[ WP ] A husband and wife take out life insurance policies , and both try to kill the other without being caught .

The average human body contains about five liters of blood, and Helen looked like she'd already lost two. She sputtered at me like an angry kitten, hissing droplets of blood between the perfect teeth she'd once spent a fortune on keeping as white as porcelain. A part of me took no pleasure in seeing her prostrate on the floor before me, but another part knew this was coming. For all her planning, she deserved it and I relished the victory. 
 
 Still, I was n't angry with her. After all, I loved her once. I was mostly disappointed that such a smart woman would use the same account to pay for the sudden increase in my health insurance policy as she would for the man she hired to kill me. The deeper I dug, the darker the rabbit trail became. 
 
 `` Bastard,'' Helen said, clutching at the hole in her stomach. `` How did you know?'' 
 
 Admittedly, I hesitated when I shot her. I'd been aiming for her head, but flinched when I should've been strong. Since she was n't as dead as her boyfriend, I figured I must've nicked an artery somewhere instead of anything vital. Her male friend was n't so lucky. The little gray cells decorating our vanity told me I did n't need to check. 
 
 `` One tends to notice withdrawals in the sums of thousands of dollars, dear,'' I said. I knelt next to her, brushing the hair from her face so I could see her eyes. She did have pretty eyes though they always held a hint of greed within them. 
 
 `` And Ricky?'' She asked, groaning. 
 
 `` I expect he wo n't be staying for dinner,'' I said. 
 
 My thoughts strayed to the emergency call I'd have to make soon. I could play the grief stricken husband quite well, but I still poured myself a glass of bourbon to calm my nerves. Helen always hated the drink, *raison d'etre* to finish up this little contest she'd started. Hell, the woman was half the reason I drank to begin with. I surmised she expected to drive me to an early grave through sheer bitterness, but I was tougher to kill than she expected and I never gave up. Not surprising then that she was the one with a hole in her stomach. 
 
 `` Poor Ricky,'' Helen muttered through half-closed eyes. `` He did n't deserve this.'' 
 
 `` *Poor Ricky, *'' I mocked her. `` Ricky got exactly what he deserved.'' 
 
 `` He was my lawyer,'' Helen said, again hissing blood-tainted spittle from between her teeth. 
 
 `` Still...'' I shrugged. `` You were planning on killing me. Do n't deny it now.'' 
 
 Though I kept my face calm, my stomach was doing flips and I felt like I wanted to vomit. I braced myself against the desk, hiding the fact that I was near collapse. If she was correct, then it meant a pending divorce and even further suspicion cast upon me. I could always bring up proof she was trying to kill me, after all I'd saved those conversations, but had I proven it was him? I only knew she'd consulted with *someone* and that could be *anyone*. Come to think of it, she never did mention *how*. 
 
 `` Of course I was,'' Helen shuddered. Her skin began to take on a paler tone; signs our conversation was near its end. Then she grinned a bloody, malicious smile and pointed to my glass of bourbon. `` Too bad you beat me to it.'' 
 
 `` You heartless...'' I tried saying, but my mouth felt like I had swallowed cotton. 
 
 `` I guess we both win,'' She coughed. 
 
 `` Not by far,'' I groaned and collapsed to the floor. 
 
 I felt for my gun, but remembered I'd set it next to the bourbon. No matter. I only had to outlast my darling wife. The human body only held five pints after all and she looked like she was on her last one.
