DEAD(ish) Part 5

"I willed it all to a cat shelter, years ago," she said, finally cracking out a proper Linda-ish grin. "I told Mike I'd left it to him, then changed my will to leave it to the cats he'd only have lost it on the pokies or something dumb, you know?" She snickers. "So he killed his golden goose, the moron!"

I heave a sigh. She's a tough one, but this whole thing must've hurt her like h.e.l.l.

"Yeah, it did," she says quietly, looking at me.

(Linda) So that's it. Mike's in jail, and he's scared s.h.i.+tless. Out here, he can pretend to be a decent member of society. In there, everyone knows him for an a.r.s.ehole, you see. They won't kill him, though. They'll just make his life h.e.l.l for a few years, and that'll do for payback. Unless, of course, wherever I'm going will let me come back once a year and tattoo come-on lines on his back. That'd be fun.

You've been sweet. You've sat there and listened to this whole sordid story, and you've never once told me I'm a b.l.o.o.d.y idiot. Thanks for that.

Bye.