"Stay away from me!" the woman with red hair screamed. She turned and ran.
"Wait!" Mr. Monk called and followed her. He came around the building as she dodged a car by leaping onto the sidewalk. He saw another set of car lights approaching and reached for her arm. "Hey!"
The woman broke free, screamed and ran into the street.
The van's horn blew, but it was too late. It bounced over her body and kept going.
Johnny jerked awake and wiped sweat off his brow.
III
"Type of gun, bullet and a list of people in the area with this type of gun registered." Lt. Disher handed papers to Stottlemeyer and took another gulp of coffee.
"Wow, you've been busy," Stottlemeyer said sitting behind his desk and starting to examine the papers.
"Been here since 6, sir." He drained his coffee mug with a slurp.
Stottlemeyer stopped reading to look up at him.
"Fourth cup. I was up all night. Incredible night. Incredible! I'll have to tell you about it some time."
"Can't wait." Stottlemeyer went back to the papers but had barely read the first word when a commotion erupted outside his office. He looked out his window and sighed. "Not again."
"Want me to get rid of 'em?" Disher asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"No, I'll take care of it."
"I'm sorry, sir," a security guard said to Stottlemeyer. The guard and his partner were trying to physically lead Bruce and Johnny away from Stottlemeyer's office. "They refuse to leave."
"It's ok, Dan. I'll take over from here."
"Yes, sir." Dan and his partner unhanded Johnny and Bruce.
"Thank you, Captain," Johnny said.
"Inside," Stottlemeyer said sternly, indicating his office.
Bruce and Johnny entered the office and sat down.
"Get a copy of this intel to Monk," Stottlemeyer ordered Disher.
"On it." Disher leapt into action, literally, holding a fresh cup of coffee.
"Hey, Randy," Stottlemeyer called.
Randy spun back. "Yeah? Sir?"
"Ease up on the coffee."
"Ok, sir." He took one last gulp and set his mug on a table.
Stottlemeyer shook his head, went back into his office and closed the door.
"I know what you're going to say," Johnny said.
"Let's get something straight, Mr. Smith," Stottlemeyer said firmly, moving to stand in front of Bruce and Johnny. "In the last sixteen hours, there's been a double homicide, two robberies, one missing person, and about a dozen or more moving violations. These are in addition to the caseload this department was already working on. Every person here is busy. No one has time for something that might happen. Now, you seem like a nice man. And you may or may not be psychic. I don't know how to determine that. I don't know if I even believe in psychics. What I'm saying is I do not have the right, the time nor the resources to follow up on you 'vision' at the moment. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes," Johnny said.
"Look," Bruce said a bit angrily. "We understand that you're busy. But you should understand that Johnny's visions are always right."
"Well, not always," Johnny interjected.
"98 right. He helps the police all the time back home. Just call Walt Bannerman. Give him the number, John. He'll tell you that Johnny's foreknowledge has helped prevent tons of crimes. Go ahead, give him Walt's number."
"Ok," Stottlemeyer said. "I'll have your story checked out as soon as I can."
"Oh, thank you so much," Bruce said sarcastically. He took the card Johnny was about to hand Stottlemeyer. "Got a pen?"
"Uh, yeah." Stottlemeyer handed him one.
"This is the number of the hotel where we're staying. When you come to your senses, give us a call. Come on." He handed Stottlemeyer the card and left the office.
"Thank you for your time," Johnny said and followed Bruce.
Stottlemeyer sighed and sank into his desk chair.
III
"Thank you, Lt," Monk said.
"How come you brought these over yourself?" Natalie asked. "Instead of ordering some lower echelon person to do it."
"I needed to get out of the office for a bit."
"Too much energy?" Natalie asked snatching the coaster Randy was twirling in his hands.
"Yeah. Too much coffee."
"No such thing," Natalie said moving Julie's yo-yo out of Randy's reach.
"Your date must have gone well," Monk said absently as he perused the file on the Ramone homicides.
"Huh?" Randy and Natalie asked.
"Date?" Natalie added.
"Yep. And it did go well. Very well." Disher smiled.
Natalie held up her hand. "Please. No details."
"How did you know?" Randy asked Monk.
