Blood Money (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Time to get started on that will.

  She pulled out a stack of documents, including a dozen envelopes bound by a rubber band, and plunked them onto the table. The rubber band promptly broke, sending the envelopes scattering over the table.

  Alex groaned, and her head began to ache.

  With no money for a lawyer, she’d have to do more online research on the preparation of legal wills, but her capacity to absorb or make sense of anything else was maxed-out for the night.

  Luckily, Nicky didn’t fight her as she settled him into bed early, allowing her to take the time for a much-needed hot bath. When she slid into the tub, she moaned as the warm water and steam instantly began easing the tension from her muscles. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the delicate scent of the freesia bath oil she’d dribbled into the water. After a few minutes, she began to think more clearly.

  As bad as the evidence against her was, the worst part of today’s meeting was confronting Gray’s anger. In a very short period of time, he’d become important to her, and it mattered what he thought. It mattered more than she wanted to admit.

  After only one official date, she’d begun to have hope. Hope that he was a man she could fall in love with, one who might have it in his heart to be a good father to Nicky. Gray was a man she not only admired and respected, but the only man she ever dreamed of.

  Alex lifted her leg and draped it over the edge of the tub. Droplets of water trickled down her thigh in tiny rivulets.

  Her dreams of Gray alternated between the sweet and thoughtful moments when all they did was hold hands and share their day, and the kind of hot, steamy ones in which she was peeling off every stitch of his clothing to reveal the muscular body even a suit and tie couldn’t hide. Those dreams inevitably ended just short of bliss, with him stroking her naked body until she woke in a hot sweat, her unfulfilled sexual desires leaving her craving his touch. After today, dreams were all she would ever have of him.

  Alex choked down a sob. Gray really was lost to her. There was nothing she could think of that would ever redeem her in his eyes. She’d lied about who she was and used illegal money. It seemed she’d made mistakes in her past life and her present one.

  This time Alex did let out a soft sob, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  I’ve done nothing but make one bad decision after the other, and now Nicky might be in danger.

  God, she’d been stupid. But she’d had to leave Nicky’s father seven years ago. She’d been punched in the face and stomach one too many times.

  How could I not see the evil lurking inside Nicky’s father?

  Alex eased down farther into the water, allowing it to completely cover her body up to her neck. It was only a matter of time before Simonetti dug up that juicy little tidbit from her former life, and when he did—she’d be screwed. Nicky’s father would find them, she was sure of it. He was tenacious and had probably never stopped looking for her. Anything that hit the news or became a matter of public record would reveal a trail directly back to her.

  She needed to leave town. Get a new name and another job. But she still wouldn’t be able to use her real diplomas, licenses, and resume, and without them she had no official education and no employment history. She’d never be able to earn enough income to pay Nicky’s medical expenses.

  She watched as drops from the tub’s faucet created tiny rings that expanded until they reflected off the inside walls of the tub.

  Once again she was on her own. Even Gray couldn’t help her now. Loyalty, professionalism, and honor were his trademark characteristics, making him the best man she’d ever known—and the one man whose job it might be to destroy her.

  Alex would take Nicky and run if she had to, but Gray would find her wherever she went. She knew that without a doubt. His docket had very few unsolved cases, due not only to his keen investigative skills and relentless tenacity but to the long list of informants he’d cultivated.

  She abruptly sat up. Water trickling down her bare skin made soft tinkling sounds as it hit the bath water.

  Some of the most important cases the NYPD solved were not done so by receiving information volunteered by good, law-abiding citizens. Those people were not normally in a position to have information valuable enough to convict the bad guys.

  Informants were.

  And they got paid for it.

  From what she’d heard today, the NYPD, FBI, and HSI all thought her information on the Pyramid and what she could do for them was valuable. Maybe she was more important to them than she realized.

  She eased back down into the water. It was time to wise up and get a backbone. Time to stop acting like a helpless victim and do something proactive. It was a risk, since most cooperators looking at jail time didn’t get paid. Their reward was either a lesser sentence or a stay-out-of-jail card. But the Pyramid was big league, and if the authorities wanted her help that badly, then she wanted something in return. They could say no, but it was worth a shot.

  A knock sounded at the front door. Alex bolted upright, sending water flying onto the floor.

  No one came calling this late. Something was wrong. Given the events of the day, her heart rate kicked up.

  She stepped out of the tub and donned the only garment nearby, a short lavender silk robe hanging on a hook. The smooth silk clung to her damp skin as she padded silently to the front door. When she looked through the peephole, her heart slammed even harder against the inside of her ribs. There was a man standing in the hallway—a very large man. With half the hallway lights broken or missing, his face was obscured by shadow.

  The knock at the door sounded again, louder this time. Alex’s pulse raced. Another look through the peephole and she still couldn’t identify the man.

  Oh my God. It can’t be.

  She clutched the lapels of her robe tightly to her throat and backed away from the door. Her pulse skyrocketed, and she could barely breathe.

  The Pyramid. They’re here. They know I talked to the police and…

  …they’re here to kill me.

