9. Brain Washing (D1)

__ No! Ardy wanted to scream. But in that brief millisecond, she actually thought her shout would do more harm than good. What if it was a bluff? What if R. Lee wasn't going to shoot Douglas? What if her scream would be the blame and cause for the hardwood to be stained not only with Pepsi, but with the blood and gray matter from Douglas' head.
__ So, instead, she mouthed the words, Please don't. Don't. I'll do anything.
__ Munson's smile faded slightly, then returned, like that of a mischievous child who was halted in an act of vandalism only to think of something better to do that was even more dastardly.
__ Douglas rose from the floor. "T-There. I think I have it all."
__ Munson took the soiled towel from him and removed the cigarette to blow smoke toward Ardy. "Not a problem, Doug. I sure do appreciate y'er help."
__ As the killer returned the sopping rag and towel to the kitchen, Ardy took a quick step toward Douglas and whispered harshly, "What are you doing here? You should leave. Leave now!"
__ "W-Whuh?"
__ From the kitchen: "Hope ya don't mind, sis. I asked Doug to stay with us tonight. Ain't that right, Dougie?"
__ Leaning toward Ardy, but twitching his ear toward the kitchen, Douglas Testerbird seemed to be trying to listen to two conversations at once, perplexed at the possible meaning underlying one and the tone overshadowing the other.
__ Ardy stepped closer, said, "Don't stay, Doug. Trust me. Just leave now. He's crazy. He's a --"
__ "Lunatic," Munson finished from the kitchen doorway. He was holding the Glock in one hand and leveling down its sites to the suddenly shivering Douglas Testerbird. The cigarette, now an orange-tipped nub, danced between his lips.
__ Reflexedly, perhaps from one of those shows he watched all the time, Douglas raised his hands high over his head and slowly eased them down behind his skull, interlocking the fingers. "P-Please, Mr. Jacobi, don't shoot."
__ Click.
__ Click.
__ Click. Click.
__ Munson squeezed off four shots at Douglas, but the gun either misfired, jammed, or was out of bullets. Not knowing anything about guns, Ardy had no clue what the answer was. A resolution to the question, however, soon announced itself in Munson's tale.
__ He said, "See. You can put yer arms down, Dougie. I can't kill ya. Ardy took all my bullets."
__ Douglas slowly lowered his arms, glanced between Ardy who was studying her brother and R. Lee Munson, whose gaze was like a hawk, piercing Douglas the frightened bunny. "I-I don't understand."
__ "She took 'em," Munson repeated. He stepped into the room. "I haven't seen my sister in years, ages. I was feelin' pretty low on m'self, and was plannin' to come back here to commit.... To commit...." Munson did an admirable job of conjuring up fake tears, albeit the soap opera variety.
__ "Suicide?" Ardy and Douglas asked together.
__ Munson sniffed. "I was gonna blow out m' own brains, I was. Ardy stopped me."
__ Douglas looked at her as if searching for more. Ardy let her gaze drop to the floor.
__ Munson stepped up to the two of them, raised the pistol, then spun it on his palm so he was handing it, grip first, to Doug. Lunging quickly, Ardy snatched it from his hand and stepped back before Douglas refused the offer.
__ Playing into the skit for now, Ardy cocked her head and said, "There, there. I told you to leave this alone. You took it outta the night stand, didn't you?"
__ Munson smiled. He was obviously loving the fact that she was playing along, but -- more frighteningly -- he seemed nonplussed by losing the weapon. He lowered his head and acted, "Yer right, sis. I-I'm sorry." Then to Douglas, "I didn't mean to scare ya, Mr. Birdtester."
__ "I-It's Testerbird, and that's okay, R. Lee. That's okay. You can just call me Douglas." Then to Ardy, his hands wringing, the new guest repeated, "Y-You can call me Douglas."
__ "Maybe you should get dressed, Ardy? Now's we got comp'ny," R. Lee said, and spat the cigarette butt onto the floor before mashing it out with his boot.
__ The heavy gun in her hand, Ardy turned quickly and shut herself into the bedroom. She looked around quickly for a place to hide the weapon, but nothing sprang to mind. She moved from dresser to bed, under the bed, the closet, an old shoe box; then she moved to the attached bathroom.
__ Gently removing the heavy porcelain toilet tank cover, she set it aside and dropped the pistol into the chilly water, then she replaced the lid.
__ Returning to her room, she pulled a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse from the closet and began to dress herself. She wondered what the killer and the admirer were talking about.
__Admirer? Yeah, she guessed that's what he was. She had a secret admirer and, the greatest secret of all was that she never knew. She didn't know Douglas Testerbird had a thing for her. She assumed there were other people in his life, or even in the store, he talked to more regularly than she. Ardy was just a customer after all, and didn't know or even care about his favorite TV shows.
__ But, back when she was in his mind, she detected something. He didn't care that she seemed to feign interest at some subjects, listened to others, or honestly told him she didn't know or care about what he wanted to discuss. He was moved by the simple fact that she looked him in the eye and listened to him. That's all it took to snag his heart.
__ After she pulled on her sneakers and tied them tightly (in case she found herself running for her life), Ardy took a deep breath and froze. A thought chilled her.
__ Now what? R. Lee Munson was a homicidal killer with delusions of family he can never have. Why would he want to keep Douglas around? Why the story about being Ardy's brother? What was he planning? While she was unconscious, Munson could have dealt with Douglas easily and hid his car around back with the other two. You can't hang a man for the same crime twice, right? Why is he keeping him here?
__ When the truth came, Ardy gasped and her eyes widened. She looked up at the door, as if she could see through it to the room beyond where the two men stood. He's going to use Douglas to get to me. He can't wrap his head around this psychic business any more than I can, but he can't leave me. I know too much. And... he's attracted to her.
__ Ardy stood and went to the door. Great, she thought. All my life I could never get a man to look at me. Now I have two and they both give me the creeps. As she opened the door, she found herself feeling guilty about thinking of Douglas that way. He was the innocent. If she cut out everything she knew about his deepest thoughts and his desire to get to know her better, he would seem no more bizarre than the average geeky lonely man. Munson was the creep. Munson was scum. He was crazy.
__ Maybe, she thought, there's a reason for Douglas to be here now. Maybe it's divine providence, or whatever, that brought him here at this particular moment. Maybe the unexpected general store owner, even a little too shy and geeky around the edges, maybe he could save her from Munson's unhatched plan.
__ Maybe he will be her knight in shining armor.
__ I never had one of those, Ardy thought sheepishly.
__ As she stepped into the room, she saw R. Lee Munson lift the crystal ball and bring it down hard on the back of Douglas's skull.