Crime Seen (28 page)

I shook my head sadly. ‘‘You know,’’ I said after a long moment, ‘‘I really used to think you were one of the good guys, Milo. That you were a cop worth looking up to.’’

Milo’s jaw set and his lips formed a thin line. I’d stung him. ‘‘Don’t even
think
about lecturing me on this, Abby.’’

‘‘Oh, I’ll think about it,’’ I snapped. ‘‘What would Walter say if he were here and he knew this was your attitude? Do you think he’d be proud?’’

Milo’s complexion darkened and his face turned so fierce that I knew I’d gone too far. ‘‘You have no idea what you’re saying,’’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘‘I’m gonna leave now, and it would be a pretty good idea if we didn’t talk to each other for a while.’’ With that, he stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind him.

‘‘Wow,’’ Candice said when he’d gone. ‘‘Think we hit a few nerves there.’’

I had tears in my eyes and I fought hard to pull them back before I answered. ‘‘Guilt can blind you to a lot of things,’’ I finally said.

‘‘Do you want to drop the case?’’

‘‘No,’’ I said firmly. ‘‘I need to solve it now more than ever.’’

Chapter Eleven

Candice and I hung out at the office until dinnertime, when we decided to grab a bite to eat. I told her that I needed to swing by my place first and take care of Eggy. As we came down my street, I spotted Dutch’s car in my driveway. ‘‘Abort! Abort!’’ I said and made a circular motion with my finger.

‘‘You and the boyfriend fighting?’’ she asked as she pulled into a nearby driveway and turned around.

‘‘No. But five seconds after I walk through that door we will be,’’ I said. ‘‘If I know Milo, he’s gone straight to Dutch, and Dutch is going to tear me a new one about sticking my nose where he doesn’t think it belongs.’’

‘‘Supportive,’’ Candice said sarcastically.

I sighed. ‘‘That’s the problem. He usually is, but he helped put Lutz away, so he’s not going to let go of all that hard work so easily.’’

‘‘Men,’’ Candice said with a sigh.

Over dinner she and I discussed strategy. Candice planned to find out what had happened to Lutz and continue checking into Dillon’s background. There was only so much she could do on a Sunday, though; she felt she’d have better luck on a weekday.

I was going to get to Universal as early as possible the next morning and use Bree’s password to look up anything that might give us a clue in the old loan files around the time of Walter’s murder. We planned to regroup at lunch, exchange information, and decide what to do next.

‘‘Whatever you find,’’ said Candice as she pushed her dinner plate away, ‘‘I think it’s best if tomorrow is your last day at the mortgage company.’’

I let out a sigh of relief. ‘‘I’m so glad you think so,’’ I said. ‘‘I hate that place.’’

Candice smiled. ‘‘The nine-to-five grind isn’t your thing, huh?’’

I shook my head vigorously. ‘‘At least it served its purpose. Now I
know
I need to get that mailer done and work on building my business back up. There is no way I ever want to work for corporate America again.’’

‘‘I feel ya,’’ she said. ‘‘I may be poor right now, with slim prospects, but I’d almost rather starve than go back to working for someone else’s PI firm.’’

Candice and I paid, then cruised back to my place. Dutch’s car was gone from my driveway, and I felt both relieved and disappointed. ‘‘Coast is clear,’’ said Candice as she spun us around again and headed back to the parking garage to pick up my car.

When I got home, there was a note from Dutch on the kitchen table:

I sighed and wadded up the note before pitching it into the waste can. No sense saving that love note. I picked up Eggy, who looked very tired. No doubt my boyfriend had been passing the time by tossing a ball around with him. I carried my pup to bed and watched the telly until I fell asleep. Sometime in the night I woke with a start. My heart was racing and my sheets were soaked with sweat. Eggy had moved to the other side of the bed and he yawned sleepily at me.

I flipped on my light and grabbed a pen and pad of paper from the drawer in my nightstand, then began scribbling furiously about the dream I’d just had.

Sometimes my very best intuitive information comes when I’m asleep, and I’ve always been one to pay attention to my dreams. The one I’d had tonight was particularly intriguing, albeit a bit on the terrifying side.

