Blood Money (NYPD Blue & Gold) Page 2

  As the medic applied a Band-Aid, Gray flinched, which only served to make his head throb even worse.

  “Make sure he gets that stitched up,” the medic said to Dom. A few moments later, she packed up her kit and disappeared through the door.

  Over Captain Kree’s shouting, Gray heard Dom grunt.

  “What?” Gray shifted to see Dom surveying the damage. He knew his partner well enough to know something was up.

  “The explosives must have been hidden behind the wall.” Dom pointed to the blast hole. “Someone did a kick-ass job of re-taping the new sheetrock.”

  Gray stood slowly, grabbing the doorjamb for support. Again, Dom reached out to steady him so they could both eyeball the damage.

  “The blast blew open a three-foot-wide hole,” Dom said, “but most of the exterior wall remained intact. The explosion was directed inward.”

  Their eyes met. “Anti-personnel bomb,” they both said at the same time.

  Pieces of sheetrock lay on the floor, along with wood from the building’s original beam structure. The opposite walls were peppered at differing heights with shrapnel, probably nuts, bolts, nails, and pieces of scrap metal, one of which had caught Gray in the back of the head.

  The laptop lay on the floor, its cover partially ripped off, the screen shattered by flying debris. Gray seriously doubted anything useful would be recovered from its hard drive.

  It occurred to him that Methopolis could have rigged the bomb before he died, but the assassin had been dead for eight months. So who called in the tip?

  Someone who wanted to kill police.

  Another assassin.

  “Smell that plastic?” Gray asked. From the distant look in his partner’s eyes, he could tell Dom was far away. “I’ve smelled it before. So have you.”

  In a heartbeat, Gray flashed back to a day fifteen years ago.

  Afghanistan. A hospital blown to bits. Innocent children shredded beyond recognition by shrapnel. His unit decimated.

  Because the woman I trusted betrayed me and everyone else in that hospital.

  Dom rubbed the side of his right leg. “Ah hell.”

  Gray knew there was a long, ugly scar on Dom’s right leg. He’d seen it when they worked out in the gym together. He’d also seen it the day of the explosion all those years ago, his leg bloody and torn. Whenever anyone asked him about it, Dom joked that an old girlfriend scratched him with her nails during mind-blowing sex. But Gray knew Dom’s humor was a cover for not only the physical pain but the pain of loss he’d suffered that day.

  At the sound of whipping fabric, they both turned to watch as two medics covered the FBI agent’s body with a white sheet.

  “Damn, but this shouldn’t have happened,” Gray said as he watched blood from the man’s wounds begin to soak through the fabric.

  With Dom’s assistance, he verified the rest of the entry team was unhurt. He also ordered the apartment vacated until the place could be thoroughly swept for additional explosive devices. The tenants who’d been evacuated would be pissed off at being homeless for another day, but better that than get blown to bits.

  After briefing Capt. Kree and Lt. Frye, Gray let Dom drive him to the hospital where a doctor stitched up the back of his head. They checked in on Pete, who had several busted ribs from being flung against the doorjamb. Despite Gray’s assurances to the contrary, Pete was still kicking himself over what had happened.

  “The FBI is out for blood over the loss of their agent.” Dom maneuvered the car out of the hospital parking lot. “They want in on the case.”

  “Christ.” Gray groaned. “It’s bad enough they think their guy getting killed was our fault, and now, in typical fed-fashion, they’re all up in our face telling us how to do our jobs.”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Dom agreed. “The lieutenant’s trying to calm them down and keep them off our asses.”

  Gray still felt like shit that they’d lost someone today. Never shoulda happened. “Lt. Frye oughta tell them it wasn’t the guy’s fault for pulling the blinds. It was his fault for being late for the briefing during which Pete warned everyone not to touch a damn thing.”

  They drove the next few minutes in silence as Dom headed downtown to Gray’s apartment on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

  Dom kept sending him sideways glances. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Not even close.

  Dom braked at a red light. “You think the janitor was the only one the Pyramid got to?”

