I shoved a book under the leg of my desk; I swore the floor started to sag more every day. Six months had passed since I took that bullshit deal the D.A. offered so that I could keep doing what I was good at. He’d told me I could take an early retirement and leave quietly. The one thing a D.A. doesn’t want to deal with is having every case his office tried come under scrutiny. I never thought I’d see the day where I had an office with Ray Clancy, Private Investigator on the door in a building one foundation crack from being condemned. New West City wasn’t a booming metropolis, but it had all the cesspool dynamics of a big city.

It wasn’t like I’d ever be out of business but following around cheating spouses most of the time wasn’t my idea of a good time. To be honest, it barely paid my bills. If I wasn’t careful, my shitty office would become home sweet home.

I pushed a sigh through my compressed lips and reached for the bottle of antacids. After I twisted off the cap, I shook several onto my palm and popped them in my mouth. I chewed them and chased them with cold coffee. Whether it was my morning cup or the one from last night, I didn’t know and personally didn’t care.

Replacing the cap, I made sure it was tight and tossed it back on my desk. The contents rattled as the container rolled across my desk and onto the floor.

I rubbed the growing curve of my stomach. Luckily, it was still firm, but I was feeling and looking every one of my forty-five years. Hard living had taken its toll. It was there in the harsh angles of my face. The multiplying silver at my temples that stood out starkly against the dirty blond of my hair.

With a deep growl, I pushed up from my desk and grabbed my jacket on the way to the door. Analyzing my looks wasn’t something I did.

I jogged down the creaking steps and out onto the busy sidewalk. When I reached the curb I looked both ways, then ran across the street to the diner. Rudy’s was a staple of the neighborhood, frequented by criminals and cops alike. I opened the door and stepped into the rundown restaurant. The place was a mixture of decades. My gaze swept the room, I nodded my head at Finn Mac and a few of his enforcers glanced at me but went back to their meals. Mac ran the Irish Syndicate in the city. He had his fingers into just about everything except he didn’t deal in flesh or drugs.

I couldn’t fault Finn. Criminal or not, he always stood behind his word. I couldn’t say we were friendly, but we’d developed a civil acquaintance. I respected his skewed moral compass. I didn’t know what that said about me as a cop or a human.

I took an empty seat at the counter. Rudy poured me a coffee without being asked.

“How ya doing, Clancy?”

“Doing, man.”

Back in the day, Rudy had briefly walked the beat, but after his old man Rudy, Senior had a heart attack, he’d left to run the diner.

“You seen the paper?”

“Not yet, I was following some woman for her husband. I’m running out of room on a page for the men she visits.” I slipped two fingers through the handle of the mug and raised it to my mouth. A sigh slipped free at the strong, bitter brew.

Rudy pulled a paper from under the counter and laid it in front of me. I set my mug aside and picked up the newspaper, unfolding it to catch the headline.

Has a Serial Killer Made New West Their Home?

That got my attention and I scanned the article. Harry Simpson was a long-time crime reporter for the New West Gazette. The man had some shady contacts. I shook my head at the vague details, but what was there was too much like the past repeating itself. The killer went quiet when I’d gotten kicked off the force, but it seemed they were back to the grind.

It wasn’t my business. I no longer had a badge, but my fingers itched to get my hands on the official file. Every cop had that one case that went unsolved, and this looked to be mine.

“What’re your thoughts?”

“No longer my place.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You gotta have one helluva hard-on because,” Rudy tapped his finger on the black and white page, “no cop likes to have an unsolved.”

I folded the paper and handed it back. “Doesn’t matter whether I like it or not. I’m not a cop anymore.”

“Keep it, you can read it later. Once a cop, always a cop, you know that as well as I do.”

“Isn’t my business.” It was a lie and I knew Rudy picked up on it.

