Bayview Heights Trilogy (30 page)

Maybe, but it wasn’t just that. He
should
give her up. He
should
sacrifice his own
need for the boy.

Like a father would do for his son.

Mitch closed his eyes, swamped by what he
felt for both Johnny and Cassie.

Then he heard the crash.

Instantly, his cop’s instincts kicked in. His
whole body tensed as he identified the noise and its location.

A broken window. In the back of the
house.

Without making a sound, he reached down into
the gym bag and fished out his nine-millimeter. Straightening, he
picked his way to the door of the exercise room. He’d left no other
lights on in the house, and the exercise room couldn’t be seen from
the back door. Tiptoeing down the hall, he held his breath.

He heard more sounds. Shuffling. Then a groan
when the intruder knocked into something. His back to the wall,
Mitch felt his way down the corridor and stopped just where it met
the kitchen. In the splash of moonlight, he could see a figure.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. The collar of his jacket turned up.

When the intruder reached the apex of the
kitchen and hallway, Mitch sprang out. He knocked the guy to the
floor and pinned his hands behind his back in seconds.

“Mitch, it’s me. Johnny.”

Stunned, Mitch let go of Johnny’s arms and
eased off him. Just as Mitch set down his gun, he realized how
stupid the move was. The kid had broken into his house. The kid
hated him. The kid could do him harm. And now, Mitch was vulnerable
to him—and to whomever Johnny had brought along. Remaining
perfectly still, Mitch was sickened by the thought of Johnny
planning to hurt him.

Johnny righted himself and sat across from
Mitch. “I had to see you.”

“Why?”

“Look, could we turn on some lights?”

“Tell me first why you broke in.”

“I didn’t think you were here. There weren’t
any lights on in the back of the house. I was gonna wait for
you.”

Was this a trap?

“You could have called me.”

“There wasn’t time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Geez, Mitch, turn some lights on so I can
see you.”

And do what
?

“Tell me why you’re here first.”

“Okay. You gotta help me stop ‘em. The gang’s
going after Pepper tonight. They’re gonna use him as an
example.”

“What are they going to do?”

“Kill him.” Mitch could hear the strain in
Johnny’s voice. He sounded very young. “They want
me
to
kill him, Mitch, as proof that I’m really one of them.”

Mitch’s heart leapfrogged in his chest.
Slowly, he stood and switched on a lamp. It cast Johnny in a mellow
light, but the glow didn’t soften the ravages of his face. His
cheeks were sunken and he hadn’t shaved for days. His eyes were
hollow.

“Johnny...”

The boy stood, too. “Look, I’m not going to
do it. But
they
will. They’re gonna be there at eleven
when Pepper closes the pool hall. I made some excuse about seeing
my mother on my birthday and said I’d meet them there later.” He
grabbed Mitch’s arm. “But I came here, instead. You gotta help me,
Mitch. You gotta stop them from hurting anybody else.”

Reaching out, Mitch grasped Johnny’s
shoulders. “I will.” Impulsively, he pulled the boy into a bear
hug. “Thank God you came to me.” Then he let Johnny go. “All right,
tell me everything you know.”

o0o

THE ALLEY BEHIND Pepper’s pool hall smelled
like garbage day in New York City. It was dark, too, but thankfully
the cold front had abated.

Mitch had told the backup officers he’d
called to park the black-and-whites out of sight and to meet him at
the pool hall on foot. Pepper had been hurried out a side door, and
the few patrons had left. Six officers surrounded the building by
ten-thirty, and they were all in place.

At exactly eleven o’clock, a car rolled to a
stop at the end of the alley, its lights off. The driver left the
engine running and six guys piled out. Mitch was huddled behind a
protruding wall at the back entrance where Zorro had told Johnny to
meet them. Two other officers hid behind the trash cans across from
Mitch. Three more were around the corner.

The gang members strode down the alley. Mitch
could barely make out the red on the front of their jackets. Just
before they reached the door, Mitch and three officers stepped out
from their hiding places, guns cocked, arms out straight in firing
position. “Stop where you are,” Mitch said loud and clear. “This is
the police.”

Pandemonium broke out. The last three gang
members turned and ran. Two of the others dived toward the officers
behind the trash cans. The first one lunged for Mitch. The maneuver
of his attacker and the darkness unbalanced Mitch, and the gun flew
from his hand. The punk plowed into him.

