“Never did either.”
“Neither did I. What sheltered lives we’ve both led. I don’t think I would want to.”
“No.”
“And yet it’s appealing on a pure fantasy level. Isn’t that strange? Why should it be exciting to imagine something that you really wouldn’t want to do in a million years? Do you know what I mean?”
“I do.”
“In fact, just a few minutes ago, when we were...”
“Enjoying each other’s company.”
“Uh-huh. I was imagining having another person in the bed with us.”
“It doesn’t seem to have inhibited you.”
“No, it was hot, wasn’t it? Maybe sometime we could, you know, bring the fantasy to bed with us.”
“Not another person, but the fantasy of another person.”
“Uh-huh. Talking about it, playing with the idea. That might be fun.”
“It might.”
“You know, I sometimes truly don’t know what to make of myself. I’m a dutiful faithful wife and a loving mother, a model of middle-class morality, and I can fantasize about three-way sex while four people are spread out on white tables in the morgue in Bailey’s Bluff, Illinois.”
“Baker’s Bluff. And I don’t know if the town’s big enough to have its own morgue.”
“That’s something else we could Google, but probably won’t. Though we’ll most likely find out when it’s on Dateline. Do you really think it’ll be on Dateline?”
“Unless 48 Hours gets there first.”
“Won’t it be hard to get an hour out of it? I mean all they’ve got is the 911 call and the crime scene. Though I guess there’ll be interviews with neighbors, his colleagues from work, anybody who knew her. Melania?”
“That’s right.”
“Todd and Melania Overmont. Well, those are good Dateline names, aren’t they? Will they tie in the Marlboro Man?”
“Harold? I’m sure they will. My guess is they’ll figure Roy or Pete killed him in order to get a clear shot at her.”
“That hammer you bought—”
“Well, if they found Pete and Roy dead, and one had his head bashed in and the other had a hammer in his hand—”
“That’s what was going to happen?”
He nodded. “Until the Late Great Marty Robbins ruined it for me.”
“I always loved that song. Oh, you know what I bet happened? Todd shot both the men, Roy and Pete, and Roy tried to get his gun off the bedside table, and maybe he got off a shot and maybe he didn’t, but he wound up dead and so did Pete.”
“Well, I think we know that much is true.”
“No there’s more. And then Melania wrapped her arms around Roy, or it could have been Pete—”
“Roy’s more likely.”
“And she’s all, ‘Oh, how could you do this?’ when Todd was hoping for something more along the lines of ‘My Hero!’ And he finally sees her for what she really is, and he empties the gun into her.”
“And then reloads? Because he’d need one more bullet.”
“Roy’s gun. He picks up Roy’s gun, calls 911, and then finishes the job. I was wondering how Dateline was going to get an hour out of it, and now I’m beginning to think it’ll be one of their two-hour episodes. The less they know for sure, the more room they’ll have for speculation. Do you suppose they’ll interview the kid from the supermarket?”
“If they find him.”
“‘She was a nice lady. It was always a pleasure to give her a hand.’ How long do you think it’ll be before it airs?”
“No idea.”
“I can’t wait,” she said. “Oh.”
“What?”
“Well, you’re not going to chase the story on the internet, so will you watch it on Dateline?”
He nodded. “That’s different,” he said. “That’s television.”
“We’ll have a little premiere in front of the TV set. I won’t run out and buy a new outfit for the occasion, but I’ll dress up nice.” She squeezed his hand. “And you can wear your fedora.”