DARK CITY a gripping detective mystery by CHRISTOPHER M. COLAVITO Page B

human experience. Detective Knox's admission was almost a confession that he wasn't quite human. Lane needed to say something, but knew it would have to wait for a more opportune time.
    “No, I would have remembered something that crazy.”
    “I lose track of these things.”
    “So what about the body? You said it was a dead end.”
    “Doc says there wasn't a shred of evidence to be found. No prints, no DNA, no nothing. He can't even tell what sort of knife was used.”
    “Sounds like I didn't miss anything by not joining you down there.”
    “Maybe not, but that's not an excuse. What were you doing?”
    “I was starting to look into the victim’s background, see if there was anything about him that might point to who would most want him dead.”
    Detective Knox didn't enjoy putting pressure on his partner, but saw it as a vital part of his job. Without someone pushing Lane he would never progress as a detective. It was only when his back was against the wall that he would push through his limits, and that kind of situation happened all too infrequently. Though he would come across as insensitive and boorish, Knox was doing what he thought was in Lane's best interest.
    “That's a good idea. Have you come up with anything?”
    “I'm not sure. I don't see anything suspicious in the financial records, but that doesn't mean money wasn't the motive. And there are some emails I can't get access to yet that we'll need to send to the tech guys. But from what I've seen, it's not going to be anything salacious.”
    “That's what I figured. We're not going to catch a break anytime soon.”
    “It doesn't seem like it. So what's our next move?”
    Knox wanted to admit the truth, that they didn't have a next move, that giving up and admitting defeat would be the most prudent move. Every hero has a nemesis who gets the better of them, and this case might be the one they were destined not to solve. It was not weakness or cowardice to admit failure; it was a necessary step in assessing their own abilities.
    Despite this, Knox was unwilling to bow to the forces of evil, because he knew all too well the soul-crushing feeling that resulted from a file being put in the pile of cold cases. Lane had yet to go through this rite of passage, and though Knox was certain it would happen one day, he was determined not to be the one leading the suicide charge.
    “We head back to the scene and see if we missed anything. Maybe something will look different in light of what we've garnered from the family.”
    “Good thinking. Besides, we could use a little fresh air.”
     
    * * *
     
    Sunlight gave the scene a new appearance, purifying it of the horror they felt the last time they set foot within the walls. The golden aura hanging above them shone down with a hopeful warmth, in stark contrast to the harsh lines and cold shadows they were used to. This time, they could see the scene not as a container storing the remnants of evil, but as a place a family might consider home. The sunlight filtered through the windows, cut into prisms, filling every inch of the building with life. This new light made the recollection of what had happened all the more tragic.
    Detective Lane peeled away from his partner, who was headed straight for the murder scene. Lane preferred to get a sense of the bigger picture, looking all around to soak up as much of the atmosphere as he could. Every picture revealed something about the people who lived there, and the few photographs strategically placed around the house gave small glimpses into a family the two of them had yet to understand.
    What Lane could see in those pictures was the lack of love between the people who called themselves family. In none of them could he read affection on their faces; their body language was stiff to the point where he could not tell if the picture had captured only a second in time. Everything he saw defied expectations, and brought to mind more questions. He felt as though he was