Tuesday night, I stood in the air freshener aisle at Target, just staring and wondering, "What would Linda buy?" The true story of Linda Jacobs, who died alone in her Monterey apartment—except for a decades-old, mummified corpse of a woman believed to be her mother.
Francesca “Linda” Jacobs sat on her living room sofa, her head resting on a cushion and her feet almost reaching the floor. The front door to her second-story apartment near Dennis the Menace Park was cracked open just wide enough to let Reynoldo, a little neighborhood cat, come and go as he pleased.
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