Crime Seen Read Online Free PDF Page B

room. I was breathing hard and shaking. The image had been so vivid and terrifying, and I swore I could almost hear the howls of pleasure as the dogs had torn the man to pieces. I looked down at the file my hands were resting on and noticed that it wasn’t one of the blue FBI folders. This one was manila and the tab read, LUTZ.
    ‘‘Oh, shit!’’ I said as I realized what I’d just tuned in on. Quickly, I grabbed the pad of paper and began frantically scribbling everything I’d seen in the vision. When I was done, I sat back and circled a line here and there. I stared at the space at the bottom of the page, where I would need to write my interpretation of the vision I’d been shown, and my hand hesitated. I knew in my heart that Bruce Lutz had taken the fall for a crime he had not committed, and further, I knew that Dick Wolfe had not only ordered the hit but had been there when it went down. What I didn’t know was why. My gut was telling me there was more to it than just the fact that Walter and Milo had been nosing around in Wolfe’s business.
    There was something key in the vision, something I’d seen about the crime, that was troubling me. It was the sheep, I realized. Obviously it represented someone Walter had known and possibly trusted, but who was it? Who could have lured Walter out of the car when he knew he was surrounded by danger?
    I sat there for a long time, trying to decide what to do. If I took this to Dutch, he would likely dismiss my interpretation. And even I had to admit, as I read back through the description of my vision that a pigeon being snapped at by a big dog and ending up trapped in a birdcage didn’t exactly look like it should clear Lutz of the murder. But this was how my intuition worked. It was partly visual and partly just knowing when I was right on target. I knew I was right about Lutz. But I also knew that in order to convince my boyfriend, I’d need a lot more than descriptions of big dogs, a sheep, and a pigeon. If I went to him with only that, he was likely to ask me if I’d also seen a partridge in a pear tree.
    I tore the page from the notepad and folded it, then tucked it securely in my back pocket. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but I could decide on that later. For now, I was so drained that what I really needed was a nap. I got up from the desk and headed into the living room, where I sank down onto Dutch’s soft leather couch and fell almost immediately to sleep.
    ‘‘Abs.’’ I heard a deep baritone whisper in my ear and I felt a tug on my arm. ‘‘Come on, honey, wake up.’’
    ‘‘Huh?’’ I said, my eyes snapping open. ‘‘What’s going on?’’
    Dutch laughed as he stroked my hair. ‘‘You’ve been out cold since I walked in.’’
    ‘‘Ohmigod!’’ I said, sitting up straight. ‘‘Is it after six?’’
    ‘‘No, babe. It’s noon. I came home for lunch to see what you’d come up with on my files.’’
    I rubbed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my tired mind. ‘‘I only got through one of the files,’’ I said. ‘‘It really wore me out.’’
    ‘‘Well,’’ he said, holding up the folder with the paper attached, ‘‘looks like you hit pay dirt here.’’
    ‘‘Yeah?’’ I asked.
    Dutch nodded and stood up. He took my hand and pulled me up from the couch. ‘‘Come on. I’ll make us some lunch and fill you in.’’
    We ate hot dogs and potato chips as Dutch told me about the county waterworks pension fund. ‘‘Two weeks ago we got a tip from a retired waterworks employee that he’d noticed a small change in the pension’s monthly yield, but the corresponding rate assigned to the fund should have netted a little more cash.’’
    ‘‘How much more?’’
    Dutch smiled. ‘‘Five dollars and sixty-seven cents.’’
    ‘‘Someone’s watching their pennies,’’ I said.
    ‘‘Hey, he’s retired. What else is there for him to do?’’
    ‘‘Good