Bayview Heights Trilogy (27 page)

Cassie nodded. Turning back to the pile, she
sifted through it methodically. Carefully, she examined each of the
yearbooks, remembering the kids she’d taught, trying to visualize
the faces of all those whose lives she’d touched and who had
influenced her. Now their images were covered with red spray paint.
She tossed them all into the bins Mitch had provided, cringing at
the irrevocable loss.

Underneath the yearbooks was her collection
of classic novels and plays. Over the years, she’d found
leather-bound editions in the city, out-of-print copies in rare
books stores, a few first editions in out-of- the-way places. She
smiled as she picked up a copy of
Romeo and Juliet
. She’d
gone without new clothes for months so she could afford it. Now
pages were ripped out, and globs of red paint stuck the rest of
them together. Its dark leather binding had been slashed.

Her poetry collection had met a similar fate.
Mitch came back and knelt down next to her. She looked up, shaking
her head, holding one of the mutilated volumes. “Seth gave me the
set when I graduated from Geneseo. He and his wife came up for the
ceremony. My mother was dead by then. He brought these all wrapped
up in pink-and-silver paper. There were twenty volumes.” She
dropped the book she held and picked another one up, battling back
the tears when she recognized the title. “Did you know e.e.
cummings is my favorite poet?”

Mitch reached out and ran his knuckles down
her cheek. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“You’ve read him?”

Mitch nodded. “Yeah. He’s a little too avant
garde for my taste, but I managed to understand a verse or
two.”

Cassie smiled, but when the doorbell rang,
she startled.

Gently, Mitch soothed his hand down her back.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s three o’clock. The security guy from Strong’s
said he’d be here midafternoon.”

“Mitch, I don’t...”

She didn’t finish because Mitch’s face
darkened. Cassie watched him once again tamp down the rage that had
almost erupted last night when she’d driven back to his condo to
tell him what she’d found when she’d gotten home: someone had
smashed in a first-floor window and broken into her house.
Throughout this whole ordeal, he’d kept a rein on his temper, and
she appreciated his squelching his own feelings to help her get
through it.

Now he took a stand. “Don’t say it, Cassie.
You need a security system, period. I won’t back down on this.” He
stood and crossed to the foyer.

Two months ago Cassie couldn’t have imagined
letting anyone impose his will on her like this. But she’d
acquiesced on everything. Last night, he’d demanded that she stay
with him until her place had been taken care of. This morning, he’d
insisted on getting the house wired. Cassie had let him take over.
She didn’t want to admit to herself what it meant about her
feelings for him that she’d allowed him to make these decisions for
her.

He opened the front door. From her vantage
point on the floor, Cassie could see the security expert greet
Mitch. But before the man came in, Johnny materialized in the
archway.

Mitch let them both in. As the security man
set his gear down, Mitch drew Johnny aside, spoke briefly to him,
then went back to discuss the alarm system.

Johnny approached her. “Cassie?”

She looked up at him, suppressing what she
felt. “Hi.”

Just like Mitch, he reached down and squeezed
her shoulder. “This is awful.”

“How did you find out?”

“Ms. Caufield told me. But it’s all over
school. The Connors,” he said, referring to her next door
neighbors, “saw the police cars last night and their son Jimmy got
a peek at the inside of the house before he came to school.”

“Well, it was bound to get out.”

“I hope it’s okay I came. I want to
help.”

Cassie looked back down at the remains of
what had been her only good memories of the past. “I’m glad you
came. I was going to do it all myself. I thought I could salvage
some things. But it’s all destroyed. I...” She looked at Johnny and
her voice trailed off.

He’d knelt down and picked up a ruined book.
A glob of red paint caked on his fingers.

“Be careful,” she said, falling easily into
the teacher role. “You’ll get messy.”

Before Johnny could respond, Mitch joined
them. “The security guy is going through the house now.”

Cassie watched Johnny. The boy was frozen,
staring at the red paint, slowly rubbing his fingers it. Without a
word, he looked up at Mitch.

Mitch said, “You want to tell her, or should
I?”

