Amanda’s POV
Once the pool was drained, and all the glass cleaned out (as well as a couple of small jewelry items and a baby’s pacifier of all things), the pool only needed refilling and apparently a new bucket of pool chemicals. Mark had me drive him to the hardware store on Sunday to get the needed chemicals, plus a couple of locks for some reason.
“I want to keep everything better locked up for security reasons,” he had told me, not going into great detail. Which is fine by me. I had heard enough obsessive griping yesterday to last me for a while.
Meanwhile, Mark had put the bucket of pool chemicals in the backseat on the floor. The smell was making me feel sick to my stomach.
“Why did you put that in the back seat instead of the trunk?” I ask him as we drive home, wondering if
