17. Curse of the Old Gypsy Woman (D1)

__ Ardy paced the floor of the bedroom uncomfortably arguing with herself about telling Doug about the pending visit from the kid from Pizza King. She had left him in the front room, to keep the first watch on Munson, but hadn't mentioned what she read in the teen's mind.
__ Doug paced too. I walked back and forth in front of Munson's throne and scowled at the killer. He was holding the pistol in his right hand, waving it when his whispers became excited. He said, "I know she's lying. I know she saw something in that soft skull of yours." The pistol waved. "I should just blow your head off while she's sleeping -- say it was an accident."
__ Munson appeared to ignore him. He simply followed the bouncing barrel of the Glock. "Hey, hotshot, could you put that down?"
__ Doug snapped, "What? This?" He brought the gun up and pressed the gun to Munson's left nostril.
__ Looking cross-eyed down the barrel, the killer hissed, "Please. Please, Doug. Your finger is on the trigger."
__ "Shut up!"
__ Ardy opened the bedroom door and squinted in at the two. "What's going on?"
__ "We were just having a little--"
__ "Chat," Munson finished.
__ She came out and approached Doug purposefully with her hand out to take the gun. "Here. You better give that to me."
__ He tucked it under his arm and half turned away like a child concealing a toy. "No, no. That's okay. I got this."
__ Ardy stood her ground, hand out, and glared at Doug like a scolding mother.
__ After a moment, he relented and handed her the weapon grip first.
__ "Thank you." She turned and headed to the bedroom.
__ "Where are you going?"
__ "To bed. I'll sleep better knowing this is in here with me." And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving Doug defenseless with the duct-shackled killer.
__ Munson hissed a laugh. "I am gonna kill ya, you know?"
__ Doug smirked but stepped away. He backed to the couch and plopped down on it, never once taking his eyes off Munson and staring at him the way a coyote glares at a hunter. He yawned.
__ Munson smiled and began softly crooning Lullaby.
__ "Ha ha," Doug mumbled, "Very funny."

__ An hour must have passed, or maybe it was six or seven. Ardy couldn't be sure because her exhaustion hit her like a sledgehammer. She woke with a start as if responding to a sudden loud noise, but she was sure the sound was in a dream and not in the world. Glancing at her nightstand she saw both the pistol and her alarm clock. She had been asleep for forty-six minutes.
__ Rolling to a sitting position, she swung her feet to the floor and stood slowly. She strained to hear beyond the door to the next room as she lifted the pistol off the nightstand.
__ At the door, she opened it slightly. There was no creak to betray her spying. The room beyond was dimly lit by a small lamp on the floor by Munson's throne. She could see the killer's feet still securely taped to the legs of the chair, and beyond that she could see the dim shape of Douglas Testerbird stretched out in a fetal position on the couch.
__ As her eyes traveled up Munson's chair she felt a sudden chill.
__ He was staring at her. Unblinking.
__ His grin was slow, greasy, and reptilian. "Can't sleep, sweetie?"
__ Ardy opened the door all the way and approached the couch as Doug stirred and sat up.
__ "What's wrong?"
__ "Can't sleep."
__ Doug stood and stretched. "It's been a weird night. No wonder."
__ "No wonder," Ardy echoed.
__ Doug looked her up and down. She looked exhausted, defeated. Her eyes were baggy and her skin was dull. Her hair was matted and flat against the side of her head and her eyes were dark in the dim room. Ardy's downturned lips were sad, gray. He hated to see them this way, to see them any way but smiling.
__ That's when she stepped up to him and kissed him. It was a short kiss, dry, but their lips were warm against each other.
__ "You read my mind," he said dully.
__ "Go to sleep, Doug." She nodded toward the bedroom. "I got this." Her smile rolled up when she mimicked his earlier declaration.
__ Drained himself, Doug nodded and stepped past her and Munson to the bedroom and closed the door.
__ Ardy set the gun on the end table and curled up on her side, staring at Munson as he continued staring at her.
__ "This ain't too comfortable, ya know," he grumbled.
__ "You shouldn't have killed anyone," she yawned. Then, making it clear that she couldn't be moved by him, Ardy squirmed and rolled over on the couch, turning her back to him.

