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affect you. I can explain why I came into your store and why the troll was here, but we need to get out of this alley before something worse arrives.” He looked over his shoulder again, scanning the street.
    Ree snorted. “Are you some kind of ghetto Kenobi? Come to teach me the ways of the Force so I can become a Jedi like my father?”
    Eastwood flashed her a surprised look, then shook it off and pulled the lightsaber prop from his coat. “It’s what I had on hand.”
    “Either you’re drunk or I am. Wait here,” she said, not waiting for him to respond. But only one of us just came out of a bar, Ree, she told herself. Bah.
    Ree turned and opened the door again. Sandra and Darren weren’t in the stairwell, so she walked down the stairs to see them looking around the entranceway of the bar. Sandra looked up and said, “Oh! I thought you were still in the bathroom. Ready for pizza?”
    Not to sound like a broken record, but the hell ?
    “What are you talking about? We were just outside, it was kind of memorable?”
    Darren gave a wordless humph of bemusement. “That joke wasn’t that good, Ree. FOX is dumb for canceling Firefly, we get it.”
    You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought. “The troll, remember?”
    Two blank faces looked back up at her. They didn’t remember. Which meant Eastwood was either not totally crazy, or crazy but not entirely wrong. One way or another, it looked like the rabbit hole was inevitable. That or a padded room. Not a terribly appealing choice, really.
    “Sure thing.” Ree scaled the stairs two at a time and returned to the alley to see Eastwood using a cartoon mop to soak up the troll goop.
    Huh, she thought, her mind the model of erudition.
    “So?” he asked.
    “Not now. Gimme your cell number,” Ree said.
    He laughed. “Just meet me outside Café Xombi at midnight, and we’ll go from there.”
    “I have to work tomorrow. Gimme your cell and I’ll call. My life isn’t so crappy that I’m going to fall over myself asking for the blue pill, okay?”
    Eastwood smiled and produced a smartphone. He pressed one button, and a second later, her phone started ringing.
    Ree looked down, and the phone showed [Blocked]. She held it up to check with Eastwood that it was, in fact, him calling, but he’d pulled a Batman, vanished without a trace.
    Ree turned to the door of the bar but jumped back as it opened quickly, revealing Darren and Sandra with confused looks on their faces.
    And Fanboy somehow has my cell phone number. Great.
    Stalker has the lead over Kenobi, 4–1, but the pool is still open.

 
    Chapter Three
    As You Know, Bob
    Shaking off the insanity of the alley, Ree accompanied Sandra and Darren to Turbo’s so they could all enjoy a glorious communion with the gods of pizza as incarnated in the basil pesto, tomato, Italian sausage, mozzarella, and feta pie. When they were done, Ree kissed Sandra goodbye and wandered down the street. Ever since the time Ree had gotten frustrated and shouted the couple’s scores through the bedroom wall in a Russian accent, Ree had taken to lagging behind and giving the two some privacy. And this time, it was a convenient excuse.
    When they were gone, she called Eastwood. The phone rang three times.
    “Here’s what you do,” he said.
    Ree recoiled from the phone. “Hello to you, too.”
    “Go south on Wilco ten blocks from Main, then turn left three times and knock on the first door on the right.”
    “Give me an address. I’ll Google it.”
    He scoffed. “No go, girlie. That’d do you less good than telling it to give you a walking route from Hokkaido to Beijing.”
    Sighing, Ree said, “Whatever. Text me the directions.”
    “If you really want the scoop, Ms. Digital Native, you’ll remember the frelling directions.”
    “Are you always this much of an ass?” Ree asked.
    “This is my nice side, mei-mei .”
    “I’m not your sister.”
    “Just follow the directions.”
    And then he hung up. Ree stared at her