A woman of substance.The underwear had pained her greatly. It was swimwear - of a somewhat unusual sort. The kind of thing some bimbo on the make migh... wear in order to entice some sad bastard of a rich, but not very attractive, man. Her flesh had literally crept as she had put these items on. With loathing and disgust she had looked in the mirror at her obscenely attired body, seeing some caricature of herself staring back at her. What people will do to be rich!After making herself up, she. “Jake, would you attend me?” Jerry asked.“I’m right behind you,” he said.Jake looked at Caldwell. He had never seen a dead body. He had never been responsible for a person’s death. Maybe not as responsible as Cox or the shooter, but Caldwell had only been in this room to meet his end because of Jake.But he didn’t feel guilty. Not even particularly regretful. Humanity wasn’t out much with Caldwell dead. The only problem, as far as Jake was concerned, was that without his testimony, the burden. More

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