<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FFBF40">Betty Richardson</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="https://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Admin/BkFill/Default_image_group/2011/11/18/1321638328207/A-women-smoking-inside-a--007.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/>Betty Richardson was still at home getting ready for work when she got a call from Claire Wilson, her best friend.<span style="color: #FFBF40">"Hello?"</span>she answered as she looked for her keys. She was running late, though it didn't really matter. She was the only person who would be in this early to begin with.<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BF80FF">"Betty? Oh my god, Betty. Mrs. Walker is just an absolute mess right now,"</span></span>came the reply, voice full of excitement that promised juicy gossip--but there was some worry in there...somewhere.<br/><span style="color: #FFBF40"><br/>"What? Why would Mrs. Walker be a mess?" </span>she asked, finding her keys and throwing them in her purse. She walked over to her heels, phone pressed between her shoulder and ear while she slipped them on one at a time.<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Apparently Dennis didn't come home last night, she thinks he's been kidnapped..."</span></span><span style="color: #FFBF40"> "Now Claire, don't you go spreadin' rumors like that! You know full well that man likely just ran off with another woman."</span>A chuckle could be heard on the other end and Betty smirked.<span style="color: #BF80FF"> <span style="font-style: italic">"Oh, Betty! You are so terrible. You know, I heard that she found him at that little joint down the road...oh what's it called? Shoot...I can't remember. You know, the trailer they turned into a bar...the one with all the christmas lights?"</span> </span>Betty nodded her head as she straightened, though Claire couldn't see it.<span style="color: #FFBF40"> "Yeah, yeah. I know the place. They still haven't gotten their liquor license...I'm gonna have to tell the Sheriff about that one..."</span>she said as she opened the door, locking it behind her. She headed for her little red sedan, getting in and starting the ignition.<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BF80FF"><br/>"You're just a party pooper, those folks ain't hurtin' nobody,"</span></span>Claire said, and Betty could practically hear her smile.<span style="color: #FFBF40">"Three drunken lot fights and a beat wife, Claire. I'd say that's a whole lot of hurtin',"</span>Claire gave a dismissive hmph, and Betty rolled her eyes.<span style="color: #FFBF40"> "Look, I have to go. I'm on my way to work. Try not to spread too many rumors about Dennis and Martha, okay?"</span>Claire mumbled out something about of course not, and the two women hung up. Betty gave a sigh, shaking her head with a small smile. Claire was a trip. She backed out of the driveway and began to head towards work.<br/><br/>Around ten minutes in of driving down an old dirt road, Betty saw something strange in the middle of it. She had thought maybe it was a deer at first, but it definitely didn't have the right coloring. Slowing down she pulled over, stepping out of her car in her black heels. She squinted her eyes, then cautiously stepped forward, blocking the sun from her vision with a hand.<span style="color: #FFBF40">"What in the world...?"</span>She came a little closer, leaning over to get a better view of it. It smelled absolutely terrible and she had trouble not gagging. Flies surrounded it, but it looked like clothing was on it--as she examined it further, she realized that it was a torso with female clothing. No head, no arms, no legs--just a rotting torso.<br/><br/>She stumbled backwards some, turning around and running towards the grass so she could let out her breakfast. She heaved a few more times, frantically begging her body to hurry up so she could call the police. Finally she stood on shaky legs, making her way to her car to grab her phone.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBF40">"Hello? Oh god, listen...I think...I think I found a body on Travis lane...yes the dirt road. This is Betty. Betty Richardson.."</span>She grabbed her pack of cigarettes, shakily pulling one out and lighting it. So much for quitting.