“Piss on you.” I give some prick backing out of his driveway the middle finger. This is a public street. I can sit here as long as I’m not blocking his drive. And if he thinks I’m looking at some babe with my spotting scope—I am. I lower it. Now’s not the time to throw caution to the wild wind just because I want to see Anderson’s reaction. And watching Ana Maria’s reaction to seeing the shoe print is a bonus. Still, it wouldn’t do for the police to get a call about a long-distance window peeper sitting on the street, and I drive away.
This is the second time I acted impulsively today. The first when I followed Anderson and Ana Maria to the Shady Rest and, on a whim, drove the cul-de-sac and turned around. I stopped next to Anderson’s rental car and grabbed my shoes from their box. Did I put that single shoe print by his car door to warn him? I thought I did. Until just now, when I saw how he nervously checked the area when he found it.
I hope he doesn’t take it as a warning.
For excitement’s sake, I hope he takes it as a challenge.
Come find me, Mr. Metro Cop.