Night Work by Steve Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page A

greater need for space when you have a parent or two joining in on the visit. I went to my office and unlocked the door, sat down at my desk, and dove right into a folder full of PSIs. “PSI” stands for presentence investigation—it’s a thorough report we do when the court finds a defendant guilty. Before sentencing, the judge will want to know about any mitigating factors surrounding the crime, the impact on the victim or victims, the defendant’s family and personal background, mental and physical health, history of drug or alcohol use. Then finally there’s a recommended sentence of either prison time or probation, which the judge is free to agree with or completely ignore. The state requires the report for any felony, or for any crime committed by a juvenile. Which means I end up doing a hell of a lot of them.
    Already I could feel myself relaxing for the firsttime that day. It felt good to be here. Or if not exactly good, then comfortable. Some days it felt like everything else I did was just pretend. The training, the music. All by myself, just pretending to have a life. Until I get back here in this office, at this desk … This was where I belonged, no doubt about it, reading over somebody’s PSI instead of being outside enjoying a perfect August day.
    The building had felt empty when I came in, but now I could hear a chair rolling around in Larry’s office upstairs. He had probably heard me opening the front door, which meant he was probably on his way down the stairs. About thirty seconds later, he poked his head around my door.
    “Joe,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
    “Catching up.” I didn’t look up at him.
    “Everything okay? You know I’ve got coverage today.” Meaning he was the lucky guy on call in case of an emergency, in case any of our clients did something truly monumental.
    “Yeah, I know,” I said. “I’m just going over some stuff.”
    He hung there in the doorway. I could tell he wasn’t sure what to say to me. In the three months he’d been there, I’m not sure he’d ever spoken a totally confident word to me.
    “How’s it going with that Schuler kid?”
    “Wayne? He wasn’t home on Friday.”
    “Again?”
    “I think he’s ducking me.”
    “That’s not good.”
    No kidding, I thought. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on him.”
    Larry nodded. Still not getting me at all, that man. I didn’t think he was a bad guy because of it. Hell, I don’t get myself most of the time. My old boss, Bob, he was a tough act to follow, in my book at least. He knew I was good at this stuff, even if I went a little overboard sometimes. More importantly, he was here when it all happened, the whole thing with Laurel. He was the one who made me take some time off. He was the one who kept in touch every week, until it was time to bring me back in. Then he was the one who didn’t say a word if I came in every single day, even if it screwed up his overtime numbers.
    He’s retired now. I hated to see him leave. They brought Larry in from some county upstate, way up north of Albany. He knows what I’ve been through, of course. On paper, he knows. But he obviously still doesn’t know quite what to do with me. In fact, I probably scare the hell out of him.
    “You feeling all right today, Joe?”
    I looked up at him. “Yeah. I’m good.”
    “Okay, well … I’ll be up in my office if you need me.”
    “Got it.”
    He nodded, raised a hand as if to make some sort of gesture, changed his mind, and turned around. He went back up the stairs. A few seconds later, I could hear his chair rolling around again.
    My cell phone rang in my pocket. As I took it out, I wondered if it could be Marlene. But no, the caller ID read KINGSTON PD.
    “Howie,” I said as I answered it. “What’s going on?”
    “JT, I just wanted to hear about the big date.”
    Howie Borello had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, since when we were growing up right here in Kingston. He