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Yesterday, Mr. Smith told you to be careful with the wine. If the date had gone badly, you wouldn't be trying to keep yourself awake. Plus, you're obviously in a good mood."
"I did at least notice that," Natalie said.
Randy didn't say anything. He had a thoughtful countenance.
"What?" Natalie asked.
"I'd forgotten about that."
"About what?"
"He told me to be careful with the wine."
"So?"
"I almost spilled a glass of wine. It could have gone across the table into her lap."
"I hardly think that would have been enough to sour the whole date," Natalie said. "And if it was, then you'd deserve someone better."
"The point is-. Thank you, Natalie."
"Yeah, well. You were saying?"
"Right. The point is why did he mention the wine?"
"I don't know. Maybe he saw your calendar on your desk."
"Or maybe he really is psychic."
"What do you think, Mr. Monk?"
"He said he has to touch something to get a vision.'
"He shook my hand."
"But he said he didn't touch anything to get his vision of a woman being hit by a van," Natalie pointed out.
Monk looked thoughtful.
"So he's lying," Natalie said.
"But what about the wine?" Disher asked.
"Oh, would you just forget about the stupid wine?"
"Randy, get someone to run a search on these suspects," Monk said handing him the file. "Look for anyone who owns a van or works in construction."
"Sure," Randy said jumping up. He almost dropped the file in his haste. "I'll let you know as soon as we're done," he called on his way to the door.
"You think the van you saw parked outside the apartment building might have something to do with the Ramone brothers' murder?" Natalie asked.
"And with the woman in Mr. Smith's vision."
"Not you, too." Natalie rolled her eyes. "I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that."
"I don't."
"So what? Mr. Smith is involved somehow?"
"That's what we have to find out."
III
"You think it's not a coincidence that these homicides occurred right after Mr. Smith told us about his vision?" Stottlemeyer asked Monk.
"Not only that. He was here either while the murders were being committed or right after," Monk said.
"So he's covering for someone," Stottlemeyer inferred. "Trying to throw us off the trail."
"It's a possibility," Monk agreed.
"Well, he gave me a number for an officer in Maine," Stottlemeyer said digging Walt's card from his pocket. "Says he helps the local department solve cases all the time."
"Want me to call him?" Natalie asked.
III
"This is Officer Bannerman. How can I help you?"
"Hi. My name is Natalie Teeger. I work on a consulting basis for the San Francisco Police Department. A man by the name of John Smith came into the offices yesterday with some information. He gave us your number in case we wanted to talk to you. Do you know a John Smith?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do. He's a good friend of mine."
"How do you know him?"
"He helps my department solve cases now and then. Kind of like a consultant."
"How does he help?"
"Uh, he has some unique abilities. I'm sorry, why are you calling?"
"Unique as in psychic?"
"Look, what's this about ma'am? Is Johnny in some kind of trouble?"
"No, no. At least not that we know of yet."
"Where is he?"
"He and a Mr. Bruce Lewis are staying at a nearby hotel."
"And they're safe?"
'Yes. As far as I know they're fine. Can you tell me about Mr. Smith's abilities?"
"Tell you what. Let me talk to Johnny, and I'll get back to you."
"Wait. Can you just answer one more question?"
"I'm listening."
"Mr. Smith said he had a vision of a woman being run over by a van. Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"Johnny has visions all the time."
"And are his visions accurate?"
"Yes. Now, I'm not answering anymore of your questions until I talk to Johnny."
"Ok. Thank you." Natalie gave Walt the number for the hotel.
III
"Well, Officer Bannerman says Johnny's for real," Natalie reported.
"He could be a plant," Monk said.
"No. He's legit," Disher said. "I looked him up in the database. He's got an impressive record. There were some write-ups in local papers questioning his methods, i. e. consulting with a psychic. I also looked up Mr. Smith." He handed some print outs to Monk and Stottlemeyer. Natalie leaned in to look at Monk's copies.
"He was in a coma for six years!" Natalie exclaimed.
"When he woke up, he started having visions," Disher said.
"So, he really could be psychic," Natalie said incredulously. "According to this, he's had all kinds of medical tests, and no one can explain his newfound abilities."
