Page 89 of Blood Money

Gray shot Simonetti a steely look cold enough to freeze the other detective’s balls off. “First of all, the report is far from finalized. We only got the thumb drive less than forty-eight hours ago. Second, as an IA detective you won’t automatically be provided with details about what’s in that report, except insofar as it evidences Alex’s cooperation.”

“Detective Simonetti,” Lt. Frye interjected. “Your presence at this meeting was granted solely because you assured me that you had information relevant to this investigation, and because Detective Chavez is tied up in court today. Hold your tongue until my detectives are finished.”

Simonetti scowled and crossed his arms.

Gray tapped a pen on the table, all the while staring at Simonetti. “Based upon the fact that Alex cooperated fully with the department and gained valuable information on the Pyramid—at great risk to her life—I suggest you rethink charging her with anything.”

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?