III

"Ok, let's do this," Monk said sitting beside Johnny.

He immediately stood again.

"Ok." He sat.

"Wait." He stood.

"Ok." He sat again and wiggled in the chair. "I can't sit in this chair. It's bumpy."

"Bumpy?" Bruce asked.

"Don't ask," Stottlemeyer said. "Randy, get him a different chair."

Disher wheeled over a new chair.

While he was helping Monk switch out the chairs, Natalie whispered to Johnny, "Do it as soon as he sits down again if you don't want to be here all day."

Johnny nodded and waited for Monk to get the chair in perfect line with his own. Finally, Monk seemed ready, so Johnny put his fingers on the arm of Monk's chair.

He saw Monk that morning counting the raisins in his muffin and removing one. His vision fast-forwarded through Natalie arriving to pick Monk up and head to the station. Monk stopped to point something out on his neighbor's porch. Johnny couldn't guess what since the porch was bare. Then his vision skipped ahead.

The sun was setting. Monk and Natalie were standing on the porch of a house in the middle of a field.

Natalie knocked loudly on the door. "Maybe no one's home."

"Someone's here," Monk said. "He or she arrived recently. I can tell by those tracks." He pointed to some footprints in the sandy path leading around the side of the house. "This slight breeze is only now starting to distort them."

"Then we're at the wrong door."

They walked off the porch and followed the footprints to find the side door ajar.

"Shall we?" Natalie asked.

"She's here. I know she is."

"You sound like Johnny."

"Well, so far evidence points to this house as the most likely-"

"I didn't mean it as an insult."

They stepped into a darkened room. Monk sneezed, and Natalie waved her hand in the air. Dust swirled around.

"Wow, somebody hasn't cleaned in…longer than me."

Monk said something but his words came out muffled.

"Huh?" Natalie turned around to see he had his hand over his mouth and nose.

Monk moved his hand enough to make his words a little clearer. "If I make it out of here alive, I'm going to be sick for a week. Maybe two."

"Oh please. You'll be fine."

They stealthily moved further into the house and stopped at the entrance to a dark hall. Natalie felt along both sides of the entrance for a light switch but didn't feel one.

"I've got a penlight in my purse in the car," Natalie whispered. "But we should probably take our chances now."

"You sure?" Monk asked. "I don't mind going to get your purse."

Natalie smiled. "We'll just take it nice and slow. Give me your hand."

"What?"

"So we can stay together. Come on, you can use a whole pack of wipes afterward."

"I'd rather not."

"Ok." She took one step then another and was in pitch black. She shuffled forward with one shoulder against the wall. She stopped to let her eyes adjust. Monk bumped into her. "Careful," she hissed in a whisper.

"I thought you wanted to stick together."

"Holding hands would be easier."

"Maybe next time."

"I'll hold you to that." Her eyes having adjusted as much as they were going to, she started forward again. About seven shuffle-steps later, a board creaked, and she stopped. Again, Monk bumped into her.

"Grr."

"Sorry."

"Sh."

They waited a moment, but apparently they hadn't been heard.

"Are you sure someone's here?"

"Positive."

Natalie moved on. Suddenly, her foot sank up to her ankle.

"Ow!" she cried and bit her lip to prevent a further outburst.

"What happened?"

"My foot's stuck." She tried twisting it to pull it out. Then she knelt and groped around to learn the position of her foot and the surrounding area. "This board feels loose." She tugged on it. "If you help me pull, I think I can get my foot out."

"Ok." Monk felt his way down the wall and around Natalie's back to her side. "Where?"

"Here." Natalie found his hands and placed them on the board. "On three. One, two-"
"By three, do you mean we pull as you say three? Or after you say three?"

"Does it matter? My ankle hurts."

"Yes. It's very important."

"Ok, ok. Pull as I say three."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! One, two, three."

They pulled together, and Natalie was able to maneuver her foot free. She sat down against the wall and rubbed her ankle.

"You ok?" Monk asked feeling his way back to the wall.

"I think so. Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"I'm gonna try to get up now." Natalie placed her hands against the wall and started to ease up. She was almost standing again when several boards broke and she fell through the floor. She landed on something hard not far under the floor with a thump, and the boards continued to fall. They landed several feet below her.

"Natalie?"

A few more pieces of broken board fell.

"Natalie?" Monk groped to his knees and leaned toward the hole. "Nat-"

"I can't move," she groaned.

