The spotting scope is beginning to hurt my eyes, and I set it on the seat while I grab a thermos of coffee from the floorboard. But I can’t let it set for long. Ana Maria’s broadcast is over for the night, and she’ll get into that crappy brown VW Bug and drive to meet me.
I’m certain she didn’t tell Anderson where we plan to meet. She’s convinced she blew it the last time, when Anderson butted in. She assured me she will not let the same thing happen tonight. If I could just reason with her, tell her those deaths back in the day were necessary. And that I’ve been sinless ever since. Maybe that will convince her to back off. We need some quality face-time, Ana Maria and me.
The knife in the sheath along my back rubs me, and I reach back to move it aside. I sharpened it tonight before I came out. But I doubt I’ll need it. Ana Maria will drop her series once I talk with her tonight. In my own special way.
Movement in the TV station parking lot, and I grab the spotting scope again. Ana Maria stands just outside the back door, looking around like I’m just sitting in the parking lot waiting to speak with her. But she knows better. She knows to meet me a mile through town at Frontier Park. For my own special rodeo.
I bring the scope away, and taillights a block down from the station flick for a heartbeat, then go dark. I put the scope to my eye once more and adjust the focus. There’s only one vintage Oldsmobile 4-4-2 in Cheyenne. Anderson is staking out her car. He’ll follow her to the park.
I hit the steering wheel. And hit it again. And again. Anderson is making it harder for me all the time to discourage Ana Maria. Now I’ll have to get serious. Now I’ll have to use more persuasion than I’d intended. But on the plus side, she’ll be frightened to death tonight. And that will frighten Anderson even more. I begin trembling with the ecstatic thought. What a bonus.