Stake Out

He hadn’t planned a stake out. When had he ever? But usually he had coffee or water. Neither were present today.

Weather was good, though. Smoke was clearing, letting stray sunshine sneak in. No rain seemed likely.

Good. He hated rain on a stake out. Always ended up with steamy windows.

At least this car was decent for it, an accidental good choice. The Mazda CX-5 was his first SUV. The front seats were roomy and comfortable. Lots of space to relax, wait, and watch.

Not like most his cars. The Porsche was a joke on a stake out. The Mercedes and Audi were alright, the Bimmer a little tight. Still, it was better than the RX-7s — three of them– and the Camaro and Firebird. The last RX-7, though, the R1, was the worst. Pretty car but the interior was made for driving and not sitting and waiting.

Movement. He sat up, poised to move. Yes, there was his man.

Jumping out the car, he hurried forward and waved his hand. The tow truck driver slowed his vehicle. He pointed across the street the gray Ford Focus. “Over there.”

The tow truck diver nodded.

Ben walked to the Focus to wait. Funny, he’d never done a stake out in it.

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