It was dark inside the three bedroom house. Hardly a deterrent. He had lived there for over a decade.
He moved quickly, effortlessly while scanning every square inch of the place. He needed evidence, desperately. The ex-wife was taking him to court and demanding full custody of the kids, an edict he couldn’t live with.
But there was hope. She already had a significant other, a direct violation of their divorce agreement. Now, could he prove it?
He rested his hand against a surprisingly sticky marble counter. He looked down. The lifeless body on the floor stared back.
Now what?
The Weekday One Hundred 