A/N: Part 2 of Imaginary Confessions is based on the second half of the episode "Mr. Monk is on the Run" from Season 6. This begins when Adrian is presumed dead, thus the reason for this story being in two parts. Thank you for reading and for any comments you care to leave.

Even hours after she'd received the phone call from the San Francisco Police Department on behalf of Captain Stottlemeyer, Natalie still couldn't believe it. Her friend, the man she'd been hired to take care of was dead; shot on the pier by, of all people Leland Stottlemeyer. It just didn't seem possible, but she'd seen the footage with her own eyes; the confrontation, the gun being drawn, the shot, Mr. Monk falling into the water.

He couldn't swim. Mr. Monk couldn't swim. And the one person; the most important person who should have known that was the Captain. Why had he done such a thing to a man who had done nothing wrong? The fact that Mr. Monk might have survived the shooting was of little consolation, because after falling in the cold waters of the San Francisco bay, he would have drowned, his life ending that much later.

She'd just seen him the day before, when he was here, in her home, busy sorting pieces of a puzzle that was left haphazardly on the coffee table; arranging each piece by color and diameter. And then he'd put the puzzle together in record time, stunning both her daughter Julie and herself. How was it possible that someone could put together a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle without so much as a glance at the box? But then again, Mr. Monk never ceased to amaze her.

She started to cry again, wishing that the phone call she'd received was but a bad dream. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't be. Mr. Monk was a detective; a brilliant detective and he could take care of himself. So why…

So many why's and how's and incomprehensible feelings were swirling through her head. When she'd told Julie the news, Julie had freaked out; first calling Natalie a horrible liar and a terrible mother and then breaking down in her arms. She and her daughter had cried forever, each of them grieving in their own way for the man they loved. Mr. Monk didn't deserve to die this way; no one did. He might have been a little weird... Okay, he was very weird But Mr. Monk loved his wife and spent his life trying to find the person responsible for her death. And now he would never get that chance.

Natalie wished there was something she could do. Anything. Anything at all to-.

Of course… the pictures. She'd make a collage of pictures she'd taken of him over the years; a memento of the man she loved; even if that love was only in friendship. He'd like that a lot. And she'd display it at his memorial service where everyone-

She gasped her hand flying to her chest.

Memorial service

Oh God… How was she going to cope without him? Everywhere she looked there were reminders of him; a closet full of wipes, clothes that needed washing, pictures of Trudy….

Trudy…

They were together now; of that Natalie was certain. And it should be a huge consolation, but it did little to soothe her aching heart.