"Wha-, why not?"

"I don't know. It feels like something's in my back. I think I'm bleeding."

"Stay there. I'll go see if I can get some light."

Natalie coughed.

Monk moved as fast as he could back down the hall.

Johnny's vision then focused on Natalie. She was lying on her side on a shelf hung from the ceiling of the basement. She had landed on a jagged piece of one of the broken boards. It was stuck through her heart, and there was a growing dark patch of blood on her back. Blood trickled from her mouth, and her breathing was raspy.

Johnny was catapulted back to the police station. He let go of the chair.

"Oh," Monk moaned and closed his eyes.

Both men had beads of sweat across their foreheads.

"How you doin'?" Johnny asked.

"Monk?" Stottlemeyer said when Monk didn't answer.

Monk cleared his throat. "I'm ok." He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up.

"I need a little air."

"Ok, come on." Natalie stood and took his elbow. "Way to take one for the team," she praised as she led him out.

"He'll be ok," Disher said.

"Yeah," Stottlemeyer agreed.

Johnny leaned onto his knees and put his head in his hands.

"What about you?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I'll be fine," Johnny said without looking up. "Just give me a minute."

"Coffee?" Disher asked Bruce.

"Yeah. Johnny/"

"No thanks."

"Aspirin?"

"No. Just a minute."

"Ok. Got it. Going away," Bruce said and followed Disher.

III

"Here's the report you asked for, Lt." A woman handed Disher a sheet of paper. "Sorry I took so long, sir. There were five people on that gun registration list who owned vans. Four of those vans were easy to locate. The fifth one proved very difficult."

Disher perused the sheet and smiled. "Thank you, Officer Williams. Good work."

"No offense," Bruce said as he and Disher took their coffees and headed back to the group. "But your friend is a little odd."

Disher laughed. "He has some strange ideas and habits, but he's the best detective I've ever met. And no offense, but your friend is a little odd too."

Bruce smiled. "Yeah, well. You gotta know him."

They joined Johnny and Stottlemeyer at the same time as Monk and Natalie.

"So, what did you see?" Natalie and Stottlemeyer asked.

Johnny recounted his vision.

"I guess it's a good thing we weren't holding hands," Monk said.

Natalie glared at him.

"You said this house was in the middle of a field?" Disher asked Johnny.

"Yes."

"Sir, we just got the report Monk asked for back. One of the listed owners of one of the vans has an address on Route 5. There's a lot of field area on Route 5."

"That could be the house Mr. Smith saw," Stottlemeyer said. "Let's check it out. Maybe we'll get lucky and find Vera Laney there."

"Really?" Bruce asked with a twinge of skepticism. "You're all of a sudden on board with this?"

"Well, it's the only lead we have at the moment."

"True."

"You said one of the owners of the van?" Monk asked Disher.

"Yeah. Apparently there's a dispute over who the actual owner is." Disher consulted the paper. "Currently, three people claim the title. Mr. Clint Simms, Mr. Anthony Malone and Mr. Tucker Vance."

"Vance as in Vance Construction Company?" Monk asked.

Disher consulted the paper again. "The same."

"Ok, Lt., contact Mr. Vance and have him come in for questioning."

"Yes, sir."

"The rest of us will proceed to that address on Route 5."

III

Six police cars drove down Route 5. Two stopped at the edge of the field corresponding to the address on the report. Two more stopped on the road at the beginning of tire tracks in the dirt path leading to the house.

Stottlemeyer's car and a second police car continued to the house.

"You're absolutely sure this is the house from your vision?" Stottlemeyer asked. "Never thought I'd ask that question."

"I told you earlier when we drove by that this is the one," Johnny said from the backseat.

"Ok." Stottlemeyer turned off the engine. He and Monk got out of the front seat, and Stottlemeyer opened the back door for Johnny, Natalie and Bruce.

Two officers got out of the other car.

"Stay outside unless we call for backup," Stottlemeyer ordered. "In the event we need backup or you hear weapons fire and can't contact us, radio the others to assist and get inside after us."

"Yes, sir," both men said.

"The footprints haven't been made yet," Monk said.

"Ok, but we'll still check it out," Stottlemeyer said.

The group bypassed the front porch and headed for the side door. Just as in Johnny's vision, it was ajar.

"Shall we?" Natalie asked.

AN: Thanks for the wonderful reviews.