Leonard's fingers drummed on the desktop. His other hand clutched the bank statement. A balloon payment was due in a month. He knew about it. At the time of signing the loan, the ten years seemed like a long time ahead, but here he was, facing the final payment on his house, and hadn't been able to find the financing. He had "overextended his credit," said Mr. Whitaker at the Belview Savings and Loan. He didn't have enough assets to cover the monthly payments. And now with the balloon payment coming, over seven hundred thousand dollars, due next month. What could he do?

He self-soothed himself with the drumming noise on the desk, but it only served to release nervous energy. If he let the car go for what he owed on it, that would free up two grand a month, but he still needed a car to get to work. And how could he drive a beater to a prestigious law firm? And who would want to hire an attorney who drove a piece of crap car?No, not the car, maybe the condo in Miami? He punched in Doris's number, his realtor in Florida.

"Hi, Doris, it's me, Leonard Sprang."

"Well, hello Leonard. How are you?"

"I am well, just thinking about selling the condo. How are things moving down there?"

"I wish I could say better. We could do that, but right now the state is on a downswing. People are moving out, not in. And it's the wrong time of the year, but we can do that. Any major changes in the last few years that you've made?"'

"No, we love it the way it is. The HOA fees have gone up, some."

"Oh, I see that. Ouch. That could deter a few buyers because of the monthly expenses,"

"Yes, there were some maintenance issues and a pool to refurbish." Leonard's breath came out in a heavy sigh. "Look, Doris. I'm having a bit of a cash flow problem and would like to sell this unit, let's say fully furnished, shall we? If you could stop by the condo, I'll have the doorman let you in for pictures.  Give me a price it will sell at."

"Sure thing, I can do it in a few days. I'll let you know when I can get there. Call you on this number?"

"Yes, please."

"How is Elenor?"

"She is well, thanks. She doesn't know that I made this call. I would appreciate your discretion."

"Of course, Leonard. I'll get in touch in a day or two."

"Thank you, Doris. You have yourself a good day." He punched the call off his cell and pulled more paperwork out of his desk.  Leonard had to have some assets he could sell. For the last twenty years, he did nothing but buy, but the more he looked, the more he realized he'd put everything on payment plans. As long as he could make payments, he looked like a rock star in his life, but now, he had spent whatever he had coming in to make and maintain payments.He begged Whitaker, nearly got down on bended knee, asking the man to write out a new loan for another ten years. He was this close to being successful. He held his thumb and index finger close to one another and shook them in Whitaker's face. The man smiled wanly and said, as gently as he could, "The party is over." That bastard!

Leonard pictured his wife's face when he told her they were going to lose the house, that he was bankrupt. She would be so disappointed. He dug deeper into the drawer and drew out another handful of paperwork.

Elenor had life insurance.

Leonard swallowed hard. He held a million-dollar policy in his hand. An answer to all his troubles, and he would have nearly three hundred thousand to put in the bank after paying off the house. He shuddered at the thought, then threw the policy on the "no help pile." But after some thought, he grabbed the paperwork off the pile again to take a second look.Double Indemnity. If Elenor were to die in an accident, the policy payout amount would double, and he would have 1.3 million in his pocket by this time next month and own his home after making the balloon payment. The policy cash value was $400,000. With the sale of the condo, he might be able to make that balloon payment, but only if the condo were sold.If the condo didn't sell, he was screwed. The insurance policy was worth more in force than it would have been to cash it in.

Poor Elenor. He pictured himself crying while his grown children tried to console him. He was so brave, having lost his wife of thirty years. What was Elenor's demise? He wondered.

"Dinner's ready." Leonard jumped.

"Oh, thank you, I'll be right in." She closed the door behind her, and Leonard was hit with a wave of guilt.

"I haven't done anything," he told his conscience. "Yet." He slipped everything back into the file drawer and walked to the dining room.

Elenor had outdone herself. She'd made a special meal and lit tapered candles for ambiance.

"This looks lovely, my dear." Leonard looked at his wife lovingly and noticed she had a waddle in her neck. When did that ugly thing appear? Sure, he had his fair share of skin tags and cellulite, but they both worked out and took care of themselves. It was the lavish lifestyle they lived, he thought to himself.

"What do you have planned next week?" Leonard asked his wife.

"What do you have planned next week?" she repeated.

"I'm thinking we should go on a cruise. It's been a long time."

"Oh, that would be lovely. Where are we going?"

"Let me call the travel agent. Somewhere warm. We can go swimming and snorkeling. It will be fun."

"I love that idea!" Elenor clapped her hands, and he saw the waddle well, waddle. Oh, that was ugly. To have a neck like a turkey. If Elenor realized this was her fate, she would absolutely hate it. He was saving her from her biggest fear: old age.

Leonard poured the wine, and they toasted their trip. The table had been set. Now he had to figure out a way of making it happen. Elenor's death. She had a million-dollar, double-indemnity policy, and he wanted the whole thing.

"The water is lovely. Look at that shade of blue."

"It is lovely and does look inviting."

