'How did I get mixed up with such a loser, Anna?' Lia's question somehow managed to be simultaneously earnest and rhetorical. His only joy was making her even more miserable than he was. He was a miserable man in a life where he no longer had a purpose, where his sphere of influence was reduced from affecting thousands over the years to this kingdom with only one citizen to rule. Her love was reduced to grinding resentment. Her thoughts returned to the man she'd lived with for so long. Could anyone remember everything to do at a time like that? Such a small thing and it led to disaster. Was there something in the water to make her sleepy? Only her hair had been wet when the EMTs arrived, a fact that led to months of controversy in the press and in the courts, racking up thousands of dollars in expert witness testimony. No puddles from a distraught husband dragging her out of the tub.

She was sure he had to clean it up because his wife thrashed around in the bath while he was holding her under. His wife's skin was dry when the EMTs arrived and he had cleaned up the bathroom. She recalled the Harris case, which blew up because he delayed the 911 call too long. If she were present and had to face EMTs, could she pull off acting dazed and grieving? Could she time it right, the call to 911? That would mean an unattended death and maybe an autopsy. What would deflect suspicion? If she were gone when it happened, she could arrange an alibi. And if potassium changed the color of insulin, he'd notice. Could she sneak it into his syringe? Could she set it up so he would give it to himself while she was away? But the syringe would have a chemical residue. No one would notice the injection site because he took daily insulin shots. It mimicked heart attacks, and he'd already had two.

Potassium Chloride was virtually undetectable. Then retirement brought his domineering ways home and the man who was a big fish in a very big pond now thrashed around in her little puddle, making life miserable with his endless demands. Could she do it? Years with this man were endurable while he was pursuing his ambitions, working long hours and out of town for days at a time. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. All of the characters, places and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.Īll rights reserved.

To the two and four-footed friends who share my mornings.

A Shot in the Bark by C.A. Newsome