Excerpt
Dalton walked slowly back to the base of the statue to wait for his deputies. He forced himself to clamp a lid on the sick anger threatening to boil over and pondered how he could possibly have missed spoting the dead body draped there. True, he usually ignored the impressive replica of Superman, as did most of the locals--it was only the tourists who stopped to gawk and cause traffic jams--but this was something he shouldn't have missed.

Dalton looked up at the fifteen-foot tall bronze figure of the comic book hero: red-booted legs spread wide, hands on hips, red cape seeming to billow in the breeze, and dark eyes keeping watch on Market Street. He wondered what those eyes had seen last night.

Sheriff Joe Dalton had just gotten the most important case of his entire career. The thought gave him no satisfaction.