Waking up in Elise’s apartment would probably be disorientating if I’d slept at all. I think I dozed for a few minutes here and there, but mostly, I found myself staring at her cream-colored ceilings trying to figure out what it entailed to change my name, face, everything.

It was clear the police didn’t care much about my safety and I was on my own. I should’ve paid more attention in gym class that week they taught self-defense. I guess I was going to have to figure it out. The pep talk gave me about two seconds of positive energy, then Francis’ face popped into my head, “Andy, is that my holey Superman shirt you’re wearing or yours?” I was hearing his voice in my head. I missed my best friend so much.

I waited until Elise left late in the morning to call that P.I. I found in the news article. I hoped so hard he either knew something that could help me or maybe he’d help me himself.

An odd thought hit me right before I pressed send, what if the P.I. is the serial killer? I mean anyone could be, right? My bus driver, Augustine, Gabin? Oh my god, I was going to drive myself crazy.

I was out of options, if he was the killer, then I was making a huge mistake. If he wasn’t, then I stood a fifty-fifty chance of surviving this.

Breathing deeply, I hit send and pressed the phone to my ear. One ring. Two rings. Maybe he’s not there?

“Ray Clancy, Private Investigator.” The sound of his voice both startled me and sent a shiver of lust through me. It was gravely like he was a smoker but sexy like silk. “Hello, anyone there? I don’t got time for this.”

Oh right, I need to speak.

“Hi… uhm, I mean hello my name is Andy I… well I got your number from an article, right?”

“Are you asking me?” Ray asked, a hint of annoyance laced his sarcastic tone.

“No. Sorry. I’m nervous.”

The sigh the investigator released was loud in my ear, and I began to feel complete dread. No one was going to help me in this shitty city.

“Look, I get whatever you have to say makes you nervous, but I don’t know if I can help if you don’t use your words.” There was a warmth there, but I could tell he was likely ninety percent asshole. I didn’t need a nice guy, I just needed one who would help me stay alive.

“I think someone is trying to kill me.” My words came out jumbled; I hoped he was able to understand what I said.

“I see.” There was a rustling on the other end, sounded like papers. “Your name is Andy. Do you have a last name?”

Ray didn’t seem at all shocked by my word vomit confession and maybe that was good. Or bad.

“Shay.”

“Andy Shay. Okay.” More rustling. “Shit, where the hell is my pen?” Now there was banging, cursing, and then silence.

“Mr. Clancy?” I asked wondering if we were disconnected.

“Yeah, here. Couldn’t find a pen. I’m good now. So, Andy Shay, why do you think someone is trying to kill you?”

“Well, he chased me and I sort of witnessed him killing someone. Hence the chasing. And so, I get the impression he or she isn’t someone who wanted to be seen, again, hence the chasing. I was able to call the police and hid at Don’s Café until they arrived. They have a car on me, but it’s not always there and…” Listening to all this out loud, I sounded like a loon.

“Wait. You witnessed a murder?” Again, the sound of papers filled my ears.

“Yes, my roommate.” I couldn’t say Francis’ name without bursting into tears, and I was sure this investigator thought I was insane already. No need to solidify that with uncontrollable tears.

“Holy hell. You’re the roommate.” He said it like it was a revelation. “The murder above the laundromat.” He wasn’t asking me. He heard about it. As seedy as this city was, Francis’ murder was brutal enough to have everyone talking.

“Mmhmm. Yeah. Look, I know you’re not a bodyguard or anything, but I was doing research after the news said this happened before. Anyway, your name came up and—”

“Yeah, few months back. I was on the force then. Look, would you be willing to come to my office, or if you feel better, we can meet somewhere public. We should talk.” The gravely assholishness seemed to have disappeared and genuine interest, and maybe tenderness, laced his tone. I didn’t think he was the killer, but I still wasn’t meeting him alone with no witnesses.

“I’d rather meet in public if that’s alright?”

“I get it. You know Rudy’s Diner?”

Everyone knew Rudy’s. Francis had lived for his Reubens. “I know it.”

“Can you meet me in about an hour?”

Looking at the clock I saw it was after the lunch rush, so it wouldn’t be overly crowded, but enough people would be there so if I was murdered there would be witnesses at least.

“Yeah, okay, one hour. I have to catch the bus; I won’t make it if I walk, and to be honest, walking anywhere right now isn’t safe for me.”

“I’ll head over there in a few. Is this your cell you’re calling on?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll text you my cell number. If you run into any problems, just text me where you are. Got it?”

Was it odd I liked that someone would come running if I was in trouble? “Sure, okay.”

“What do you look like?” Ray asked, and it was the type of question I hated. How does someone describe themselves?

“Uhh, tall I guess, lanky, dark hair… nothing special. Just look for the guy pissing himself, that’ll be me.”

His chuckle eased the tight coil in the pit of my stomach. “Will do.”

He hung up without a goodbye, and I hurried to the bathroom for a shower. Like every shower in existence, I crouched under the spray to wash off. A half-hour later, cleaned, brushed, and dressed, I hopped on the bus toward Rudy’s.

Where I would normally pop ear buds in and stare out the window, I found myself too paranoid to daydream. It felt like everyone was looking at me. Was the killer on this bus? Are we passing them on the street? Can he see me through the glass?

I saw Ray had texted me his cell number, and I hoped I wouldn’t need it because I was drowning in a pool of my own blood. God, I was dramatic.

I took a second to drop a message with Elise that I was meeting someone who may be able to help and that I’d message her when I was on my way back. She asked if I’d grabbed the spare key, and I was glad I had, because she said she was closing at the restaurant.

The bus stopped and I waited until I was the last person to exit. There was something about not wanting to be stabbed in the back.

Rudy’s was directly across from the bus stop. I took a deep breath and raced across the street. Opening the door, I searched out the place. It took me a second to figure out who Raymond Clancy was.

His eyes were staring into a coffee mug, and while I couldn’t see the color, I just knew they were dark. His hair was mostly gray, but under the fluorescent lights golden strands peeked through. He was a worn-out man, but there was no way I wouldn’t jump him if he offered.

When he looked up, those brown pools held a lot of emotion. He knew I was who he was waiting for, and I knew he was a man who had seen more shit than what I was running from.