Page 121 of The Last Close Call

“Affirmative. I’ve got eyes on him now.”

The car was unlocked, evidently, and Anderson got in without the lights flashing on. A moment later, the taillights glowed.

“He’s backing out of the driveway,” Jack said. “Can you follow?”

Nothing.

“Bryan? You copy?”

“Copy that. I’ll take the lead.”

TWENTY-FIVE

First it was the truck stop on I-35, where he bought a lotto ticket and a sixteen-ounce Icee, according to Bryan.

Then it was the YMCA, where he made a loop through the parking lot but didn’t stop.

And now it was a dog park, where he’d spent the last twenty minutes sitting in his car in the dark in the parking lot near the public restroom.

Jack stared at the back of the Honda from the dark shadow beneath a giant oak tree down the block.

Static came over the radio.

“Still there?” Bryan asked.

“I don’t like this.”

“What about it?”

“The park, the neighborhood.”

“What the hell’s he doing there?” Bryan asked.

“Nothing. That’s my point.”

“Think he’s waiting for a dealer?”

Jack had been wondering the same thing. But they had no indication that Anderson was into drugs.

“Maybe a hooker?” Bryan suggested.

“I don’t know.”

Jack caught movement in his side mirror and turned around to look. Just a cat running across the street.

“I’m going to do a drive-by,” Bryan said.

Bryan was parked one block over, which was close enough to move into position to tail Anderson again, but not close enough to be noticed.

“Don’t let him see you,” Jack said.

“I won’t.”

Jack checked his watch. It was after eleven now. He checked his mirrors again, looking at the lawn where the cat had come from.

This location bothered him.

He didn’t like the park, the trees, the one-story houses. He didn’t like the utility easement two blocks away that he’d passed on his way here.

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