"Yeah. If this information is made up, somebody went to a hell of a lot of trouble to create a believable story," Disher said. "All this came from legitimate sources not tabloids or rags. I mean, there were articles in tabloids but-"
"We know what you mean, Randy," Stottlemeyer said.
"So what do you think, sir?" Disher asked. "Do we get him back in here?"
Stottlemeyer sighed. "Let's concentrate on our current caseload for the moment."
"But if he's legit, then someone might be murdered," Natalie insisted.
"I realize that; but until a crime is committed, my hands are tied."
"But, sir-"
"When I can spare any personnel, I'll send them down to that street corner. That's all I can do." Stottlemeyer walked away.
"Guess that'll have to be enough," Natalie said bitterly.
"He's doing everything he can," Disher said.
"If you say so."
"He's right, Natalie," Monk said.
Natalie looked at Monk and sighed. "I know."
III
"Got your doughnuts, eggs, bacon and some fruit in case we want to go healthy for some unknown reason," Bruce said setting his purchases down on the table in Johnny's hotel room.
"Thanks. I'm starving."
"Oh, and the morning paper." Bruce tossed the paper on the table and joined Johnny, who was eagerly unpacking everything.
"Wow, these are-." Johnny stopped chewing his doughnut.
"What's the matter?"
"This is her," Johnny set his doughnut down and picked up the paper. He sat down as he began reading an article on the front page. "'Ms. Vera Laney was reported missing two days ago by her neighbor. "She always tells me when she's going on a trip, be it personal or business," her neighbor Mrs. Brewster told police yesterday. "I feed her cats, you know. She just came back from a trip to Maine a few days ago and said she wouldn't be going away for another few weeks."' This is her."
"You mean her her?" Bruce asked sitting opposite Johnny and eating a strip of bacon. "Who is she?"
"I must have seen her and bumped into her. That would explain the vision."
"Oh, she's the her from your vision," Bruce said.
"Yes. But if I bumped into her why did it take so long to get a vision from her?"
"Maybe she was in a crowd and you bumped into a lot of other people as well. Maybe it just took a while for the visions to catch up. Or maybe she wasn't potentially in trouble yet. What I'd really like to know is how you didn't notice her when you bumped into her." Bruce took the paper from Johnny. "Mm-mm. Look at her. She's fine."
"You really need a girlfriend."
"Tell me about it."
"You are right though," Johnny said taking the paper back. "She is fine. And I get to dream about her."
Bruce tossed a bagel at Johnny.
III
"Look, I know we're not supposed to be here," Johnny told the guard at the door of the San Francisco Police Department. "But I know this woman." He held up the paper with Vera Laney's picture on the front page.
"Do you know where she is?" the guard asked.
"I might."
"Mr. Smith! Mr. Lewis!"
Johnny and Bruce turned to see Natalie and Monk approaching them.
"It's ok," Natalie told the guard. "They're with us."
The guard studied her.
"Captain Stottlemeyer just called Monk and asked us to meet them here."
"Is that true?" the guard asked Monk.
"Uh, yes. Yes it is," Monk said briefly making eye contact with the guard.
"Ok." The guard stepped back and opened the door.
"That's not true is it?" Johnny asked Natalie once they were all inside.
"I guess you are psychic."
"Well, thank you."
Natalie smiled. "You're welcome. You should also thank Mr. Monk. He doesn't lie for just anyone."
"Well then, I'm eternally grateful, Mr. Monk."
"Oh, it was nothing. Well, it was hard and I don't think that guard really believed me. I could go back and do a better job. But then he would know for sure. Wait-"
"Why the sudden change of heart?" Bruce interrupted.
"Well,…" Natalie started.
"You looked me up," Johnny said.
"Sort of. I mean I didn't. But-"
"It's ok." Johnny smiled reassuringly.
"We also called Officer Bannerman," Natalie said. "I did do that part."
"Yeah. He called yesterday and said he'd talked to you."
"Mr. Smith. Mr. Lewis," Stottlemeyer said coming out of his office.
"We let them in," Natalie explained.
"It's ok," Stottlemeyer said.
"It is?" Johnny asked.
"Yes."
"Captain," Bruce said. "I'd like to apologize for the other day. I get a little defensive when somebody dises my friends."
