"You look awfully happy today, Stan. Did you score with that babe from Louisville?"
"Yes, but that's not why I'm happy. If everything went right last night, I'm on my way of being a free man with almost all of my and my wife's assets."
"What are you talking about? Is she ill?"
"Sorry, I've said too much already."
Stan thought to himself, "I'm surprised I haven't heard from anyone about Leona shooting Jason. I have to remember to act shocked. I removed the app from her phone that allowed me to link our phones so a message from me looked like it came from her. Leona is too technology-challenged to figure out what happened, and the police should only be able to prove she killed her lover by mistake. I imagine the police will want to talk to me as soon as I get back. The girl I fucked will be able to give me an alibi."
I came down the stairs to the baggage claim with a smirk on my face. My smirk was removed when I saw my wife waiting. She looked horrible. Then she raised her hand. It had a gun in it. I barely had screamed, 'No' when shots rang out. I was shot in the shoulder. She had been shot by a security officer. I did not find out until I got to the hospital that she had died. Later I was told that she had killed her lover (What lover? I faked) too.
I lay in the hospital bed enjoying my newfound freedom without having to give half in a divorce. I went from the hospital to a hotel because my house was still a crime scene. I didn't mind the wait. Friends questioned why my wife had tried to kill me. I told them that she had evidently killed her lover by mistake and was so upset that she took it out on me. Most believed me.
Once I got home, I was still gloating. After a while, I went online to look at our joint bank accounts. I was shocked. Our accounts had been cleaned out. I went to bank to see where the money had gone.
"Your wife took the money out. We have no idea where she put the money."
Neither did I - ever.