When Archie stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor of his apartment building, he inhaled a lungful of lingering cigarette smoke and he knew that someone was waiting for him. He unsnapped his holster and walked down the hall toward his apartment door, alert for any movement. The building manager had hung glittery white paper skeletons on the walls. They were the size of children, with brass grommets at their joints that allowed their limbs to splay out at unnatural angles. There were four of them between the elevator and Archie’s apartment door, affixed to the walls with thumbtacks. They grinned at him as he walked past, with wide unblinking eyes. Skeletons didn’t have eyes. Soft tissue, bulging with maggots, they were one of the first things to rot on a corpse. But no one seemed to remember that at Halloween.

Archie’s apartment was at the end of the hall, near a corner that led to a fire exit, and Archie was almost to his door when he saw a shadow move on the floor. Then Leo stepped around the corner, the cigarette still in his hand, half burned down, a thread of smoke wafting from the orange tip.

Archie exhaled and put his key in the lock. “Did I keep you waiting long?” he asked.

“About twenty minutes,” Leo said. He had something in his hand and he tossed it to Archie. Archie just managed to snatch it from the air. He turned it over in his hand and looked at it. It was a flash drive.

“I didn’t want to just leave this in front of your door,” Leo said. He moved to step beside Archie and Archie instinctively turned slightly, so Leo couldn’t get behind him. Leo raised his palms. “No choke hold,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

Leo didn’t look any better than he had that morning. He clearly hadn’t spent the afternoon catching up on sleep. His white button-down shirt was fresh from the dry cleaner’s. His hair was molded to perfection. But he still looked like shit. His face was pallid and there was something leaden in his gaze. The rims of his eyes were the color of raw steak.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Leo asked, indicating the shoulder of Archie’s blazer.

Archie glanced down at the plum-colored lipstick smeared on the tan corduroy. “It’s not what you think,” he said, pushing his apartment door open. If Leo tried anything, Archie could always shoot him. He heard a scrambling from inside the apartment, and then Ginger appeared. She pranced eagerly at Archie’s feet and Archie felt the familiar swell of well-being that came with coming home, now that he had a dog to greet him. He reached down to pet Ginger with one hand, while turning the flash drive over in the other. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked Leo.