But she wasn’t worried about cops paying her any mind as she cruised around in her white Miata at this strange hour. Part of being Unique was not looking like what she was. Part of being Unique was not looking at all like what she did. She was so certain of her invincibility that she pulled off at Fred’s Mini Mart, where a police car was parked.
Unique could spot an unmarked car from a block away, and she slipped inside the store as she eyed the handsome young blond man who was paying for a quart of milk at the counter. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, and she searched for any sign of a gun and detected a bulge at the small of his back.
“Thanks, Fred,” the blond plainclothes cop said to the man at the cash register.
“You bet, Andy. I’ve missed seeing you. This whole last year, it’s like you dropped off the damn planet.”
“Well, I’m back,” Andy said, pocketing his change. “You be careful. There’s a really bad gang out there. We just had another truck driver hit.”
“Yeah, no shit! Heard it on the radio. How bad did they mess him up? I guess you worked the scene.”
“Nope. Off duty. I heard about it the same way you did,” Andy replied with a trace of disappointment.
“Well, me–I agree with what the newspaper’s saying about it being a hate crime thing,” Fred said. “From what I hear, the leader’s a white dude and all the victims so far are black, except for that female trucker a couple months back. But then, I think she was a minority, too, if you know what I’m saying. Not that I’m a big fan of dykes, but that was pretty horrible. Seems like I read somewhere she had a stick shoved up her and was cut… Oh!” Fred exclaimed, startled, as Unique appeared out of nowhere and set a six-pack of Michelob on the counter. “You slipped in so quiet, sugar, I didn’t know there was nobody else in the store!”
Unique smiled sweetly. “I’d like a pack of Marlboros, please,” she said in a small, soft voice.
She was very pretty and dressed neatly all in black, but her boots were scuffed and they sure were dirty, and she looked as if she had been caught in the rain. Andy noticed a white Miata in the parking lot when he got back in his unmarked Caprice, and he had scarcely driven off when the delicately lovely girl with the strange eyes climbed into the Miata. She followed him through downtown, all the way to the Fan District, and just as he slowed down to see if he could make out her license plate, she turned off on Strawberry Street. Andy had an odd feeling that he couldn’t place, and as he returned to his small row house and fixed a bowl of cereal, he had the eerie sensation that he was being watched.
Unique knew how to stalk anybody, including a cop, and she stood across the street in the deep shadows of trees and watched Andy’s shadow move from room to room eating something out of a bowl. Several times he parted the curtains and looked out at the vacant, still street. She cast her gaze in his direction and imagined the power she was having over his mind. He was feeling uneasy and sensed Something, she believed, because Unique had been around for a very long time and could trace her most recent possession back to Dachau, Germany, where she had been taken over by a male Nazi. Long before that–she had divined from tarot cards–she had been The Adversary and had eyes all over her body.
Andy parted the curtains again and by now was unsettled enough to carry his pistol everywhere he went inside his house. Maybe he was out of sorts because it really bothered him when a bad case went down, like
Moses Custer, and Andy wasn’t part of the investigation. It depressed and frustrated him to hear on the news that the trucker was kicked, stomped and beaten, and left for dead, and Andy hadn’t been anywhere around to see things for himself and make a difference. Or maybe he was in a dark mood simply because he had been up all night and was excited and scared about what lay ahead.