Bayview Heights Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

you’re the one who lured me to Bayview
Heights.”
    The old man smiled. “Yup, I am.”
    “Then threw me into the lion’s den.”
    Stonehouse scratched his chin. “Sorry about
that. I needed a juvie officer after Gifford died.”
    Mitch winced at his friend’s tone. “Hal, that
wasn’t your fault.”
    “He was inexperienced. I should’ve done
something different.”
    “It’s in the past. Let it go.”
    But even as he said the words, Mitch knew all
too well that the past could be a living, breathing entity that
wouldn’t allow you to escape no matter how hard you tried.
    Hal looked at him. “Least I don’t have to
worry about you.”
    Which is the only reason I agreed to this
purgatory. To ease the pressure on you.
Though Hal Stonehouse
had mentored him from the age of twenty, the old man still didn’t
know why Mitch avoided working with kids. No one did, except Kurt,
who knew only sketchy details. When Mitch had come back from
Vietnam, he’d refused to talk about his experiences to anybody. All
Hal knew was that Mitch had been in Southeast Asia at the very end
of the war and had come back with the scars and baggage that many
vets had brought home.
    “So, how’s Smith?” Stonehouse asked. “She’s a
tough one. Didn’t know you’d get assigned to her.”
    “Oh, she’s tough, all right. And sassy. And
manipulative. And a regular mother hen with her little chicks.”
    Hal’s white eyebrows rose. “Must’ve hit a
nerve with you. I never heard you go on about anybody that
way.”
    Mitch concentrated on his sandwich. “Don’t
start, Hal.”
    “Okay, okay.” His moustache twitched when he
said, “But you gotta admit, she’s a looker.”
    “She’s okay. A little tall for my taste. Lots
of angles. I like my women soft.”
    “Not me. Haddie was as tough as they come.
Only kind of woman that could be married to a cop.”
    Mitch snorted. “Marriage isn’t an institution
I’m fond of, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” He glanced around and
his eyes focused on the doorway to the back room, which functioned
as a pool hall. He saw a flash of red the same color as the dress
Cassie Smith had been wearing today. Mitch started to rise. “Hold
on a second, will you, Hal? I’ll be right back.”
    “Naw, I gotta go, anyway. I’ll see you at the
station.”
    After Hal left, Mitch stood and checked the
clock. Two-thirty. He and Hal were having a late lunch. Could
school be out already?
    Straightening his suit coat and buttoning the
front for good measure, he walked to the back room.
    And couldn’t believe his eyes. Bent over the
pool table, with her back to him, was the illustrious Ms. Cassie
Smith. Her dress—which he’d thought too short for school,
anyway—was creeping up her thighs. He had to tear his eyes away
from the generous length of leg exposed by her position. Across the
table, Bad News Battaglia, as the department had dubbed him, was
grinning at her. Neither spotted Mitch, so he eased back into the
doorway to remain undetected.
    “This is your last chance, Teach. If you
don’t bag this one, I’m off scot-free.”
    “Can it, Battaglia. You’re just trying to
break my concentration.”
    Confidently, she took an impossible shot off
the side, banking it right into the pocket. “Yes!” she said as she
stood, raising her right fist into the air. “I won.”
    Battaglia mumbled something under his breath.
She giggled girlishly, then circled the table and hugged the boy.
Mitch was discomfited by the gesture.
    “Don’t worry, kiddo, it’s only for ten
weeks,” she said, ruffling his hair. “You can handle Captain
Lansing that long.”
    Though Battaglia tried to look disgusted, his
body language indicated relief. It took a minute for Mitch to
realize what had happened here. But he must be wrong. This teacher
couldn’t really have bet a kid on a pool game to get him back to
school.
    “Um, Teach,” Battaglia said as his eyes met
Mitch’s. “Don’t say any more.”
    Cassie looked at