Aslan Koch, Private Investigator, had yet again agreed to meet a strange man, at night, in a graveyard.

Not “for the first time ever”. Not even “for a surprising second time”! No. Yet again, Aslan Koch, Private Investigator, had agreed to meet a strange man, at night, in a graveyard. He had half a mind to skip to the chase and bring his own shovel just to save the damned trip home and back with another flimsy excuse to Nisa as to why he was meeting another strange man, late at night, Allah knew where, with a shovel.

Did he need to humor this request this way? Probably not. He could have even asked for a more reasonable place, or even a more reasonable hour – or better yet, both.

Fuck that. He brought a knife, a prayer, the suit he most preferred to be buried in, and an unhealthy amount of curiosity.

He arrived early to pick an optimal perch. Already knew where McDonald’s grave was – it was one of the giant crosses. Contemplated sitting on one of the slab monuments, but opted for camping out behind the giant cross instead. Drummed gloved fingers on the back of his right wrist, listening for the sound of steps …