The sniper slaying of a LAPD narcotics detective is the work of any one of four middle-class suburbanites about to depart on a hunting trip after Vegas beaver and mountain deer. Could it be Wes Tarnak, an architectural draftsman who can't cut it with his wife since he began wearing her panties; Leo Fritz, an ad agency bigwig who's ulcer-ridden because he's actually a "creative parasite".