Final Act Dianne Yetman (popular ebook readers txt) 📖

by garbage.  The police found the killer four hours after her body was discovered.  He was a drugged up unemployed husband and father of two.  The do-gooders lobbied the prosecutor to seek a shorter sentence.  The man had no advantages in life, had been sexually abused as a child, compassion was needed.  He got off with manslaughter, three years later he was back on the street.

Kate refused to go to Sonya’s funeral, to school, or to come out of her room.  Her parents tried to talk reason to her behind the closed, locked door but eventually gave up.  Her brothers would bring daily trays of food and leave them outside her door. She ended her exile a week after the funeral.  Came out of her room one morning, dressed, ready to go to school.  Spoke to her parents and brothers as if nothing had happened.  ,

Four months later, she had a boyfriend, one year later; she was in University, her eye on a law degree, two years later living with Alan, a med student.  She was determined to become a prosecutor.  Throw the liars, murderers, and scum of the earth in jail for as long as they system would allow.  In her last year, she and Alan went their separate ways and she made her decision.  Sending criminals to jail from the courtroom wasn’t hands on enough for her.  She needed to spit in their eye, wrestle them to the ground, put on the handcuffs and grill them until they broke.

Kate could feel a headache coming on.  It wasn’t going to be pretty either if she didn’t get some medication into right away.  She ran to the bathroom at hangover speed, opened the medicine cabinet, grabbed the bottle of extra strength, and swallowed two tablets dry.  The bathroom drinking glass was in the dishwasher.  Ducking her head under the tap, she managed to wash away the residue dry powder.

She knew she had to get out, out in the fresh air, or her day off would be wasted a deluge of self-pity.  A natural athlete since the age of six - walking, running, swimming, hiking her way through adolescence into adulthood – she decided to walk through Point Pleasant Park and follow up with an intense workout at the gym.  If that didn’t help get her mind off her problems, then nothing would.

She pulled on a pair of black jeans, a red wool sweater and socks, laced up her walking shoes and grabbed her hat, mitts and scarf and gym bag out of the closet.  Gym bag hoisted to her shoulder and bouncing against her back, she left the condo and made her way to her car in the underground parking lot.

Sitting behind the wheel of her black Beamer, she revved the engine, charged up the exit ramp, turned left, tires squealing.

1:45pm

Jeffrey Stone was used to getting his own way.  He wasn’t winning this one and didn’t like it anymore than the other ones he had lost but he knew he had to tread carefully.  It wasn’t someone he was willing to toss aside the first chance he got for it was his docile, compliant wife, Catherine, who was refusing to do his bidding.  He took a deep breath switched to the role of the confused, but albeit, supporting husband.

Catherine, however, was ready for him, stood her ground, refusing to move back to New York city because of his opportunity to direct Hamlet on Broadway.  If the offer had come three years ago, she would have packed up and followed him.  Not now.  Not with what she now knew.

“I’m not going, Jeffrey, and it doesn’t matter what strategy you choose to change my mind, it won’t happen.”

“Why, Catherine?  Why won’t you go?”

“Because I have my own life, my own friends, and I’m not putting them aside as I’ve done for 35 years.  I gave up everything for you, Jeffrey, remember?  You were a young stage assistant when we met; I was the hit of Broadway.  I didn’t begrudge it, giving up my career, taking a back seat, playing the role of hostess to your ambitions – and damn good job of it too.  It wasn’t a sacrifice because I was in love.  You were my passion but not anymore.”

Colour drained from his face.  His hands shook.

“If I’m not your passion anymore, Catherine, then tell me who or what is?”

“I owe you nothing.”

“I’m going to meet the Board of Directors and will change at the theatre.  Think about what you’re doing Catherine, think very carefully.  I’ll call you from New York.”

He turned and stomped out of the room. She stood rooted to the spot, relief coursing through her veins.  She did it.  The depth of her contempt, hatred for him allowed her to stand her ground.  She was through with him.  Her lawyer would have someone at JFK when his plane landed later tonight to serve him with the divorce papers.

She wasn’t going to let him off easy.  The bastard would be getting away with too much as it was.  If he fought, she was ready for him; she had the proof locked away in her safe.  The front door slammed.  Slammed shut on what had once been her life.  A wasted life expect for the children - grown now with families of their own.

She may have been too much in love to see what was now obvious, she may have thrown years away for someone who wasn’t worth it, but one thing she had been was a good mother.

She heard the front door slam and a sigh escaped her.  She was alone.  She dialled the number she knew by heart and even though there was no one around to hear her, she spoke in a whisper.

“He’s gone and won’t be back.  He doesn’t have a clue.  Now’s the time to put the second part of our plan into action.”

2:45pm

Kate sat in her favourite waterfront cafe and ordered lunch.  She felt much better, though it had taken a longer walk and