Buried

What Darlene buried in the back yard

Image by Krzysztof Jaracz from Pixabay

“Darling, what did you bury in the backyard?” Al couldn’t quite keep a quaver out of his voice. Surely Darleen could explain.

“The pool boy,” she answered without looking up from her book. “He pissed me off.”

Al felt behind him for the chair before slowly lowering himself onto it, desperately trying to decide what to do next. Darlene had been off for weeks. Months, really, if he was honest about it. And her temper had been horrific. But murder?

Al opened his mouth to speak, then shut it as Darlene closed the book, a murder mystery, his mind noted, as if it mattered. She regarded him, cool as a cucumber.

“Really, Al, I don’t see why you’re so upset. You complained about Josh all the time.”

“Sweetheart,” Al said, trying and utterly failing to sound placating, “You can’t go around killing people who make you angry.”

“Afraid you might be next?”

Al bolted to his feet and put the chair between Darlene and himself. She laughed and stood to face him as Josh stepped into the living room.

“Ready to go, Dar?” Josh, who, though he cleaned the pool, was anything but a boy, asked.

“What the hell is going on?” Al spluttered, furious at his wife’s cruel joke. Wondering who, or what, was actually buried in the backyard.

“I’m leaving you, Al. You had one affair too many, so I had one of my own. Josh is far better company.” She picked up her book, slipping her other hand into Josh’s. As they stepped out the door, she threw over her shoulder, “If you dig, you’ll find the originals of your secret ledgers. I made copies and sent them to the police before emptying our accounts.”

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I’ve really been struggling with the effects of long COVID again and have turned to reusing my BMAC stories again. I hope you enjoyed this recycled tale of revenge.