From what I remembered, it had started out simply enough. I was a shepherd on a hill overlooking a flock of sheep. The day was sunny and warm, and I remember feeling the heat of the sun on my skin. The sheep were all grazing peacefully, until a cloud moved over the sun and cast a shadow on one section of the herd.

I don’t remember what pulled my attention to one group of sheep in particular, but a song had seemed to fill the air around me. A man’s voice had been singing, ‘‘Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? The big bad wolf? The big bad wolf?’’ As I looked to a small clump of sheep, there were cries of alarm from them, and they scattered. Right on their tail was a monstrous wolf, with bared fangs and black fur, chasing a sheep along the fence line.

I tried to stand, but I felt weighed down by gravity. When I finally struggled to my feet, my eyes had trouble focusing. It was as if my lids were too heavy and my eyes kept closing. Running was out of the question—I could barely stand, let alone walk, and all around me the frantic bleating of the sheep rang out along the hillside.

Then suddenly the sheep made a sharp turn and one of them headed up the hill toward me with the wolf right on its heels. I struggled to keep focused and with all my might I lifted one leg and was able to take a small step. The sheep bleated and ran as the wolf gained speed and was almost on top of it. I cried out, ‘‘Nooooo!’’ just as a gunshot rang out. The sheep fell over and turned into Walter McDaniel. And it was just then that I got a clear image of the face of the wolf, which had suddenly taken on human characteristics. I had a vague recollection of the face, but what made it click in my head was the crown on the wolf’s head. It was King Edward VII.

I could remember being terribly confused by the whole scene and then I felt two sets of hands grab me roughly under the arms and pull me back and away from the scene. ‘‘Where are you taking me?’’ I asked, trying to twist around so that I could see the face of my kidnappers.

‘‘To jail!’’ said one of the men.

‘‘But why?’’ I wailed.

‘‘You’re guilty of murder,’’ said my captor. ‘‘You let that wolf kill your sheep!’’

I fought against them, but it was no use. I was dragged into a building, which I instantly recognized as Universal Mortgage. In the next moment, I was thrown into a large cage filled with snakes. I moved to the door of the cage and began pulling on it. That was when Dick Wolfe appeared and laughed as I struggled with the barred door.

‘‘Look out,’’ he said with a chuckle. ‘‘Snakes are going to eat you!’’

I looked down at my feet and saw dozens of snakes slithering all over my shoes and up my legs. ‘‘Let me out!’’ I screamed.

Dick laughed and was joined by Darren Cox.

‘‘Let me out now!’’ I demanded as I felt more snakes crawl up to my middle.

Dick and Darren just laughed harder, taking turns pointing at me as they whooped it up and slapped each other on the back.

I felt a snake encircle my neck, and dozens more wound around my legs, and up to my torso. I screamed and pulled on the door to the cage with all my might, and just in time I woke up.

After writing out the dream I got out of bed and wriggled out of my shirt. It felt damp and uncomfortable. Slipping on a fresh one, I crawled back into bed and scooted over a bit to be closer to Eggy. I grabbed the paper I’d written the dream on and read back through it, pausing to circle a few phrases and make a note or two in the margins. When I was done, I felt sleepy again, so I set the pad down and turned out the light. The next sound I heard was my alarm.

I slapped it off and quickly got out of bed. I had to be at Universal right when the doors opened, which Bree had told me was around seven thirty.

I made it with about five minutes to spare and paced in front of the door, glancing at my watch. Seven thirty came and went, as did seven forty. Finally, at seven fifty, a receptionist stepped off the elevator and came up to the locked door. ‘‘You’re here early,’’ she said to me as she took a key out of her pocket.

‘‘Just want to get a jump on the day,’’ I said with a big smile, trying to hide my irritation about her being late.

She opened the door and we both entered the lobby. I walked briskly back to the snake pit and sat down at Darren’s desk. I flipped his computer on and waited, tapping my foot impatiently while it warmed up. Finally the screen welcomed me and I clicked the icon that would allow me to enter Universal’s software system. Punching in Bree’s log-in name and password, I smiled as a menu displayed several choices. I ran a quick search using Dillon McDaniel’s name, and scowled as I saw that there were a good dozen or so properties listed. ‘‘So much for not using Universal to write your mortgage paper,’’ I muttered. Clicking through a few of them, I noticed that most were fairly recent purchases, none older than five years, and none of the applications had his father’s name as the co-borrower.