Mitch was slammed back into the brick
building. His head spun dizzily. On reflex, he raised his arm and
grabbed the wrist of the attacker. He threw his weight forward. The
man fell back. Then he tripped. Mitch didn’t let go. They fell to
the ground together. Bone crunched on the gravel, but the attacker
kept hold of Mitch. He was smaller but strong. And determined.
Mitch parried a thrust of the guy’s knee. In doing so, he lost some
of his advantage. It was enough to let the guy roll over. He pinned
Mitch to the ground.

On his back now, Mitch could only see a
silhouette above him. Mitch’s grip loosened and the guy raised his
arm. Mitch saw the blade gleam in the moonlight just before it came
down at him. With one adrenaline-induced surge, Mitch thrust his
whole body to the side. The guy fell forward. Mitch pounced on him
and heard a heavy groan. The man went still.

Behind him, Mitch heard a scuffle.

He turned around in time to see another gang
member come at him with a knife.

A shot rang out and the world went black.

o0o

CASSIE WAS STARTLED out of a fitful sleep by
a noise. When she heard it again, she realized the doorbell was
ringing. She glanced at the clock over the television. It was 2:00
a.m. She’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Mitch to come to
her tonight. Awake now, her heart picked up speed as she wondered
why he was so late. She hurried to the door and pulled it open. On
the porch was Johnny Battaglia. His messy hair, unshaven face and
disheveled clothes registered briefly before he threw himself into
her arms.

“Oh, God, I’m so glad to see you,” she said,
keeping the boy close.

He held on tight for a minute. “You won’t be
glad.”

Tugging him inside, she didn’t let go of his
arm. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She hugged him again. “I’ve been so
worried about you.”

He drew back. “Mitch is in trouble,
Cassie.”

“Mitch?”

“Yeah. I got him into trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

Standing in the middle of the foyer, in
halting and self-deprecating words, Johnny told her about the
gang’s two-fold plan to kill Pepper and cement Johnny to them.

Cassie squeezed his hand and summoned the
strength she needed for him. “You did the right thing by going to
Mitch, Johnny.”

“Did I?”

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t know anymore.” He clutched at her
arm. “Where is he now? I waited at his house for hours, like he
told me to. I didn’t answer the phone, like he said. When it got so
late, I tried to call the police station, but the guy at the desk
wouldn’t tell me anything. Just that Mitch wasn’t there. So I came
here.”

The bleakness in Johnny’s eyes touched her
heart. She quelled the panic that threatened to surge through her.
“He’ll be fine, Johnny. He’s a good cop. He can take care of
himself.”

“Zorro hates him,” Johnny said distractedly.
“And you. He’ll go after Mitch. I know he will. I shouldn’t have
asked Mitch for help.”

Cassie drew in a deep breath. “Come into the
living room. We’ll wait here together. Everything will be all
right.”

She hoped her voice was calm. Although she
meant what she told Johnny about Mitch’s skill, the thought of him
being involved in a gang fight chilled her. For an hour, she sat
with Johnny, holding his hand, reassuring him and praying.

At 3:00 a.m. the bell rang again. Cassie
dashed to the foyer, but Johnny hung back in the living room. She
threw open the door—and once again, Mitch stood on the porch.

Mitch groaned as Cassie flung herself at him
and pain lanced from his shoulder through his entire body. She drew
back, her eyes dropping to his shoulder, which was confined in a
tight-fitting sling. “Oh, my God, you’re hurt.”

“I’m all right.”

“You’re in pain.” She stepped back. “Come on
in.”

He came fully into the foyer and studied her.
Her hair was half in a braid and half out. Her face was pale and
drawn. Her clothes were wrinkled. But she’d never looked better to
him. Without a word, he held out his good arm to her. She came back
to him gingerly. He circled her neck with his hand.

Though he saw Johnny hovering in the living
room, he tugged Cassie close for a minute. He’d had a flash of
insight in the moments before he was stabbed—something to do with
grabbing onto any happiness you can and making the most of the time
you have in this life. In her ear, he whispered, “I love you.”

Her body trembled and he knew she was crying.
He held her tightly against the uninjured half of his chest,
relishing the feel of her, needing her to know he’d never let her
go now, no matter what.