  …

  Gray pounded again on the flimsy door. “Alex, it’s Gray. I need to talk to you.”

  He knew she was standing just inside the door. He’d seen a shadow move across the threshold. Though he wasn’t certain, he thought he heard Alex say, Thank God.

  Clicking echoed in the hallway as the interior lock turned, then the deadbolt. The door cracked open a few inches, the security chain still in place.

  What security? If I pounded any harder, the damned door would probably fall off its hinges.

  Alex’s face appeared in the opening, her eyes fearful and wary.

  “I need to talk to you,” he repeated. “It’s important.”

  Alex stared at him, and for a moment, Gray thought she’d slam the door in his face. The door partly closed as she slid the security chain away then opened the door. He couldn’t move. Alex clutched a thin, purple robe to her throat. The fabric was damp in places, as if she’d just stepped out of the bath. The sound of the building’s outer door slamming shut echoed in the hallway, sending a breeze past him into the apartment. Gray’s gaze was drawn to Alex’s chest as her nipples tightened beneath the thin robe.

  “Are you coming in?” She shivered, her nipples pressing even more against the sexy garment. “I’m cold.”

  I know.

  Gray cleared his throat and stepped inside. Alex shut the door behind him and reengaged the locks. “If I didn’t tell you before, your building’s security sucks.” Understatement. “The front door lock is a joke, and half the lights in the hallway are out.”

  Alex exhaled a tight breath. “Is that why you came here tonight? To criticize me for not being able to afford a swanky Upper East Side apartment?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Or did you come here to arrest me?” As Alex planted her fists at her hips, her robe gaped open, revealing the soft curves of her breasts.

  Gray nearly choked on his tongue at how muc
h of her smooth, creamy skin was exposed. In an attempt to regain composure, he lowered his gaze to her feet. Bad idea. Her calves and thighs were long and slender. Even her toes were perfect, painted in shimmery purple. When he looked up, she’d crossed her arms.

  “I need to put on some clothes.” She walked down the hallway and through an open doorway, leaving the scent of something flowery in her wake.

  “Holy shit,” Gray muttered, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Alex opening the door wearing next to nothing was so not part of the plan tonight.

  Get a grip. She’s not for you. Not anymore.

  To keep from imagining Alex stripping out of that skimpy little robe, Gray took his first real look around her apartment, pleasantly surprised at what he saw, particularly in the living room.

  The parts of the walls that weren’t painted in a soothing light blue were covered by shelving crammed end-to-end with books. He inspected one bank of shelves that housed old classics, such as Moby Dick, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Ben Hur.

  Other shelves displayed many of the modern classics, including several series of police novels. Gray smiled at that discovery.

  The far wall shelving was covered not only with more books, but interspersed here and there with a vase, a basket, a framed photo, and colorful ceramic animal figurines. He didn’t know shit about interior decoration, but for an old apartment in a so-so part of town, the place really did have a warm, polished look. Like a professional had decorated the room.

  Closer inspection revealed textbooks: Painting and Faux Finishes. Refurbishing Antiques. Color and Fabrics. Two other shelves were taken up by architecture and engineering books. He pulled one from the shelf, Architecture of New York City, and flipped through the pages filled with diagrams and photos of turn-of-the-century buildings, including barns and warehouses. These were professional manuals, not coffee table books. The discovery had him wondering exactly who and what Alex—correction, Aileen Alexanderson—had been in her previous life.

  As he returned the book to its place, several other books on the far wall caught his attention. Childhood Leukemia. Pediatric Oncology. Both books looked worn out, as if someone had read them many times over.

  Gray tugged a book from the shelf, Henry and the White Wolf. He flipped through it, realizing it was a special book written for kids with cancer. Christ, he couldn’t imagine having a child with cancer, or what Alex and Nicky were going through.

  After replacing the book, he sat heavily on the sofa. A celery-green velvet sofa. That, too, fit with the decor. Gray shook his head. He never would have imagined that hidden inside this crummy, dingy apartment building, Alex had created a veritable oasis for herself and her son. Not only was she incredibly smart and well-read, but she was an amazing interior decorator. That explained how she’d managed to convert One PP into a Christmas showplace on such a tight budget last year.

  On the coffee table was an old metal box, its lid open. Inside the box was a stack of envelopes on top of a pile of documents. He glanced down the hallway in the direction of Alex’s bedroom then picked up a blue folder and opened it. Inside was a diploma from Stanford University dated thirteen years ago. Aileen Alexanderson had graduated with dual majors in architectural design and civil engineering.

  Well, fuck. She really does have secrets.

  But Gray was sure that wasn’t what she was hiding. There was still something else she hadn’t divulged. Something big.

  The remaining documents in the metal box had his investigative juices flowing, but the detective side of him warred with the inappropriateness of prying further into Alex’s private affairs. Then again, she was now a police cooperator in a major investigation, and as the lead detective on the case, he had a duty and an obligation to know everything about her.

  Admit it, Yates. You still want to know her.