Soberly, Johnny said, “I will.” He faced
Cassie. “I’m sorry, Cassie. The Blisters...” He glanced back down
at the red paint again. “This is their trademark.”

o0o

SOMETHING HARD SLAPPED across Johnny’s mouth.
His eyes flew open. It was dark in his bedroom, but he could see a
figure looming over him. He felt something cold and sharp against
his neck. Every one of his muscles constricted. He could be dead in
an instant.

“It’s me.”

Johnny’s body sagged with relief.

After a moment, he shook his head, trying to
dislodge Zorro’s hand. Zorro dropped his right arm from Johnny’s
mouth, but kept the knife strategically positioned at Johnny’s
jugular.

“What do you want?” Johnny asked.

“We gotta talk, home boy.”

Home boy?
So Zorro hadn’t given up
on him yet.

“Why the blade?”

“So you’ll listen.”

Then it came flooding back. Cassie’s sad eyes
and drawn features as she threw her most precious belongings in the
garbage.

Heedless of the danger, Johnny spat out, “You
bastard.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, sure. Red paint is the Blisters’s
trademark.”

“I didn’t do it,” he repeated. “It’s one of
the reasons I’m here.” Slowly, Zorro pulled back his stiletto.
Flipping it in, he reached down and stuck it in his boot. Then he
pulled up a chair and switched on a light on the bedside table.

Johnny leaned back against the pillows. “Tell
me you know nothin’ about it.”

“I know somethin’,” Zorro said. “Doesn’t mean
I had anything to do with it.”

“You hate her.”

“She’s a bitch.”

Johnny stiffened.

“Ease up, man,” Zorro said with a shrug.
“DeFazio jumped in today.”

Johnny expelled a heavy breath. “He’s a jerk.
Why you want him?”

“Gotta keep up our numbers, Tonto. Besides,”
Zorro said, his eyes slitting with anger, “I need a new sidekick,
now that you ditched us.”

“So you pick a dopehead?”

“My business.” Zorro stared at him. “Just
came here to tell you we didn’t know he’d go after the teacher.”
Zorro smiled silkily. “You know he had to do somethin’ heavy to
jump in. Just to start out right with us.”

Johnny couldn’t believe he’d once been a part
of this—done these things, made others do them. “So why tell
me?”

“I didn’t want you to come after me for
it.”

Johnny looked at his friend carefully and,
despite all that had happened, felt a tug of regret at losing him.
“Why do you care? You’re done with me, remember?”

Leaning forward on the straight chair, Zorro
linked his hands between his knees. “Yeah, well, I been doin’ some
reevaluatin’.”

“Why?”

Zorro looked up at Johnny with the eyes of
the old friend he’d always been. “Cause she’s gonna turn on you,
man.”

“So you said before.”

“And I changed my mind about you and me.
Since we got history together. I’ll be here when she does it.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“She’s gettin’ chummy with the cop.”

Johnny tensed, remembering his conversation
with Mitch.

She okay?
Johnny had asked.

Yeah.

You didn’t let her stay here last night,
did you?

Ah...no, she’s staying at my place for a
few days.

Her closeness with Lansing had felt okay
then. “So?”

Zorro shook his head, as if Johnny had said
something incredibly stupid. “Push comes to shove, she’ll pick him
over you any day.”

“What do you mean?”

“The pig’s after somethin’ from you, Tonto.
Why else he want anything to do with you?”

For a moment, Johnny saw his father, standing
over him, a belt in his hand.
You good-for-nothing
brat.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’
about.”

“Wait. It’ll happen just like I say. They’ll
use you. And my guess is, it’ll be to get at me. At the Blisters.
When it happens, you come back to your family, man. We be there for
you.”

And as stealthily as he’d come, Zorro
disappeared into the night.

o0o

“I DON’T CARE what you have to do,” Mitch
barked into the phone. “I want the results by noon.” He slammed the
receiver down and clenched his fists to keep from throwing the
whole instrument across his office. Consciously, he leaned back in
his chair. Just as the counselors had taught him, he closed his
eyes and willed every muscle in his body to relax one at a time. It
worked better this morning than it had two nights ago.

Seeing Cassie’s fear when she’d returned to
his place, watching the realization sink in, witnessing her
suffering as she threw out the pieces of her past. He’d wanted to
howl with rage—and tear somebody apart.

Preferably the Blisters.