__ Munson woke with a jolt, as if the chair he was in suddenly came to life like "Old Sparky" and zapped a couple thousand volts through his nerve endings. His neck was stiff from hanging his head and a shock of pain raced down his spine.
__ Doug sprang bolt upright on the bed. "Ardy!"
__ Ardy rolled off the couch, her rump hitting the floor with a loud thud before she scrambled to her feet and snatched the Glock off the end table.
__ Doug threw open the bedroom door, and rubbed at his wide eyes. "What is it?"
__ Munson spat, "Ssh!"
__ Ardy craned her head to listen, the pistol aiming where her ears strained; toward the front door.
__ Then the sound of a car door slamming. Muffled voices.
__ "It's them," Ardy whispered.
__ Doug whispered back, "Them who?"
__ Munson couldn't read minds, but he had a feeling. "Pizza boy."
__ Doug made a face like he'd taken a big bit of a sour taffy apple. "What? What would he want?"
__ Ardy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her body relaxed a bit, her head tilted. Her lips moved in time with a muffled voices beyond the door.
__ Are you crazy?
__ I tell you she's here. She's here alone. And she's hot.
__ The old gypsy woman?
__ She's not a gypsy. She's a babe.
__ That's not what my gram says.
__ I can prove it.
__ Okay, so prove it. What're you gonna do -- just knock?
__ Don't have to.
__ The silence that followed was ocean deep. "Only two of them...." Ardy's eyes snapped open and focused on Doug. "Get back," she said in a normal tone.
__ The explosion of wood splinters and brass shards from the door latch rained into the room. The muzzle flash from the shotgun blew the door open in one night-splitting blam!
__ The Pizza kid stepped into the room -- ca-chuck! -- charging another shell into the chamber.
__ "C'mon out, gypsy girl," the boy called.
__ What happened next only took a few seconds but stretched into a slow motion eternity.
__ "No!" From Doug.
__ The kid started to whirl toward the sound of Doug's voice in the bedroom doorway, his finger tightening on the trigger.
__ Ardy screamed and raised the pistol. She squeezed off two quick shots as the shotgun exploded into the room again.
__ The kid cried out, a wounded yelp, and stumbled back. There was a grapple of arms around his shoulders and neck and two bodies tumbled backward onto the porch. The shotgun fell to the floor, the sound of it cracking to the floor was lost in a the shrill ringing in Ardy's ears.
__ Ardy raised the pistol again. A furious terrified flood of emotion exploded from her chest, down her arms, and squeezed the trigger for her. Two more times the pistol jumped in her hands, orange flashes popping and small brass shells tinkling deafly on the hardwood.
__ Doug was yelling something as Ardy continued forward.
__ Outside a car door slammed shut. Cries of pain continued from inside the car.
__ I got him! Ardy cheered herself within but simultaneously felt shame and regret. Oh, my God. He was just a kid!
__ Tires chewed gravel, then skidded on the blacktop as the car sped away.
__ The front door remained open.
__ As the roar of the engine faded toward downtown Covert, thunder mumbled in the distance.
__ Doug's arms folded around Ardy. She dropped the gun and turned to him, burried her face in his chest and cried. "Oh, God.... I shot him. I shot that boy."
__ Doug patted the back of her head, squeezed her. Said, "You defended us, Ardy. You didn't kill the kid. He'll be okay."
__ She shook her head against his shirt. She couldn't shake the images. "Nooooooo...." It was a long sob.
__ "Hey. Hey now," Doug took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. Their eyes flickered with a distant flash of lightning showing through the open door, a momentary current between them. "Listen to me: You. Did. Not. Kill. Him."
__ Ardy sniffed but could offer no argument. She heard his cries, saw a glimpse of the friend pulling him toward the car.
__ "His buddy is probably dumping him in the Covert E.R. right now."
__ Ardy sniffed again and fresh tears came.
__ "It'll be all right. Ssh, ssh, ssh."
__ Ardy let herself sink into Doug's embrace. She didn't realize how much she needed him now, to hold her up physically as well as mentally. Ardy hugged him tighter and called over his shoulder, "R. Lee," sniff, "You okay?"
__ Doug slowly released her and turned.
__ They both turned together.
__ Munson sat, his head thrown back. Blood drying on his face -- or what was left of it -- and down his chest.
__ This time Doug made no effort to stop Ardy's screams.