  “Dunno.” Gray rubbed his forehead, which had finally stopped throbbing like a snare drum. “But I intend to find out.”

  A year ago, Gray’s sister, Detective Cassie Yates, had been working an undercover assignment when a contract hit was put on her. She’d been hiding out in upstate New York under a fictitious identity while he and Dom worked to discover who contracted the hit. During a phone conversation with Cassie, bugs were discovered in both his and Dom’s desk phones.

  Shortly thereafter, Ahmed Methopolis found Cassie and blew up her Trail Blazer. Luckily, she hadn’t been in it at the time, and Cassie’s now-husband, Chief Mike Flannery of the Hopewell Springs Police Department, killed Methopolis before he could finish the job.

  It hadn’t been much of a stretch that it was an inside job, so Gray worked with Internal Affairs to obtain bank subpoenas for select employees in One Police Plaza, where he and Dom worked. They focused on employees working night tours of duty, figuring too many people were around during the day for the job to go unnoticed. And they got lucky.

  Records showed a large cash deposit to One PP’s night janitor, who turned out to have a major gambling debt. The janitor fessed up that he was contacted via phone by an anonymous man with an accent. The man promised cash if he planted the bugs.

  “Did the banks get back to you on those other subpoenas?” Dom asked as he wove in and out of traffic.

  Gray shook his head, instantly regretting it when his head began throbbing again. “Not yet.” He braced his arm against the door as Dom turned left onto East 12th Street. “We should have them in a couple of days.”

  On a hunch, he and Internal Affairs recently served a second set of subpoenas for all remaining One PP employees’ bank records, including those of employees working the day shift. One PP was so integral to the city’s safety and security that Gray couldn’t ignore the possibility that the Pyramid had a backup plan in case the janitor didn’t work out, or might even go so far as to try to plant one of their own inside police headquarters.

  “Still got a date with Alex tomorrow night?” Dom asked as he braked for a bunch of teenagers emptying out of the Village East Cinema.

  “Yeah.” Gray grinned like an idiot. Only Alex could make him do that.

  From the moment Alexandra Romano, the Intelligence Unit’s Police Administrative Aide, had begun working at One PP ten months ago, Gray had been attracted to her like a heat-seeking missile locked on target. To say he was looking forward to his date with Alex was a colossal understatement. The only thing casting a dark pall over his impending date was the Pyramid.

  They’d tried to kill his sister, and now they’d killed a federal agent. They had to be stopped, and Gray was the one to do it.

  As Dom hung a right onto Avenue C, heading for the East Village, Gray vowed that if it was the last thing he did on this earth, he would bring down the Pyramid. He’d let nothing stand in his way.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Two

  Alex eyed the clock on the wall for what must have been the tenth time in the last hour. If she didn’t know better, she’d say the damn thing was ticking backward. One hour until…

  My first date with Gray.

  She glanced at his desk, but he wasn’t there and hadn’t been all day. Has he forgotten about our date? She certainly hadn’t. It had been the subject of her dreams for months, long before he’d even asked her out.

  “Hey, beautiful,” a deep voice said from behind her.

  Alex’s belly fluttered with excitemen
t, and she swiveled her chair to find Gray standing there, looking devastatingly handsome. As always. She took a deep breath, inhaling his aftershave. She loved the way he smelled. Truthfully, she loved everything about Detective Gray Yates.

  Short, thick dark brown hair set off a hard, chiseled bone structure. Beautiful, intense silver-gray eyes glittered down at her. At nearly six foot three, she guessed, he towered over her even when she wore heels. In a charcoal gray suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie, he could have modeled for GQ.

  He sat on the corner of her desk and smiled, though there was a hint of tension to his mouth. “Still on for tonight?”

  “Of course.” Alex worried that his smile was a cover-up for the emotional pain he carried over the FBI agent’s death. She knew it weighed heavily on him. “But I wasn’t sure you still wanted to go after what happened yesterday.”