When she pulled back slightly, her watery
eyes returned the declaration before she whispered, “I love you,
too.”

“Everything’s going to be fine now. I’m alive
and I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

“Thank God.” It took a few moments for her to
regain her composure. But, just as always, she pulled it together
and smiled at him. Then she turned to look at Johnny.

Mitch followed her gaze. Johnny stood alone
next to the couch, his shoulders hunched, his posture stiff. The
desolation on his youthful face made Mitch’s heart go out to him.
Striding into the room, Mitch reached the boy and grasped his arm.
“You did the right thing in the end, Johnny. Hang on to that when
all this starts crashing down on you.”

Johnny nodded. “I’m just glad you’re all
right.”

“I am.” He looked at Cassie. “Let’s sit down.
I’m fine, but my shoulder hurts like hell, and I’m tired.”

When they were seated, Cassie asked, “What
happened?”

Briefly, Mitch explained the chain of events
in the alley behind Pepper’s.

“What happened to your shoulder?” Johnny
asked.

“A knife wound. They treated it in
Emergency.” He didn’t tell them he’d been brought in almost
unconscious but had refused to stay in the hospital. He knew he had
to see both Cassie and Johnny face-to-face to convince them he was
all right.

Biting her lip, Cassie seemed to struggle for
control. “What happened to everyone else?”

Mitch’s expression was somber. “Two of the
officers have superficial knife wounds.”

Cassie glanced at Johnny, then back to Mitch.
“The Blisters?”

“Most of them were arrested.”

Johnny spoke up. “Most of them?”

“Zorro was badly hurt.”

Johnny blanched.

“You have to know, Johnny,” Mitch told him
honestly. “I tangled with Zorro. He fell on the knife he attacked
me with.”

Cassie said, “How badly is he hurt?”

“He’s in critical condition. After they
treated me, I stayed around the hospital to see how he was.
Finally, the doctor came out of surgery. The knife wound was close
to Zorro’s heart. I left this number to be called when there’s any
word on him.” He turned to the boy. “Johnny, they don’t know if
he’ll live.”

Cassie got up and went to Johnny. She knelt
in front of him and squeezed his hand. “We’ll face this together,
Johnny. No matter—”

Just then, the phone rang. Reluctantly,
Cassie stood and answered it. Her face paled even more when she
turned to Mitch. “It’s the hospital. They want to talk to you.”

With grim resignation, Mitch rose and took
the receiver.

“Captain Lansing?” a voice on the other end
asked.

“Yes.

“This is Dr. Hanson. You wanted to know about
the boy who was brought in. Zorro, they called him.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. His heart just gave out.”

Immobilized, Mitch gripped the receiver.
Finally, he managed to say, “Oh. Well, thank you for calling.”
After he hung up, he turned to find Johnny still seated and Cassie
behind him with her hands on his shoulders.

Mitch walked over and squatted before Johnny.
He took his hand. “I’m sorry, Johnny. Zorro’s gone.” Mitch
tightened his grip on Johnny, and Cassie squeezed his shoulder.

Johnny froze for a moment. Then he shook them
both off and stood.

Mitch was forced back but he rose, too, and
reached out quickly. He got the back of Johnny’s shirt and held on
tight as Johnny started for the door. “No, Johnny, don’t leave. I’m
sorry Zorro’s dead. But don’t run away.” He yanked on the flannel
with his good arm. “Stay here with us. We’ll help you through
this.”

Johnny turned and faced them, tears running
down his cheeks. He stared at Mitch, then glanced at Cassie, his
face a study in torment. “I...I...”

“We’re your family now,” Cassie said.

Johnny still looked torn.

“Yes, son, we are,” Mitch told him.

At those words, Johnny’s whole body sagged
into Mitch. Careful of his injury, Mitch pulled the boy to his
chest. Johnny sobbed as he burrowed into Mitch. “It’s okay, John,
I’m here for you. We’re both here for you.” Looking over Johnny’s
head, Mitch locked his gaze on Cassie. “For good,” he said
hoarsely. “We’re both here for good.”

Johnny’s Journal

WELL, LIFE SURE HAS BEEN interesting the last
few days. I just got back from Cassie and Mitch’s wedding. I’m
still in my tuxedo—Mary Margaret said I looked sexy in it. Kurt
said I’ll need one when I get to be a big-shot doctor.