On those hot, lazy days, it was often his pleasure to check a car out of the motor pool and park it. But there was an art to it; it always had to be one of the dark-colored Dodges that had come in on a government contract, with their aggressive lines and frowny grilles.

The same kind of car an undercover cop would drive, naturally.

Park it somewhere conspicuous and then relax in the summer’s sticky heat, reveling in the unspoken power that brought. People would slow down, fly straight. Ten o’clock and two o’clock. And then as soon as they were past, there went the lead foot.

He didn’t have the stamina to be a cop, but he sure had the mindset.

But in any case, it meant he was in the right place at the right time, in the afternoon near the airport, to see the object.

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