  When she’d gotten news of the explosion, her mouth had gone dry and her chest had tightened with panic. Then word came down that Gray and Dom were all right and that Sgt. Miller would recover. She worried constantly about the danger the men in the squad faced on a daily basis, but where Gray was concerned…

  …that feeling was intensified by a factor of a thousand.

  He caressed her cheek with his big hand, and everywhere he touched, her skin tingled. “Canceling our date never crossed my mind. Especially, after what happened yesterday. Life’s too short to put off the good stuff.”

  Alex’s heart beat faster. “Does that put me in the category of ‘good stuff’?”

  “You”—Gray lowered his voice, his eyes flaring with heat—“are definitely in the category of ‘good stuff.’ And then some.”

  She put a hand to her chest and batted her eyelashes. “You’re just saying that to get me to go out with you. Oh wait, I already said yes, didn’t I?”

  “That you did.” Gray nodded. “Good thing, because I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”

  “I’m guessing that no woman has ever turned you down.” Not with that face and body.

  Gray massaged his chin and stared up at the ceiling, doing an admirable job of feigning deep thought. “Well, there was this one woman in Minnesota who—” He shook his head. “No, my mistake. She said yes in the end.”

  Alex playfully punched his bicep, which was thick with muscle and rock solid.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed his arm.

  “Puh-lease.” She rolled her eyes. “You barely felt that, and you know it. I, however, will probably have to ice my hand tonight.” She flexed her fingers in mock pain.

  “No need.” Gray reached for her hand and began massaging it with long, strong fingers, sending tremors of need and suppressed longing straight to those private places she’d nearly forgotten about. “Nice dress, by the way.” He dipped his gaze to take in the snug purple sheath and short matching sweater she’d worn for their date.

  Knowing where Gray’s gaze was inevitably focusing, Alex’s nipples hardened beneath her sweater.

  He grinned. “Not enough women wear dresses anymore.”

  She blinked to clear the visions flitting through her mind, mainly the ones involving Gray’s fingers massaging the rest of her. Naked, of course. “And not enough men hold doors open anymore,” she said when she’d regained her wits.

  Gray put on a pretend pout that was completely adorable on a face so masculine. “I hold doors open. I even pull out chairs at restaurants.” He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “No way.” She shook her head and tried to look serious. “This, I have to see.”

  “I look forward to showing you.” Gray squeezed her hand before releasing it.

  “I really would understand if you wanted to postpone.” She would, but she’d die if she had to wait another day. Ten months of foreplay is more than I can handle.

  But her interest in him was more than just sex and his witty repartee. All kidding aside, she was drawn to the man. Beneath that steely, bad-ass cop facade, he was a good, caring person, and those were labels she reserved for very few people.

  Still sitting on the edge of her desk, he leaned in. His face was so close to hers that for one infinitesimal second she thought he was about to kiss her right there in the middle of the squad room. She held her breath, not really knowing whether she wanted him to kiss her in front of their colleagues or not.

  “It could be my last day on earth and I wouldn’t cancel our date.” As he stood, a smile tugged at his lips.

  The intensity of his words both excited and frightened her. The last time she’d fallen for a guy it had ended disastrously. But something about Gray Yates told her this would be different, that this man could be something wonderful.

  “What about your head?” A small section of dark hair on the back of his head was shaved and a white bandage concealed what she knew were sutures from getting hit with shrapnel in the explosion. “Does it hurt much?”

  “I’m fine.” He touched the back of his head. “Be ready at five sharp.” He winked then disappeared into Lt. Frye’s office.

  Even though she could no longer see him, Alex continued staring at Lt. Frye’s open door, hoping to catch another glimpse of Gray’s broad shoulders. Tonight had the makings of a very special first date, and it had been more than seven years since she’d had feelings this strong for anyone.

  Another man’s deep chuckle snapped her out of her reverie. Gray’s partner, Detective Dominick Carew, stood in front of her desk, his blue eyes twinkling. “You guys are so hot for each other, it’s comical.”

  “Are we that obvious?”

