The night was quiet, hot, sticky—the kind of summer night that propelled the criminally minded out into the street to see what kind of trouble they could kick up. It was nearly eleven, but the Dudz and Sudz kept up a steady flow. I ducked the car into the alley and got out to peek around the corner; the smell of sour milk, rotten garbage, and small dead things wafted up my nose, turning my stomach. I stuck to the shadows, but this wasn’t a good vantage point. I could barely see the door from where I stood. I needed to get closer. I needed to find a spot that I could hunker down in for a while without anyone seeing me.

My eyes swept up and down the street. I checked the dingy alley. There was no good spot to burrow into to watch the door. Slowly my eyes drifted upward toward the rooftop, and my hands began to sweat. I’d nearly died on a rooftop. I’d taken a life on a rooftop. My police career ended on a rooftop. I squeezed my eyes shut, giving it a minute for the memories to settle. When I opened them again, I was fine, or at least fine-ish. I squared my shoulders, centered myself, and then jogged back to the car. I pulled a pair of binoculars and a camera out of the trunk before heading around back, looking for a way up. It’s fine, I told myself. The rooftop is fine. I ran it through my head like a mantra. It’s fine.

I rattled the lowest rung on the unsteady fire escape ladder, eyeing it dubiously, taking a moment to mentally confirm that my health insurance premiums were paid and up to date. The ladder didn’t look sturdy enough to hold the weight of a gerbil, let alone my 130 pounds, but the six-story building to which it was attached was directly across the street from the Dudz and Sudz. Therefore, it was the one I needed to make work. It would be a real shame, I thought, if I fell, broke my back, and had to lay in sour, dead garbage while being nibbled on by yellow-eyed rats. The thought sent a shiver through me, but I tucked the camera and binoculars inside my light jacket, jumped up to pull the ladder down, and started up. No guts, no glory.