.

He looked at the locator’s digital display in the briefcase on his lap. The signal was getting weaker and weaker by the second. Wherever she was, Alex was leaving the unit’s range.

My fault. My fault! If anything happens to her…

“All units,” Gray shouted over the radio frequency dedicated for this op. He eased his finger off the mic. “Shit.” No way would the other teams make it from Queens to the new meet location in time to assist.

In a split-second, he analyzed the only remaining tactical options.

Requesting assistance over an open frequency for any available marked unit would broadcast to the world that Alex was cooperating with the police, risking not only her life but Nicky’s. Not making that request when he knew damn well in his gut that something was dead wrong about this whole situation could also get her killed.

Gray switched over the frequency and clicked the mic. “Dispatch, Four-six Intel requesting immediate assistance in the vicinity of Broadway and Seventy-ninth.” He waited to hear what units were nearby. Dom snaked the car expertly through the traffic, hitting the air horn periodically to clear a path. Even with his partner’s top-notch driving, they were still at least three minutes out, maybe more.

A dispatcher came over the radio. “Four-six, multiple units already at that location responding to an explosion. What is your request?”

“What the hell?” Dom glanced at Gray.

Gray clicked the mic. “Any injuries?” Since they’d been monitoring a tactical channel for the meet, they’d missed the calls for the explosion.

“Ten-four, buses en route.”

Alex.

This was too much coincidence. The thought of Alex lying there, shrapnel embedded in her body, bleeding out on the street…

“She can’t be dead.” He tried to convince himself that was true. Beside him, Dom flicked on the lights and steady sirens concealed beneath the vehicle’s grill. “None of this makes sense. Why would they want to kill her? If they did, they’d get nothing out of her. And why the change of meet?”

“Only one reason.” Dom cranked the steering wheel hard right.

“Yeah, they grabbed her. But why?” Gray dragged his hand down his face. The idea of Alex in the hands of the Pyramid had him wanting to punch something.

A minute later, Dom turned onto Seventy-ninth Street and screeched to a stop, like the other fifty cars ahead of them.

“Motherf— We’d need a tank to get through this traffic. Pull over,” Gray ordered.

One last parting glance at the locator monitor confirmed his fears. The red dot that was Alex was gone.

Gray shoved the case to the floor and had the passenger door open before Dom came to a complete stop. Taking off at a dead run, he tore down the sidewalk, pushing his way through the thickening crowd of onlookers. Along the way, he caught sight of the rental car Alex had been driving, now abandoned on the street, the driver’s side door open.

He stopped to check inside the vehicle. Empty. The envelope containing the dummy documents was also gone.

Alex’s cell phone lay on the seat.

Footsteps pounded behind him as Dom caught up. “Anything?”

“Negative. Let’s go.” They took off running again, winding their way between cars and people until they had no choice but to stop and take in the chaos.

Squad cars blocked traffic in all directions. Red and blue strobes flashed from nearly a dozen patrol cars. EMTs attended to the injured. Buses lined up, waiting to take victims to local hospitals.

“You take this side,” Gray shouted to Dom. He ran across the street, searching the faces of the injured victims sitting or lying down on the sidewalks. None of them were Alex. Gray’s emotions alternated between relief and fear.

Relief that Alex wasn’t among the injured.