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and was about to cut him loose. He knew that Milo and Walter were sticking their nose into his boss’s business, so to impress Wolfe and secure his position in the ranks, he murdered Walter.’’
    I noticed Milo had stopped eating. ‘‘Thank God you weren’t with him,’’ I said to him.
    ‘‘No,’’ Milo said. ‘‘I could have stopped it. Walter didn’t have anyone watching his back, and that’s why he died.’’
    My left side felt thick and heavy, my sign for ‘‘nope.’’ ‘‘I doubt that, Milo. It seems to me that if a smart and experienced detective could be ambushed, then his not-very-seasoned sidekick wasn’t exactly going to see it coming. You’d have been the second casualty.’’
    Milo pushed his plate to the middle of the table. ‘‘There’s no way to know for sure,’’ he muttered. ‘‘Anyway, let me go out and get that file.’’
    After I heard the front door close, I turned to Dutch and said, ‘‘It wasn’t his fault.’’
    ‘‘I know,’’ Dutch said. ‘‘But that doesn’t mean he won’t feel guilty about it for the rest of his life.’’
    I nodded soberly, then asked, ‘‘So how do you figure into this?’’
    ‘‘When Walter was murdered, it opened up a vacancy. I’d been working undercover vice in Detroit for a couple of years, and needed a change of pace. I applied for the job up here and got it.’’
    ‘‘And that’s how you and Milo met,’’ I said.
    ‘‘Yep. The first case we worked together was Walter’s murder.’’
    ‘‘Must have been a good feeling to put away the guy who did it.’’
    ‘‘Bittersweet,’’ Dutch said as he put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. ‘‘Walter had a wife, three kids, and four grandkids.’’
    ‘‘How is it that Lutz is up for parole after only a few years?’’ I asked. ‘‘I’d think someone like that would go away for a long, long time.’’
    ‘‘We never got a chance to go to trial with it. The son of a bitch DA offered Lutz a plea bargain and the coward took it. He got twenty years, eligible for parole after eight.’’
    ‘‘And you and Milo are going to make sure he serves his full sentence.’’
    ‘‘That’s the plan,’’ Dutch said, nudging my leg with his.
    Just then, we heard the front door open and Milo called from the living room, ‘‘I got the file.’’
    I stood up and grabbed a few dishes. ‘‘You two go do your strategizing. I’ll clean up in here.’’
    Dutch got up and came around the table, pausing to kiss me on the neck before he went into the living room to join Milo. As I worked in the kitchen, I could hear the two of them talking, their tones low and serious. I thought about the change in Milo that came over him when he talked about his former partner, and worried that he was carrying around so much guilt. It wasn’t his fault he’d had a kidney stone, after all. The poor guy.
    Putting the dishes into the dishwasher, I wondered if there was something I could do to help Milo realize that he wasn’t to blame. That was when I got the bright idea to ask Dutch later on if he wanted me to tune in on the case file—maybe I could come up with another bit of evidence that would help them at the parole hearing.
    Looking back, I think I would have been better off minding my own beeswax.

Chapter Two
    Dutch was off to work early Tuesday morning, with promises to take me out to dinner that night. I had agreed to look into his three FBI cases and give him some feedback over dinner. I’d been too busy getting my office cleaned up and ready for Candice’s arrival to offer my services before now. I also made a mental note to bring the Lutz case up at dinner that evening.
    Since Candice was coming into town later in the morning, I decided to get up right after Dutch left and take a gander at the files. I was walking groggily down the stairs with Eggy in tow, trying to shake off sleep, when I felt something furry brush against my legs. In the next instant, I was