  “And then some.” He grinned, and while Alex had eyes only for Gray, the lady-killer charm oozing from Dom’s pores was a palpable thing. “Be good to him. He deserves it.” Dom headed back to his desk.

  Now it was Alex’s turn to laugh and shake her head. She didn’t care who saw them mooning over each other. Enough time had passed, and she was more than ready to take that long, perilous walk without a lifeline or a safety net. She needed to move on. After what she’d been through at the hands of another man—the pain and suffering, then running and hiding—she deserved it.

  Gray held the door open for Alex as she stepped inside La Rosa, a quaint Italian café near Soho. When he helped her out of her coat, his fingers brushed the back of her neck, shoulders, and arms, sending a flush of sensuous warmth through her entire body. While he carried her coat to the coat check desk, she took stock of the restaurant’s warm, inviting interior.

  Antique crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the walls were painted tastefully in a faux finish designed to mimic marble. Floor-to-ceiling red velvet drapery curtained off sections of the large room for intimacy. Tucked away in one of the rear corners was a small dance floor where an elderly couple swayed gently to the romantic Italian opera playing from overhead speakers.

  Alex hadn’t even known this place existed and wondered how she could have missed such a little gem. She gave herself a mental smack. The reason for that was obvious.

  You don’t have money to go out to eat, especially in such a nice restaurant.

  With her tight budget, those days were a thing of the past.

  “Do you like it?” Gray asked as he came up behind her, the scent of his cologne a tantalizing mix of spice and musk.

  “I love it, and it smells heavenly.” She took a deep breath, savoring not only Gray’s scent, but garlic and spices drifting through the air.

  “Table for two?” The hostess, a very pretty brunette woman in a tight black dress, stood near Gray. Closer than she needed to be, in Alex’s opinion. If she was any closer, her breasts would be kissing his lapels.

  “We have a reservation,” Gray said. “Yates.”

  Alex appreciated the fact that while the woman gave him a not too discreet once-over, he didn’t seem to notice. Or he didn’t care to.

  “Your table is ready.” The hostess flashed him a brilliant smile with an obvious come-hither look in her eyes. “Follow me, please.”

  As
they followed the hostess deeper into the restaurant, Gray put his hand at the small of Alex’s back and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “My father took my mother here for their first date. I couldn’t think of a better place for ours.”

  Touched as she was at Gray’s sentimental selection of the restaurant, she nearly giggled as the hostess repeatedly glanced over her shoulder to see if he was watching her tightly clad, prominently sashaying buttocks. She also couldn’t help but notice that virtually every woman in the place—waitresses and patrons—cast an appreciative eye at Gray as they walked past. Not that she could blame them. With his tall, dark good looks, a woman would have to be dead not to notice the man.

  When they reached a small table tucked away in a corner, Gray held out Alex’s chair. The hostess hovered solicitously at his side, holding two menus and a wine list. After they sat, she gave one menu to Alex and the other to Gray, along with the wine list. “If there’s anything you need,” she pointedly said to Gray, “please don’t hesitate to ask. My name is Melinda.”

  “Thank you, Melinda,” Gray answered politely as he stared directly into Alex’s eyes, a slight tug at the corners of his mouth. When Melinda departed, he rolled his eyes. “I thought she’d never leave.”

  “I feel so unwanted.” Alex put her hand to her chest, feigning indignation. “She has eyes only for you. Along with every other woman in this restaurant, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “And in case you didn’t notice,” Gray said as he flipped open the wine list, “every man in the place was drooling over you. They’re all jealous as hell because you’re my date, not theirs.”

  “That is so not true.” Alex opened the menu, suddenly embarrassed. She’d never liked being the focus of attention. Unless it was Gray’s attention. “Nobody even looked at me, and I prefer it that way.”

  Gray set down the wine list and seemed to study her for a moment. “That’s one of the many things I like about you. You’re completely oblivious of how incredibly beautiful you are. And if you don’t want to be noticed, you’d better stop wearing that dress.”