The killer was going after innocent kids. Kids, I snorted, when did I start thinking of twenty-somethings as kids? Just another clue that I was getting old. But my age didn’t matter, what mattered was I knew in my gut that the cops weren’t anywhere near figuring it out. Those pictures of the before and after, the files and reports still haunted me. Not just for the fact that I couldn’t finish it, but that this guy wasn’t going to stop.

He didn’t leave any evidence behind. Everyone left a trace of themselves wherever they went, but this guy was smart enough to cover his tracks. The only hope was he’d make a mistake.

“Want your usual?”

“Yeah, I got time for something to eat before my client’s wife gets off work.”

Rudy jotted down my order, and then turned to attach it to the spinning holder in the small order window. The older man wandered off to refill coffee mugs and wait on a couple who’d just walked in. As I let my mind wander, I lazily sipped my coffee.

I knew guys that loved this private investigator shit, but I wasn’t one of them. My pride stung that I was mostly following around cheating spouses. Sneaking around in the bushes taking pictures. I was caught between wanting my job back and being bitter over the way I was forced out. My attention kept straying to the article, and I set my mug down so quickly the black liquid sloshed a bit over the rim.

I picked the paper back up and quickly unfolded it. That time I read every word. Looked for clues between the lines, and the Brass was denying there was a serial killer. I still had my notes, and suddenly wanted to run back to my office to read over them.

Other than the type of victim, the only other link was Club Epiphany. The suspect had to be young. Someone in their late thirties or forties would stand out. I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket and dug out my notebook.

I wrote down some notes. It wouldn’t hurt to ask around. I hoped I still had a few friends left on the force. Another project to focus on would break up the monotony of my carbon copy cases.

“Not your business, huh, Clancy?”

I raised my head and shook it at the big man’s amusement.

“Fuck you.”

“How many times I gotta tell you, Clancy, you ain’t my type.”

Rumors ran rampant no matter how big or small the city, and it wasn’t a secret I was gay. I was surprised when it wasn’t a big deal.

“Good, because you ain’t pretty enough for me,” I said with a smirk.

Rudy snorted as he leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “So, talk it out.”

“The higher ups are continuing with their bullshit of this not being a serial. If these are related to my last case, this guy isn’t going to stop.”

“True. What else?”

That’s what frustrated me the most. Warnings made people more aware of who they encountered and remaining quiet kept the victim pool deep and clueless. They hadn’t even released names or photos of the victims, and it seemed they were going to keep up with the same bullshit this round.

“They should issue a warning. I mean, fuck, these young men have no clue who they might be taking home.”

“Why do you think he’s picking them up? Could just see them. Tail them for a while and strike when the opportunity opens.”

That was a plausible theory and at first, I’d agreed with it, but these kids were street smart. Survived by their gut instinct. “Hypothetically, if this is the same unsub as before. There’s no evidence of forced entry.”

“Man, what about entry points? Some people get too damn comfortable, leave windows unlocked. With enough skill any lock can be picked.”

All my theories had the what-if flaws. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this case. I knew it was going to come back to bite me on the ass.

“Yeah, but my experience tells me that this guy loves the game. Just striking when their defenses are down would be way too easy.”

A bell chiming ended our conversation and I put my stuff away, my usual of a burger and fries was placed in front of me. I doctored my food with hot sauce and tried not to think about the heartburn that was sure to come later.

“You’re getting old, Clancy. Should start taking better care of yourself.”

I grunted as I took my first bite and ignored him until he left.

I had an hour before I needed to be across the city to start tailing my current case, but my brain was occupied with the more interesting prospect of a New West serial killer. They hadn’t come up with a flashy name for him, yet. I knew it was only a matter of time before they branded him like some celebrity.

It might turn out to be a mistake, but I needed this. I wanted back in the action even if I was on the outskirts in a civilian compacity. I made mental reminders to call in a few favors. My fingers were crossed that I had a few allies in the department. I didn’t understand my compulsion, but as with every aspect of my life, I played it by instinct.