Read Online On the Street Where You Die (Stanley Bentworth mysteries Book 1) by Al Stevens - Free Book Online

seldom in real danger. All the action had already happened. They called us in to clean it up. I was out on my own now, no help, no backup, but the balls were still in place and working. It felt good. But if he’d tried to jump me, I would have had to shoot him. Then there’d be paperwork.
    “Stay on the ground,” I said, hoping he’d agree.
    I looked fondly at the Louisville Slugger in my grip. Rodney and I used to play flies and grounders with it on the vacant lot behind the house when he was younger. And when I was younger too. Now the old Slugger was being put to professional use, and I was about to improve my batting average.
    I walked over to the silver Beamer and broke one headlight. Then I broke the passenger’s side of the windshield. Then a taillight. For the final out I banged a good-sized dent in the passenger’s side door. Then I walked back to the house and handed the bat to Rodney. The Captain was still on the ground staring first at me then at his car.
    “I left you enough to see your way home,” I told the Captain. “Make sure you never see your way back. I find you here again, it’s your head, legs, ribs, anything I can reach, instead of that pussy Beamer. And no more mister nice guy. Next time I break something. Now get the fuck out of here.”
    He pulled himself to his feet, limped over to his car, hugging his ribs and glaring at me all the way, and got in. He rolled the passenger window down half way, which got caught up in the damage I’d done, and called out, “You haven’t heard the last of this.” Then he drove away.
    Probably true. I went inside.
    “If you hear from him again, Amanda, call me. Keep your door locked and don’t let him in.”
    “I will. Thanks, Stanley .” She gave me a hug, which made it all worth while.
    “What’s his job with the Army?” I asked.
    “Something to do with intelligence,” she said.
    Oh, great. Now I’m certain to hear from him again.
    “Hey, Uncle Stanley,” Rodney said, “I ain’t no helpless teenage boy. I could have taken him myself.”
    “When you tell this story at school, you can tell it that way.”
    “I don’t go to school.”
    “You should.”
    The booze was wearing off. I went home and went straight to bed.

Chapter 9 
     
    The alarm clock woke me at
seven thirty
. No hangover. That was pleasant. I could get used to that. With a shower and shave, dressed and out the door, I was on my way to work.
    An olive drab Chevy with official white markings fell in behind me. I couldn’t make out the lettering, but I could guess. Captain Pugh had sent some payback. I’m not sure where he got my home address. I could see two large men in Army uniforms in the front seat of the car. The driver was young, big, and had a serious look about him. The other one was in the shadows.
    I drove north under the Interstate and to the police station and pulled into a parking space marked “Official Police Vehicles Only.” The olive drab Chevy sped away.
    I didn’t get out. I backed out of the parking space just as a uniform was walking over to tell me I couldn’t park there. I smiled and waved at him and drove to my office.
    Willa wasn’t in yet. She must’ve stopped at the bank to deposit our windfall. I was right. I settled in at my desk, and she came in, smiling.
    “Good morning, boss man,” she said, taking off her coat and tossing a deposit slip on her desk. “The Bentworth Detective Agency is in the black for the first time I can remember. All caught up on our bills, and my back salary is paid in full at last.”
    “Anything left?”
    “Some.”
    “How much?”
    “I’m not going to tell you. You’d just spend it.”
    “That I would.”
    “Your paycheck is in your desk drawer. Spend that.”
    I opened the drawer and looked at the check.
    “What? I get a pay cut?”
    “Times are tough, boss man. There’s a recession on. Got to tighten our belts. We all have to pitch in and do our part.”
    You’d have thought she was selling war