Going back to the search function, I typed in ‘‘Walter McDaniel’’ and waited nervously while the computer processed my request. An error message popped up, saying that the record I was looking for could be found in Version III. I frowned and stared at the computer screen for a minute. Minimizing the window, I scanned the screen for other icons. I found another icon that looked similar to the logo I’d opened, but was a different color. Double-clicking that, I opened it and let out a sigh of relief as the software welcomed me to Universal Mortgage Version III. Again I typed in Bree’s log-in and password and waited until the menu screen displayed. Pulling up the search function, I typed in Walter’s name, once more. Five loan applications appeared.

My crew gave me a nudge to hurry and my heart began to race. I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was ten past eight. Processors would be getting their morning coffee and clicking their computers on, and in a few more minutes some of the loan officers would likely arrive. I focused on the screen again and clicked on the first application. Again my crew sent me a warning. ‘‘Two seconds,’’ I whispered as I hit the print icon and watched the hourglass spin in the middle of the screen. I got one more buzz from my crew before I logged out of that program, and I hurried to exit the other.

Just as I got up to go over to the printer, I saw the door to the snake pit open and in walked Sheldon Jacob. He paused ever so slightly when he spotted me and glanced at his watch as he sat down. ‘‘You’re here early,’’ he grunted.

I flashed him my biggest smile. ‘‘Just anxious to learn how you guys make so much money!’’

Sheldon squinted his beady eyes at me as he unloaded his briefcase. ‘‘Most of the women don’t last,’’ he said.

‘‘Excuse me?’’

‘‘They can’t take the heat that we boys bring. You might be better off in processing,’’ he added.

‘‘I see,’’ I said, trying not to bolt to the printer, which, very unfortunately for me, was located right behind Sheldon.

‘‘The last girl we had in here only lasted two weeks,’’ he continued.

‘‘I wouldn’t have taken this job if I wasn’t up to the challenge,’’ I lied.

Sheldon grunted and looked at me as he sat down, his chair squeaking in protest. ‘‘I give you ten days— tops,’’ he said, then flashed me his own winning smile.

I lifted my chin and moseyed over to him. ‘‘Believe me,’’ I said as I got close, ‘‘I’m not to be underestimated.’’

‘‘Yeah, okay,’’ he said and snickered in earnest. Then he picked up the phone and started dialing. I had apparently been dismissed.

I moved discreetly over to the printer and carefully picked up the application I’d printed out. Without turning around, I pushed through the door and out into the hallway, then walked swiftly to the ladies’ room. Once inside the stall I scanned the application, bemoaning the fact that I hadn’t had more time to look through the records. Everything about the application seemed in order. Nothing seemed inflated or falsified. Walter had been the primary borrower and his son, Dillon, had been the co-borrower.

Walter’s assets had been considerably more than his son’s, with a nice 401(k) balance and healthy sums in his checking and savings. His cars were paid for, he had relatively little debt, and the mortgage on his primary residence was nearly paid off.

Dillon had only his settlement money as an asset, some sixty thousand dollars. He didn’t list any other assets. He planned to put ten thousand down on the house he was purchasing. I glanced at his address; according to the application, at the time he’d been living at home with his mom and dad.

Yet something nagged at me, and I wasn’t sure what. I scanned back through the application, but couldn’t put my finger on what my radar kept insisting was something I needed to take note of. With a sigh I tucked the application into my pocket and went back to the snake pit. I didn’t know if I would be put back with Bree again, so I decided just to wait for Darren to come in and tell me what to do. While I was waiting,Darren’s phone rang and I glanced at the readout. It indicated that Andrea LaChance from human resources was calling. Shrugging my shoulders, I picked up the phone. ‘‘Hi, Andrea, Darren isn’t in yet,’’ I said.

‘‘Is this Abigail?’’ she asked.

‘‘Yes, it is.’’

‘‘You’re the one I wanted to reach anyway. Mr. Wolfe has requested you in his office this morning at ten a.m.’’

My mouth went dry. ‘‘Oh?’’ I said and cursed the little squeak in my voice.

‘‘Yes. Please be punctual. Mr. Wolfe hates tardiness.’’