There are certain professions where you sincerely hope the old cliché about “truth being stranger than fiction” takes a nap. Dentistry, for example, typically ranks pretty low on both the Agatha Christie and Dateline continuums. After all, most of us think of a trip to the dentist as an exercise in anxiety management and possible floss-related guilt—not an episode of a true crime podcast waiting to happen.

Yet, as detailed in the opening week of testimony covered by Sky News, prosecuting attorneys allege that Colorado dentist James Craig sought a… well, particularly memorable way to deal with his marital and financial woes: slipping cyanide and a dash of eye drop solution into his wife’s protein shakes.

A Fatal Shake-Up

The trial unfolding in Centennial, Colorado, has all the elements of a modern American gothic—affairs, life insurance, and protein powder instead of arsenic-laced tea. According to NPR’s reporting, Angela Craig began experiencing a series of confounding health crises in March 2023, characterized by dizziness, fainting, and vomiting—classic symptoms of cyanide poisoning if you know what to look for, and apparently, her husband did. Prosecutors have argued, as documented by both NPR and Colorado Public Radio, that James Craig’s internet history included searches like “how to make a murder look like a heart attack” and “is arsenic detectable in an autopsy.”

Her symptoms repeatedly landed her in the hospital, and on her third visit she was declared brain dead. As described in NPR’s review of the court affidavit, her husband had allegedly purchased cyanide online, camouflaging it as a supply for dental work, and reminded his staff not to open his mail. This caution drew further attention when a member of his dental practice discovered a biohazard-labeled package containing potassium cyanide. The discovery and subsequent notification to Craig’s business partner set the investigative wheels in motion as relayed by both NPR and ABC News.

Motive and Marital Mayhem

The trial’s possible motives read like a bleak domestic checklist. Prosecutors have stated, as noted by Sky News and Colorado Public Radio, that James Craig was in the midst of an affair with another dentist while also facing financial struggles that may have made his wife’s life insurance payout especially appealing. The defense, as Sky News details, counters that Craig’s affairs were neither new nor secret, asserting he’d been “candid” about his infidelity over the years and that Angela was aware. During the trial, his attorney argued the evidence failed to demonstrate Craig administered the poison, raising instead the possibility that Angela had died by suicide.

Angela’s mental state has become both a matter of legal posturing and forensic importance. Hospital staff, according to Sky News, described Craig as caring and “doting” during Angela’s final days. Nevertheless, prosecutors have cited home surveillance video, reported by the Associated Press via Colorado Public Radio, in which Angela accused her husband of making it appear to medical staff that she was suicidal. In her own words: “It’s your fault they treated me like I was a suicide risk, like I did it to myself, and like nothing I said could be believed.” This recorded confrontation, which prosecutors are using in court, undermines the suggestion that she ended her own life—an argument emphasized in trial coverage by ABC News.

The Poisoner’s Toolkit

NPR and ABC News both point out that the substances found in Angela Craig’s system—cyanide and tetrahydrozoline, an ingredient in over-the-counter eye drops—are a particularly unlikely pair to land in a protein shake by accident. The prosecution alleges, as detailed by NPR, that Craig had a history of odd behavior and deceptive web searches, with one affidavit recounting that years earlier Craig had once drugged Angela to prevent her from stopping his planned suicide attempt.

After Angela’s death and James Craig’s arrest, his behavior behind bars seemed to drift even further away from conventional best practices (as much as such a term applies to murder defendants). Following his arrest in March 2023, prosecutors told Sky News and CPR that Craig attempted to orchestrate a cover-up from within jail: offering a fellow inmate $20,000 to kill the lead investigator, soliciting false testimony from others, and writing letters to bolster the idea that his wife planned to die by suicide. The reliability of these jailhouse informants has, according to the defense, been called into question in repeated courtroom arguments—CPR and ABC News both mention the term “jailhouse snitches” in describing the defense’s strategy.

Legal proceedings surrounding Craig’s defense added another surreal layer: ABC News reported that one of Craig’s attorneys withdrew from the case after being charged with arson of his own home, leaving his spouse and law partner to take over James Craig’s defense—proof that the attraction of improbable storylines in this case isn’t limited to the defendant himself.

Watching the Evidence Settle

Throughout the trial, both sides have traded accusations about investigative thoroughness and narrative fairness. The defense, according to Sky News and CPR, has accused police of bias, arguing investigators failed to search Angela Craig’s laptop or promptly review her personal journal. Prosecutors, however, point to the direct toxicology evidence, Craig’s browser history, and the deeply incriminating timing of his online purchases. NPR recounts that the visiting Texas dentist with whom Craig was involved told reporters she was unaware he was still married—she’d been told he was divorcing and living alone—a detail that, while tangential, gestures at Craig’s ability to separate parts of his complicated life.

So, does the evidence ultimately add up to the lethal intent prosecutors allege? Do the defense’s questions about suicide, investigative bias, and unreliable witnesses create enough uncertainty for a jury to hesitate? As the sources collectively document, the not-so-secret ingredient in this story is less about unusual toxins and more about the quietly volatile side of so-called normal lives—where sometimes, even a dentist’s office can become the center of a story you have to hear twice to believe.

What kind of person measures out a fatal dose of poison in a protein shake? In a case like this, maybe it’s the ordinary details, so confidently manipulated, that linger the most.