Chapter One

The loud knocking at his apartment door woke him up. He levered himself up off the couch. His back had kinks in it. He wondered how he’d been able to sleep so soundly on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture.

“Coming,” he yawned. What time was it? There was no clock here in the small living room. He looked towards the window. There was dim light filtering through the drapes, so it was either early morning or early evening…or just a very overcast day.

The knocking resumed. “I said coming, dammit,” he yelled. Whatever time or kind of day it was, he wanted coffee. He didn’t much care for urban living. It made you drink too much coffee. It would have to wait.

He peered through the peephole before even thinking about answering the door. One more strike against living in the city. He wished he was back out in the country, but his employers had called him here…so, here he was.

He recognized the smiling face. The broken nose was unmistakable, but it took him a moment to remember the name that went with it. Haines? Ah, no…Hines. Joe Hines. He unlocked the three locks on the door and opened it. Hines breezed in without waiting for an invitation. He was a wiry little guy who seemed to bounce along rather than walk.

“Hey, how ya doin’, Ron?” It was annoying that he had such a cheerful grin.

“You came here just to see how I am?” He stood closer, towering over the smaller man. Hines seemed unimpressed, but his grin went lopsided. He shook his head once.

“You even been outside once this week?” he asked. “You can’t just stay cooped up in here all the time.”

“There ain’t nothin’ out there I wanna see,” Ron grumbled. “You think I like bein’ cooped up, just waitin’ for instructions?”

“Y’see, that’s the problem, big guy,” Hines’ grin evened out. “Seems like you ain’t liked anything at all for a while. People have noticed.”

“I know that. Already had a talk with some guy from management.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t seem to do much good,” Hines observed. “Say, you got coffee here?” He looked around, spotted the small kitchen and bounded through the doorway into it. “I’ll make some, if you got it. You wanna cup?” he called back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Ron mumbled as he made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment as he tried to finish waking up. The face that looked back at him seemed unfamiliar at first. The dark brown eyes were bloodshot and bleary; the dark brown skin seemed to have a gray undertone. He needed a haircut. He badly needed a shave. He’d been letting himself go.

Hines always took his coffee black. He was disappointed to find out there was no cream, no half-and-half, not even milk in the refrigerator. He took it philosophically and added extra sugar to his own mug instead. They sat down in the living room. He let Hines take the couch and settled into the less-uncomfortable armchair. He waited for him to start the conversation, but Hines seemed interested only in his coffee.

“So…why are you here?”

“Me?” Hines looked up, feigning surprise. “Maybe I just stopped by to see how you were doing. Hey, I see you shaved.”

“Maybe you did,” Ron nodded. “But I doubt it. So, give me the bad news.”

“Why does it have to be bad news? It could be anything, my friend.”

Ron sighed and took a gulp of his coffee. It was too hot. He swallowed it anyway.

“Just tell me, would