"Apology accepted. And I'd like to apologize for being short with you. Both of you."
"Apology accepted," Bruce said.
"Apology accepted," Johnny echoed. "The reason we're here is I know this woman." Johnny handed Stottlemeyer the paper. "Well, I don't know her. She's the woman I saw in my vision. She's the one who gets hit by the van."
"Are you sure?" Stottlemeyer asked. "Absolutely sure?"
"Yes." Johnny nodded.
"Ok. Do you have any idea where we might find her?"
"No. I can try to summon my vision and try to get more information."
"What about the van?" Monk asked. "Did you see what kind of van it was? Or who was driving it?"
"The van was a blue Suburban. I didn't get a good look at the driver. All I can tell you is he's wearing a hard hat."
"A blue hard hat?" Monk asked.
"Maybe. Like I said I didn't get a good look."
"Can you get a better look?" Stottlemeyer asked.
"Are you asking for my help?" Johnny asked.
"Yes," Stottlemeyer admitted. "Yes, I am."
"Ok. We'll have to help each other."
"What do you need?" Natalie asked.
"So far, the only times I've gotten a vision of this woman have been when I was asleep or touching that lamppost. Now, I could go back to the lamppost. Or, since I saw you in my vision, Mr. Monk, and you 're right here, I could just touch you."
"Ok. We'll meet you there," Mr. Monk said and started to walk off. "The corner of State and 4th right?"
"Mr. Monk, wait," Natalie called.
"It's ok. I fixed your mirror."
"What?"
"It was crooked, but it's ok. It's straight now."
"Ok, we'll talk about you not touching my mirrors later. But for now come back." She gestured with her hand for him to return to the rest of them.
"I don't understand. I thought we were going back to the scene."
"We don't have to," Stottlemeyer said.
"We don't?" Monk asked.
"I understand that you don't like being touched," Johnny said. "I'm not fond of being touched either. For different reasons probably."
"Definitely," Natalie said.
"But it's not like we have to hold hands or anything. I can just touch your shoulder or your sleeve. You'll barely feel my fingertips. I promise."
"Don't you want to know why you were running after that woman?" Natalie asked.
"Yes."
"I may not be able to tell you that from the lamppost," Johnny said.
"I don't know. I don't know," Monk said.
"We'll be right here with you the whole time, Monk," Stottlemeyer said.
Monk wrung his hands. "Oh."
"What's going on?" Disher asked walking in.
"Nice of you to join us, L:t.. Had a nice lunch?" Stottlemeyer asked.
"I know, I'm a little late, sir."
"An hour and a half late."
"That much?" Disher looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't."
Disher looked around at everyone. "So what did I miss?"
"The missing woman-"
"Vera Laney," Randy said.
"Yeah. She's the woman who was in Mr. Smith's vision. He believes by touching Monk he can get a better look at the driver of the van and possibly find out what Monk was doing there."
"By 'touching' Monk, huh?"
"Yep."
Everybody turned to Monk.
Monk moaned.
"Do you have to touch him directly?" Natalie asked.
"Not necessarily," Johnny replied. "If we both hold onto the same object, it could work."
"How about this/" Disher grabbed a pen from a nearby desk.
"That would work," Johnny said.
"Not that one," Monk said. "Someone's been chewing on the cap."
"How about this one?" Disher picked up another one.
"It's over halfway out of ink. Maybe if it was exactly halfway…"
"Ok. What about this pencil?"
"The point is uneven. This will never work."
"The point is uneven?" Bruce whispered to Johnny.
Johnny raised his eyebrows.
"What if Monk sits in a chair and you touch the arm of the chair?" Stottlemeyer asked.
Johnny nodded. "I think that would be fine."
"Ok. What do you say, Monk?"
"For the case," Natalie said.
"It won't take long," Stottlemeyer promised.
Monk closed his eyes and moaned once more. "Let's get it over with."
III
AN: I'm so very sorry I took so long to update this story. I've been working on this section in the mean time and creating a Valentine game to send to some friends in China.
I realize my story is mostly dialogue, and promise more action in the future. Thanks for your patience and keep reviewing. : l Couldn't figure out how to make a smile b/c the parentheses didn't show.
