““Was she always that friendly?" I joke. "She saw Robert. At least I got that out of her." "Maybe she buried him in the backyard." "Stop." "Did you smell it in there?" "Yes." "That wasn't a normal smell. That wasn't the sort of something's-gone-bad-in-the-garbage smell. That was the sort of Dahmer-next-door smell." "Stop it." "I'm serious," I say. "It's probably just some dead animal." "Oh, well, in that case, it's fine.””