Instead, he’d promised himself he’d stop this
gang, no matter what. He’d end their threat to Cassie—and to
Johnny, the boy who had also come to mean so much to him.

It had enraged him to see Johnny’s pain as he
told Cassie the red spray paint was a calling card of the Blisters,
that they had done this to her.

And amid her very real suffering, she’d
comforted Johnny. She’d told him it didn’t matter. That the books
were only material things. She’d made him promise to let Mitch take
care of this and not get involved.

It was in that completely selfless moment
that Mitch had realized he was in love with Cassie Smith. He didn’t
know what he was going to do with the knowledge, but it was there,
in a corner of his heart, for safekeeping.

A movement across the room drew him from his
reflection.

Mitch’s jaw dropped when he saw Joe DeFazio’s
father in the doorway to his office.

“Mr. DeFazio.”

“Captain.” The man’s voice was hoarse. And he
looked different from the brash, arrogant bully who’d told Mitch
five weeks ago to leave his son alone. DeFazio’s shoulders were
hunched and his eyes bloodshot, as if from lack of sleep.

“What can I do for you?”

DeFazio inched into the room.

“Sit down.”

The man perched on the edge of a seat in
front of Mitch’s desk. His eyes darted around the office. Mitch
waited.

“It’s my boy.”

“Joe.”

“He’s...he’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hasn’t been home since last weekend.”

“Why haven’t you notified us?”

“Because he called his ma. Told her he was
staying with friends. Says he’s quitting school.”

“How old is he?”

“Eighteen.”

Legal age to make the decision. “Do you know
where he is?”

“He wouldn’t say. But we called a buddy of
his. Youngblood. The kid told us he thinks Joey’s hanging out with
a gang in the city. They tried to get Youngblood to go with them,
but he said no.” DeFazio looked up at Mitch. “My boy said yes.
Why’d he say yes, Captain?”

For a brief moment, Mitch took pleasure in
the fact that Youngblood was able to resist the lure of the gang.
But it was quickly overshadowed by the fact that DeFazio had been
sucked in. “Your boy said yes for a thousand reasons, Mr.
DeFazio.”

“Can you help me?”

“I’ll try.”

o0o

IT WAS A MISTAKE. Mitch could see it as soon
as he put the question to Johnny. Mitch had gone to Kurt’s clinic,
to find the boy, to ask for his help, over Cassie’s
objections....

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to involve
Johnny.” Cassie had stared at Mitch over her desk when he’d come to
school to tell her about DeFazio.

“Cassie, he can help us. I need to know where
the Blisters hang out.”

“Get the New York City police involved. They
should know something.”

“Time is important. Besides, Johnny’s strong
enough. He’ll be able to handle this.”

“I’m not sure. Insecurities like his are hard
to overcome. I know.”

“I think you’re wrong....”

But she’d been right. Mitch knew it as soon
as he’d broached the subject with Johnny. The boy had stiffened
first, then shut down right before Mitch’s eyes. “What do you mean,
I could help? I’m not part of them anymore.”

Mitch tried to backtrack when he pegged
Johnny’s reaction. “It’s okay. I’m worried about the DeFazio boy. I
figured if you knew how to contact him, we might be able to do some
type of intervention.”

“You want me to tell you where the Blisters
hang out, don’t you?”

“Look, Johnny, I’m not making myself clear
here. I just thought—”

“Cassie know about this?”

“Cassie?”

“Yeah. Does she know you’re here?”

“Yes, but—”

And before Mitch could explain, Kurt burst in
on them. “I need Johnny and all available staff members. Stat.”

The emergency had taken two hours. Mitch had
stuck around, but by the time he got to see Johnny again, the kid
had his mask back in place. “Sure, it’s cool. I understand.”

Mitch suspected Johnny didn’t.

o0o

JOHNNY WAITED FOR DEFAZIO in the back room at
Pepper’s. It wasn’t very private, but it was where DeFazio had
wanted to meet.

Closing his eyes, Johnny leaned back against
the rough plaster wall and tried to stop the anger. First Lansing,
now DeFazio. Why was everybody wanting to talk to him? Shit, he
just wanted to be left alone.

They’ll use you...they want something
from you...my guess is, it’ll be to get at me. At the
Blisters.