15. Messenger of The King (D1)

__ Munson's stomach grumbled audibly. "I'm hungry," he muttered. The killer's head hung low, his face was lined and pale and sweat dotted his forehead. He appeared -- from what Ardy could see anyway -- to be a beaten man. Weak. Resigned.
__ She wasn't going to risk it.
__ Doug walked up to her and looked down at Munson. "What do you want?"
__ Ardy glanced at him, a crinkle in her brow saying, "Are you serious?"
__ But Doug continued with unbridled sarcasm, "Here. I got a couple bucks. Ardelene, why don't you untie our friend here so he can make a run out to McDonald's for us?"
__ Munson tried to raise his head to meet Doug's gaze, but all he could do was stare at the buttons on his shirt.
__ "C'mon," Ardy nudged Doug. "Help me in the kitchen. He's not going anywhere and we need to talk in private." Then she knelt before Munson, put her hands on his knees.
__ Doug put a hand on her shoulder to urge her to not be so close, but she ignored the gentle reminder. To Munson, she said, "Look. I know you're not thinking about leaving. You're scared. In fact, you're scared that you're not going to make it through the night." She glanced at Doug and shivered visibly. "You might be right, R. Lee."
__ Doug caught the look and the shiver and thought about shooting back, "What? Me? I wasn't going to --," but thought better of it. It's a good thing he had. A glint in her eye gave away Ardy's tactic.
__ Leaving R. Lee Munson to stew in his wonder of what the night would hold, Doug and Ardy moved to the kitchen.
__ Doug squatted down and started picking up the silverware. Ardy moved to the sink and started dampening a kitchen towel to wipe up the blood.
__ "You'll probably want to re-wash all these," Doug said inspecting a fork, "Where's your dishwasher?"
__ Ardy smiled and tossed him the wet towel. "You're it."
__ As Doug finished picking up all the silverware and scrubbing it in the sink, working at bloodstained cutlery with an S.O.S. Pad, Ardy knelt down over the puddle of her own blood and started hand mopping the spot. Periodically, she would turn and glance over to Munson's immobile throne. The killer wasn't moving.


__ After a few moments of silent scrubbing, Doug said, "So, um."
__ "Would I go out with you if ya asked?" Ardy said without looking up.
__ When he didn't answer she looked up at him. Their eyes met for a brief second and she flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Doug. I didn't read your mind, I swear. I was just finishing your thought."
__ He nodded slowly at first, then smiled as her sincerity sank in. "I don't know if I could date someone who could read my mind, tell the truth."
__ "I could imagine," she said. "But just think of all the good stuff. We'd never get into any fights because I'd always see your side."
__ "We'd always get into fights because you'd see that I had a side."
__ Ardy raised an eyebrow, "But don't you think most couples get into overblown arguments because they misunderstand each other?"
__ "Do they? I've never...." He let it trail off as he decided whether to place the forks tines up or tines down in the drying tray.
__ "Never what?"
__ Doug took a deep breath, jammed the forks tines-down in the utensil tray. "I've never really had a lasting relationship. Not long enough to know what a fight would be like anyway."
__ Ardy rose and stood next to him. She pried the forks out of the tray and rearranged them tine side up. When their eyes met, she smiled at him.
__ "Now if I could read your mind...," he laughed.
__ She sighed and started wringing out the bloody towels. "I wish you could, Doug."
__ He saw her chin quiver slightly and shyly moved away, went about adjusting the chairs around the tiny dinette. He kept glancing back at her until finally he gathered up the courage.
__ Stepping up next to her, Doug reached into the sink to take the towels from her. When his hands closed over hers, he paused. She looked up at him, her gaze distant, detatched.
__ Doug said, "There is a way I can read your mind, Ardy."
__ Her face formed the question.
__ "Just tell me," he whispered. "Tell me what you saw... when you were...."
__ "Dead."


__ The kitchen was cleaned top to bottom. After the blood and broken drawer bits were cleaned up, Doug and Ardy went about scrubbing down the rest of the room. As Ardy cleaned the oven ("Can't tell you the last time I did this"), Doug worked at dusting higher shelves and replacing ant traps. They talked and laughed. There were quiet moments where Doug risked putting a hand on Ardy's shoulder. But she never told him what she saw or heard while her body's heart was stopped.
__ "So you lived here in town your whole life and I never saw your anywhere but the store?"
__ Doug wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he replaced the final glass in the cabinet. "No reason to, really. I mean, aside from church, I didn't need to go nowhere. I live above the store, ya know."
__ Ardy asked him what church he attended.
__ "St. Matthews, across town."
__ "Why there," she wondered. "Isn't Trinity closer to where you live? That's where I go."
__ He shrugged. "Dunno. Like the drive I guess."
__ Ardy thought about it. The route from the general store to St. Matthews on the other side of town cut past Crescent Lake and through Palley's Woods. It would be a beautiful drive, especially in the fall. "I see."
__ "Strange," he mused without offering anything further.
__ "What's that?"
__ "All this time, I could have seen you every Sunday."
__ "Instead of just the odd Wednesday when I go to your store."
__ "And sometimes Saturdays."
__ They shared another smile together. Neither one had thought about R. Lee Munson in the other room until a loud knock boomed at the front door.
__ "Oh, my God."
__ Doug held up a hand. "Are you expecting anyone?"
__ Ardy shook her head but still glanced up at the clock. It was after 9 p.m. "No. Nobody."
__ They both went into the main room which was aglow from car headlights beaming through the closed blinds in the front.
__ There was another bang at the door. "Hello!?" The muffled voice on the other side was male, young. The car was running and loud rock music thrummed from what could only be an open driver's door.
__ "Who?" Doug started, but Ardy held up a hand to silence him. She was staring at Munson who was sitting up straight in the throne, still bound, but intently focused on the door. He was smiling mischievously.
__ He turned his head slowly toward her and her new friend, the store clerk. His smile twisted slightly. "I told ya. I told ya I was hungry."
__ Ardy and Doug followed each other's gaze to the table next to Munson. Somehow he had managed to lean into it enough to leverage it toward his chest. The satchel the killer had brought in had been sitting on one end of it the whole time. Munson was able to bounce the table enough to overturn the case and spill the contents toward him. Ardy saw syringes, vials, handcuffs, plyers, rubber gloves, a couple small 35mm film cannisters, and a cell phone.
__ The phone had been chewed open.
__ Ardy gasped. Doug moved quickly for the Glock and held it at the ready.
__ She read Doug's thought, He called for backup!
__ But she also read Munson's.
__ "I was hawwwwwwngry," Munson said in a mock whine.
__ Pounding on the door resumed and made Doug and Ardy jump.
__ The young man outside tried one more time. "Pizza King. Anybody home?"