The cruise was only eight hours, so there was no berth to retire to. They gambled and lost more money than they had. Elenor pulled out the credit card and paid an exorbitant fee for more cash. Leonard couldn't be mad; Elenor didn't know they were on a sinking ship. Let her have this last hurrah, he thought. She would be paying off the house with her death. What was a little gambling debt? They went back to the bar, and Leonard bought another drink.

"Leonard, slow down. We still need to get to the hotel tonight." He smiled at her, inwardly cringing at the waddling neck. "Shut up!" he shouted in his head.

At nine o'clock that night, the boat docked in Freeport. A man with a sign stood at the end of the gangway with names scrawled on a piece of paper.  "MR. and MRS. SPRANG, Princess Hotel and Resort"

"That's us," Leonard told the man and handed him a tip. The small black man escorted them to his car and drove them the few miles to the resort. The door opened to the main lobby, where a distinct smell of mildew assaulted their noses. No doubt, the wet carpet and the smell made the place seem a little rundown.

"Wow, no expense spared," Elenor snarked.

"I will make it up to you, dear," Leonard replied. "It's nothing alcohol won't cure." Elenor snorted a laugh and followed the bellhop who carried their bags.

"Room 103." The man turned the key in the lock and brought their bags in. "The bus leaves every hour on the hour. "

"Every hour on the hour, to where?" Elenor asked.

"To the beach."

"We aren't on a beach?"

"No, ma'am. I'm sorry, but the bus will take you there and back. Free."

"Leonard, where did you book us?"

"It's only a mile or two from the beach. You won't have a bunch of tourists milling about. Think of it as an adventure." Leonard assured his wife. Their bags were placed on platforms in the room, and the bellhop stood there expectantly. Leonard sighed and tipped him also.

"The Ballroom is still serving until midnight, if you are hungry, and the casinos are open all night." The man left them.

"Leonard, this is a dump," Elenor said sadly.

"We are here to snorkel and swim. The weather is what we are here for. I booked a catamaran tour for us tomorrow. Your grumpy mood will disappear once you see the fish and the beauty in the coral reefs."

"Maybe you are right."

The catamaran raced along the water. Leonard and Elenor sat in the center of the canvas and hung on for dear life among the other people who had paid for a snorkeling excursion. Half an hour offshore, the boat stopped, and a man handed out snorkel gear and life jackets to the passengers. Those who had never snorkeled stood in the shallow water and watched the instructor explain how to put on the equipment properly.

Leonard and Elenor left the group behind, being seasoned snorkelers. The coral was lovely, and he pointed to different fish darting in and out before them. When they got a distance away from the group. Leonard pushed Elenor underwater, and her snorkel was cut from the air. She attempted to stand, but he didn't let her up. She fought with all her might, finally managing to get herself out from under him and swim away.

"What are you doing?" she sputtered, trying to stand up.

"Oh, Honey, I fell, and I got my flipper stuck in the coral. I couldn't get up. Are you alright?" Leonard gushed over his wife. Elenor looked at him suspiciously but wanted to accept his excuse.

"I nearly drowned!"

"I was caught, I panicked, and hung onto you. I shouldn't have grabbed you on the way down, but I was afraid."

"Let's get back to the group." Elenor coughed up the salty water, and they swam to the catamaran.

At dinner that night, Leonard told the waitstaff that his wife was very allergic to shellfish, yet he still ordered the lobster bisque for himself. The waiter set down his soup and gave Elenor her salad.

"This is wonderful," Leonard said, scooping the soup into his mouth. "Try some." Elenor reached over, and he put a spoonful toward her mouth. She recoiled at the smell.

"Leonard, is that lobster?"

"Oh, my God. I forgot."

"Leonard, what's wrong. Tell me, honey."

"Elenor, we are broke. I have a balloon payment of over $700,000 due next month. The bank won't extend my credit."

"Why didn't you say something sooner? I could have helped."

"How could you help. We've bought everything we've ever wanted on a payment plan. We don't have any more credit, babe."

"But I do."

"How much do you have?"

"Over a million."

"You saved over a million dollars?"

Well save might not be the right term." This news of this made Leonard choke on his soup then he felt nauseated. Leonard had been willing to kill her to deal with his financial problems.

"Elenor, I should have confided in you. I'm sorry. Honey, can you forgive me?" Leonard doubled over.

"What's wrong?" Elenor asked.

"I think the lobster was bad. My cramps are excruciating." Leonard pulled his knees up and moaned.

"No, the lobster was fine. Remember Doris, the realtor from Florida who sold us the condo? We became very close. You called and told her not to tell me you were selling my condo? Ever hear of aconite? It's extremely poisonous and untraceable. A small amount can cause neuro and cardiac events. Don't worry, it's very quick." Elenor smiled at her husband as it dawned on him what she was saying.

"When?"

"When you tried to get me to taste the soup, I knew that was no accident, snorkeling. And now, my dear, you are about to have a heart attack, when I tell the hotel doctor that you have had a long-standing heart issue, I will have you cremated and shipped to me in the U.S."  Leonard slipped off the chair.

"Help, someone. My husband has a bad heart. He is having a heart attack. Please, someone, help him."

Elenor played her part perfectly. The grieving widow and her husband went on a vacation where he inhaled his lobster bisque, causing him to have a heart attack. Leonard's death was deemed accidental, and the insurance paid the double indemnity clause.

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