chapter 113

word count: 1448

the sound of the doorbell was a rude awakening.. mark johnson opened his eyes,, looked at the clock and realized that in just 16 minutes he was going to be late for work,, well actually mick was going to be late, but at this point names were just a technicality.. 

he sprang from the bed,, threw on a thick terry cloth robe and headed downstairs.. 

“mother,, who was at the door?” he nearly sang out as he took the steps two at a time,, he was gonna need a stiff cup of coffee before he did anything else, despite the time.. 

as he rounded the bend on the staircase he saw whomever it was seated comfortably in a wing-back chair closest the door.. some old lady. probably a friend of mothers.. 

“good morning girls!!” he greeted them cheerily as he bounded down the stairs and tried to make his way through the parlor and into the kitchen without making actual eye contact.. he was running much too late for further conversation..

“mickey,” his mother clued him in by calling him his dead brothers name,, therefore  stopping him in his tracks.

“mickey,, this is mrs. dunn.. she is detective miller’s housekeeper. it seems detective miller didn’t make it home last night,, and mrs. dunn here, felt she had reason to believe our house was the last stop he was known to have made..”

mark threw on his most engaging  ‘pleased to meet you’ face,, and extended his hand in greeting..

‘well good morning mrs. dunn!” he exclaimed,,  perhaps a bit too excitedly. “may i say it is my pleasure to meet you!”

mrs. dunn shook ‘mickey’s’ extended hand with some trepidation,, as she and mrs. johnson had only just begun discussing the extremely strange,, albeit equally unfortunate mix up of the day before,, and in some way it felt as if she was shaking hands with a dead man.. and an uncharacteristically cheery dead man at that.

“good morning detective.” she responded,, somewhat visibly shaken.

“mrs. dunn and i have just been going over the most unfortunate chain of events that led up to her detective millers stopping by last night.” mrs. johnson’s voice cracked,, and she covered her mouth with an age spotted hand, as she appeared to be holding back a sob.. 

“i’m sorry, mrs. dunn,, you will have to excuse my mother,, this has been a horrendously difficult time for her,, what with being informed that i had been found murdered,, only to find out moments later, that it was actually my twin brother, mark who had met with his own untimely demise.. i am sure you will understand her state of mind,, considering she was forced to more or less mourn the death of both of her sons in the course of a single hour..”

mark, clearly felt the situation here was ever so much more important than showing up on time for work..  after all,, he had lost his ‘brother’ under some very suspicious circumstances only yesterday.. surely his 'fellow detectives' would understand his need to spend some bereavement time with his aged mother..  

“surely.. my condolences.. to both of you.. yes, yes of course.” whispered mrs. dunn as she crossed her hands somberly in her lap and took genuine pity on the both of them.. 

surely this family had been through enough in the course of the last 24 hours.. perhaps she had been selfish in coming here in the first place.. ‘after all,’ she thought to herself,, ‘there was still the possibility that detective miller was just keeping company with that disgusting trudy hunt..’ maybe she should have explored that option before she took it upon herself to darken the door of a poor woman who was already shaken by the untimely death of one of her sons.. 

“i was on my way into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee,” mark continued. “may i pour you one as well??”

“oh my!” mrs. johnson seemed to quickly come to terms with her grief. “where are my manners??”

“sit ,, sit mother!! i will just bring in a tray..  please,, ladies,, continue on with your conversation,, i will only be a moment..” mark said as he sashayed into the kitchen,, momentarily forgetting all about the necessity of appearing  ‘straight’.. 

fortunately, mrs. dunn was too caught up in self-doubt to notice.. she focused her attentions, once again on mrs. johnson..

“i am so sorry.. i am only just now realizing the selfishness of my visit.. perhaps i should go..”

as her voice trailed off mrs. johnson interjected, “i wouldn’t think of it!! we have been through this before,, with the loss of my dear husband stanley just over a year ago,, and we will make it through this..” 

she had successfully turned the tables, and was now attempting to console mrs. dunn,, as she could not allow her to leave,, at least not yet.. she had yet to competently explain detective millers comings and goings in such a way as to relieve all mrs. dunn’s suspicions that he had not been seen since he made his visit here early last evening.. ..

“but you already have so much on your plate.” stated mrs dunn, as the kitchen door swung open,, and mark entered carrying a sterling silver tray of coffee and all its accoutrements.. 

“surely you would rather be alone with your son.” continued mrs. dunn.. “there are so many arrangements to be made..”

“now, now,” mark picked up on the conversation as he set the tray on the ornate coffee table and took a seat nearest his ‘grieving’ mother.. 

“we’ll have no talk of your leaving,, after all you came here on a matter of business that is very important to you,, and mother and i both realize that life goes on,, and must be dealt with despite the tragedy that has befallen our family.”

with that,, he placed a gentle caring arm around his mother’s age arched shoulders.. ‘god, i am good at this!!’ he congratulated himself as he gingerly kissed his mourning mothers cheek,, and then proceeded to focus his attentions on the coffee.. 

“well i was just concluding my explanation of how detective miller showed up here last night and had just delivered the devastating news of your untimely demise,, when you called, as if from the grave, to inform us,, detective miller and myself that is,, that it had in fact been your brother mark that had met with his own gruesome end..”

“and did she get to tell you about how genteelly detective miller treated her under such devastating circumstances?? how he stayed here and cared for her,, even gave her a much needed sleeping tablet,, and sat with her until she was peacefully at rest and i could get home to watch over her?” mark went on to explain,, as mother was still unaware of the ‘facts’ as he had presented them to hank bowers later on the previous evening and needed to be clued in.. 

“no, no she didn’t..” mrs. dunns voice trailed off as she realized this put the prospect of detective millers leaving here and falling into the arms of that disgusting woman, trudy hunt, all the more real a possibility.. surely he would have felt the need for comfort himself after such an emotionally taxing evening.. 

“oh he was wonderful to me.” mrs. johnson replied in conformation.. “i couldn’t have asked for a more considerate, caring soul than your detective miller to be here with me through it all..”

punctuating her last statement with a quick breakdown into tears,, mrs. johnson reached for one of the cloth napkins mark had brought into the room as a part of the coffee service and deftly wrapped it around her hand,, using it to blot her tear stained cheeks.. 

“now,, now,, mother..” mark consoled her as he turned,, almost nonchalantly to mrs. dunn.

“do you take cream, sugar, or both?” he asked as he held aloft a delicate china cup and saucer.

“both.” replied mrs. dunn in a quiet voice,, almost ashamed she was engaging 'mickey' in serving her, at a moment in time in which she should, in her own opinion, have been seeing to it that their needs were met..

as mark set the cup and saucer ever so gently in mrs. dunn’s slightly trembling hands,, she could have sworn she heard something thumping around on the floor directly above her head.. 

having hear the thumps himself, mark jumped at the opportunity to quickly explain it away.. 

“you’ll have to excuse muffy,, our german shepherd.. she doesn’t respond well to visitors,, so we keep her in her crate whenever we have guests in the house..” he rationalized, as he dutifully returned to his seat next to his still visibly grieving mother.. 

“one lump or two, mother dear??”