Page 35 of Blood Money

“Nothing, sweetheart.” She forced a smile. “I forgot I have to pick up some milk at the grocery store.”

Tugging on Nicky’s hand, they headed back down the hall to Mrs. Frattiani’s apartment, Nicky’s mitt safely tucked under her arm. Alex knocked on the door. When it opened, the old woman must have picked up Alex’s sense of urgency.

Her gray brows bunched. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I forgot to get milk plus a few other things at the grocery store. Would you mind watching Nicky a bit longer?”

“Not at all, dear.” The old woman smiled as Nicky scurried inside, no doubt happy to resume whatever game he’d been playing with Mrs. Frattiani.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Just before turning to leave, Alex stopped. “Mrs. Frattiani, did you and Nicky take his mitt from my apartment?”

“No, dear.” The old woman shook her head. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing.” Again, Alex gave a forced smile, sensing the old woman was savvy enough to know something was amiss but discreet enough not to press the matter.

After leaving Nicky with Mrs. Frattiani, Alex returned to her apartment and unlocked the door. She turned the knob slowly. The door creaked as it always did. She hesitated before entering, not really sure what to expect. The place looked the same. None of the furniture had been moved. Nothing ransacked. The apartment even smelled the same. Stuffy, since the windows were always closed during the winter.

A quick tour of hers and Nicky’s bedrooms confirmed no one was inside save her. Yet someone had been inside, grabbed the mitt, and dumped it in the hallway where Alex would be sure to see it.

She sat on a kitchen chair and gently set the mitt on the table. For a few minutes, she stared at it then finally picked it up, turning it over and over several times before she saw it. The paper jammed deep inside one of the finger pockets.

With trembling fingers, Alex pulled out the note. As she unfolded it and got her first look at the words typed on the white paper, her heart nearly stopped. She could swear, just for a second, that it actually did.

Good girl. Do as I say and all will be well. If not…

In that instant, she knew.

The Pyramid had been in my home.

Gasping, she dropped the note and watched it drift to the floor. She shouldn’t have touched it. There might be fingerprints. No, an organization such as the Pyramid would be too smart to leave prints. The full impact of the note and the use of her son’s toy to facilitate the message were not lost on Alex. The bastards were telling her they could get to her and Nicky any time they chose. It was a warning not to betray them.

Or they would kill Nicky.

She stood so abruptly the chair she was sitting on tumbled backward, clattering onto the floor. She grabbed her cell phone from her shoulder bag and punched in Gray’s name. She was about to hit the call button but stopped. They could have bugged her apartment. The last thing she wanted was to alert the Pyramid that she was cooperating with the NYPD.

Trying not to scream in panic, Alex pulled a sandwich baggie from a kitchen drawer and tucked it beneath her sleeve. Returning to the table, she leaned over and, while righting the chair that had fallen down, grabbed the note from the floor. Using the table as cover—in case her apartment really was bugged—she slipped it quickly into her pocket. Then she left her apartment, walked down the hallway, and out the front door onto the street.

A few minutes later, she pushed open the glass door of the little bodega where she picked up basic items like milk and cereal. When she reached the rear section of the store in front of the dairy case, she tugged the plastic baggie from beneath her sleeve and carefully deposited the note inside. Then she pulled out her cell phone and called Gray.

“Alex.” Gray’s strong, deep voice came through clearly. “Did they call?” When she didn’t respond immediately, he asked, “Are you all right?”

“No.” In a shaky voice, she told him about finding the mitt outside her apartment and the note tucked inside. Lastly, she told Gray about her fear that her apartment was bugged.

“Stay calm,” he said. “I’m still at One PP. I’ll grab a tech guy, and we’ll sweep your apartment. I need you to go home, and in forty minutes, go to the rear service door and let us in.”

Alex couldn’t believe this was happening. What had she gotten herself into?

You know the answer. You did something stupid, and now you’re involved with a group of cold-blooded murderers.

“Okay.” Alex was about to hang up when Gray’s voice stopped her.

“I’ll get you through this. I promise.” Then he was gone.

As she slipped the phone back into her purse, the danger and uncertainty of hers and Nicky’s life slammed home. She tightened her coat belt then hustled out the bodega door and back to her apartment. During the two-block walk, she vowed that if they really made it through this, somehow she’d take charge of her life again. If that meant leaving the country, so be it.

Back in her apartment, she took off her coat and waited. The ticking hands on the antique wall clock seemed to take forever to move. Briefly, she considered calling Daisy and confiding to her friend what was going on. Normally, they shared everything. Not now. Alex could never tell Daisy the truth. Not only would her friend blow a floral gasket, but it was too dangerous to put someone else in harm’s way. Worrying over Nicky’s safety was bad enough.

When forty minutes had passed since she’d spoken with Gray, Alex went back out the door, down the rear hallway steps, and unlocked the service door. As promised, Gray, Dom, and another man who seemed familiar stood outside. All three wore workmen’s coveralls. Dom and the other guy carried toolboxes. Gray slung a duffel bag over his shoulder and led the way inside.