  He grabbed another folder from the box and flipped it open. It was another diploma, also from Stanford University. In addition to her impressive undergrad degree, Alex had a Master’s in structural engineering.

  He froze as a muffled sound came to him from down the hallway. When Alex didn’t immediately appear, he grabbed the next envelope in the box. He tugged out the wrinkled letter, focusing on a number in the middle of the page. An IQ score. Alex’s. The number was one fifty-five. Beside the score was the word genius.

  Again, Gray shook his head. Part of him was shocked at everything he’d just learned, and yet it didn’t totally surprise him. He knew she was smart, but he hadn’t known the incredible depths of that intelligence. She’d had professional licenses, and probably a good job that she left behind to protect her son. Alex had played it smart, taking no chances by using her professional degrees to obtain employment here in New York City, something that would have enabled anyone to find her. Gray had a grudging respect for what she’d accomplished in her past, and for the sacrifices she was making for her son.

  As an engineer or an architect, she could be raking in one helluva salary, living large in a beautiful house. Yet she’d given it all up to start over with nothing. Gray snorted softly at the irony. The woman probably had more brains than anyone else at One PP. He’d thought he knew her, but the bottom line was that he didn’t know her at all.

  Hearing the bedroom door shut, he stuffed the envelopes and documents back into the metal box and stood in front of the fireplace. He picked up a framed photo of Nicky wearing a powder blue outfit and smiling ear to ear.

  “He was four in that photo.” Alex came to stand beside him. “That was just before he was diagnosed with leukemia.”

  “I’m sorry for what you’re both going through.” Gray put the photo back on the mantle. He glanced at Alex, relieved that she’d changed into jeans and a bulky blue sweater. One that covered nearly all her enticing skin and hid her sleek, curvaceous body.

  Alex shrugged. “It’s part of our lives now. Like a bad roommate we can’t evict. We’ve learned to live with it and hope that one day we can manage it, if not eradicate it.” She paused. “I just want him to be happy, you know?”

  One look into her glittering, sad blue eyes and Gray nearly forgot the crimes Alex had committed. More like he wanted to forget…but couldn’t. And no way could he ignore the possibility that she’d been using him the entire time they’d known each other.

  He looked at another framed photo on the mantle. In it, a younger Alex wore a graduation gown and was flanked on one side by an older man with dark features, and on the other by a woman who shared Alex’s light features and graceful bone structure. All three were smiling. “Your parents?”

  “Yes.” She plucked the frame from the mantle and smiled. “My high school graduation photo. It was pretty much our last happy moment together.”

  “When did they die?” Gray asked, sensing they’d passed. Alex’s smile disappeared, and he instantly regretted the question. But everyone’s past shapes their future, and he wanted to know who she had been and what made her who she’d become.

  Alex returned the photo to the mantle. “About a month into my freshman year at college, my father had a stroke. He lingered for a few years before passing away, but he was never the same. During that time, my mother’s health also deteriorated, and she died a few months after my father did. I don’t think she wanted to live without him.”

  Something about the sad look in her eyes gave him the impression that the death of her parents was as raw and painful as if it had happened yesterday.

  Gray was thankful that his parents were alive and well. It also made him realize that Alex had been alone and without family support for quite some time. Another testament to her tenacity and ability to adapt and survive.

  “I still miss them.” Her voice had a sad note to it. “Family is everything to me.”

  “Same here,” Gray said under his breath, knowing he’d die for his family.

  A moment of silence passed between them, during which Gray hoped she would tell him more about her old life and her family. Specifica
lly, about Nicky’s father.

  “Earlier today, you said you didn’t want to talk.” Alex turned to face him, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “What’s changed?”

  Gray ran his hand through his hair. Alex clearly had no intention of making this easy on him. “Can we sit down?” He gestured to the green sofa.

  When he sat at one end of the sofa, she sat at the other. As far away from him as she could get. She snapped the lid shut on the metal box, then narrowed her eyes, suspicion simmering in their depths. In that moment Gray realized she knew he’d looked at the documents in the box.

  “Did you find everything you were looking for?” Her tone was accusatory.

  “I had no idea what you left behind. Or that money was so tight. You should have let me know what was going on. I could have given you money.” Gray realized just how much he would have given to help her out.

  “I don’t need your pity or your money.” Rising from the sofa, Alex began to pace in front of the fireplace. “I’ve been on my own for seven years, and I’ve managed fine without anyone’s help. This,” she said, sweeping her arm to encompass her tiny apartment, “is mine. I pay my own bills, so I don’t owe anyone anything.”

  “Dammit, Alex.” Gray exhaled through his nose. “This isn’t about your independence. This is about purchasing fake ID, lying to the police department about who you are, then using funds supplied by a professional assassin.”

  “How many times do I have to say it?” she all but shouted, lowering her voice as she glanced down the hallway. “I didn’t know where that money came from. If I had, I would never have used it. I didn’t do anything wrong.” She winced. “Except about the documents and lying on my application forms. But that was never with the intent to do harm. I just needed to get lost, and I needed a job with health insurance.”