Did he really have to ask the same question day in and day out? his wife wondered. It wasn't as if she'd once forgotten in the last twenty-five years to make his coffee just the way he liked it.

"It's just about done," she called back in her business as usual tone. Their new coffee maker made dual travel-size mugs, so two personalized cups could be brewed simultaneously. John had to have his hazelnut, while Sally liked a robust Columbian blend.

Taking John's mug from the brewer, Sally added a little bonus to the flavoring. Well, perhaps flavoring was the wrong word since the poison was supposed to be undetectable. John would only taste the hazelnut brew. And who would look for a poison in the autopsy even if they decided one was necessary? There was no reason to suspect Sally. No motive, not even a hefty insurance policy. She had nothing to gain by her husband's death. Well, nothing except her freedom. She longed to be like the women of her book club. Mostly widows, they talked about exciting trips and coming and going as they pleased with no husbands harping at them to do this or do that.

On the surface, Sally and John appeared to be the perfect couple. Quiet, respectable neighbors with lifelong friends. No kids, they kept to themselves. She, a stay at home wife. He, the breadwinner and VP of a small local company.

"Here you go," Sally said, securing the lid of the mug and handing it to John as he breezed through the kitchen on his way out the door. He barely pecked her on the cheek as he grabbed his keys from the counter. The man was about as affectionate as a gnat. Maybe she'd find herself one of those sexy young gardeners like Carol did. Sally hadn't dated much before marrying John at age 20.

Sally watched him through the kitchen window as he walked to his shiny Mercedes and set his briefcase and mug down near the car while he retrieved the morning paper from the end of the driveway.

A headline must have caught his immediate attention as he chirped the driver's door open and started to hop in with only his briefcase in hand. Sally's heart thumped. "The coffee, you idiot!" she half-muttered. As if John heard her, he exited the vehicle again to retrieve the travel mug. Sally breathed a sign of relief as John backed out the driveway.

John entered the offices of Primary Image and greeted his secretary, Mona.

"Before you get too comfortable, Alan would like to see you," she said.

Now what? John thought. When the big boss asked for a meeting, it usually signaled trouble.

"Let me just drop this in my office," he said, briefcase in one hand, coffee clutched in the other.

"Here, let me," Mona rose to take the items. "John, that coffee smells wonderful."

John smacked himself on the forehead. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mona. I was going to bring you some. I've been so absent-minded lately. My wedding anniversary is coming up and all I can think about is getting Sally something special. I've been trying to act really casual around her." He laughed. "More than usual, even. I know she thinks I probably forgot, and I don't want to tip her off."

"That's so sweet."

"Tell you what, you can have my mug. I promise you I haven't sipped from it yet."

"Deal," she answered. "I really need a boost this morning."