A Key to Murder

Here is another attempt at a short story contest, but this time for 750 words or less.  Didn't make the finals, but Rome wasn't built in a day either.  Hope you enjoy it and again, I would love to hear your comments.

Ron rubbed the back of his head trying to massage away the pain.  

What the heck, he thought, staring at the red goo on his hand.  

Bewildered and disoriented he began to do an inventory his possessions.  Franticly he began searching his coat pockets, then his pants, and finally his bag.  His house keys were no where to be found.  

Darn, he thought, where could I have left them.

He stopped and turned to head back to???  Oh yeah, the coffee shop.  Looking around as he entered the shop, his head dropped as he realized it wasn't there either.  

He opened his phone. There was a text from his wife - I have to stop by the house real quick before dinner.  See you at Tony's...order me a Long Island.  

He pressed the redial button and waited to hear his wife's sweet voice; something to overcome this chronic pain.
 "Hello," the voice on the other end responded.  

"Jenny???" Ron questioned.

"WHAT!!!  I thought you took care of that," the voice questioned.

"Sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number," Ron stated a bit dumbfounded as he closed his phone.  
He stared at it for a moment a bit puzzled, wondering how the number had been dialed in the first place...and that woman's response.  My goodness! he  thought.  Wouldn't be the first time a butt dial ended up in his phone.    He dismissed it and brought up his contacts list.   "H-h-h-h, there it is - Hot Mama," Ron mumbled as he pressed his wife's contact entry.  He listened for her sweet voice.

There was a response from the other side, "You have just reached..."

Ron flipped the phone shut.  "Where is she?!?" he stated a bit frustrated.  His head was still pounding.  I will head her off at home, he thought.  So he hailed a cab and headed uptown.

In less than a minute he was in front of his brownstone apartment.  He could see the light pouring out of the open door as he crested the stairs.  He sighed.  

"She is going to get herself hurt one day," he whispered as he shook his head.  He entered slowly and began to tip toe back to the kitchen.  Scaring her when she did these sorts of things was priceless.  She hated it of course, but it brought him a little pleasure and taught her to keep the door closed....maybe not.  

"AAAAAHHHHH!" he shouted as he leapt into the kitchen.  No Jenny.

She must be upstairs, he pondered.  He immediately went back into tip toe mode.  Silly as it was, since she most likely heard his intruder roar.  Didn't matter though it was part of the act.

Up the stairs carefully, being careful of the C-R-E-A-K.  

He sighed.  Darn it, I thought it was the other one.  He listened carefully for stirring, but nothing.  So he continued his ascent.

As he rounded into the hallway, he noticed a smeared red goo running along the length of the walls.  

"What the...???", He sprinted to the bedroom and swung open the door.  His heart began to pound.  Jenny lay across the bed motionless.  

He grabbed her in his arms, "Babe, can you hear me?"       

"J-E-N-N-Y!!!"

"HELP," he screamed knowing though that no one would hear through the brownstone's walls.

"No, no, no, no...."  His eyes began to search the room erratically both in fear and rage.  In his current state he hoped to catch a glimpse of the intruder.  

No sign of anyone else...but he did notice one of their large book ends laying in the center of the floor, next to several bloody foot steps leading to the bathroom.  He laid his wife down gently, picked up the bloody bookend and kicked open the bathroom door.  

There was blood on the counter...

...in the shower, and...

...all over a pile of HIS clothes in the floor?!?

"What the HELL!!!" Ron shouted trying to put together the episode in his mind.  

"R-o-o-o-n," a voice whispered in the distance.  

He sprinted to his wife's side hoping that she was coming to.  Turning her over he was in awe by what he saw.  There were knife wounds everywhere and she still lay lifeless.
   
"R-o-o-o-n," the voice continued.  As if coming from his head.

He turned to look at the vanity and saw a grinning image of himself in the mirror.  

"I did it, Ron!" proclaimed his sinister reflection.

That's when he saw it...his keys in Jenny's hand.  What had they done?!?