Miami 11:46  PM
      The roar of a sports car engine interrupted the quiet of a South Miami neighborhood in the middle of a balmy summer night. Car lights came on, piercing the darkness and illuminating the house and the closed garage door.
      Marta Rumanini, trembling in the driver's seat, gripped the steering wheel tight enough to strangle a snake. Any casual observer would probably assume that she was just a white knuckle driver.
      Her breath came in pants, as she backed the little car out of her driveway, barely missing their mailbox. After grinding the gears, shifting from reverse to first, she screeched tires as she drove the little car down the street and away from danger.
      Marta had just shot her drunken, abusive husband and wasn't sure he was dead.

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