Cookie Cutter Man by Elias Anderson Page B

half a block up and across the street from the
building that Bailey was supposed to be living in. Daniel opened the case on the
seat next to him and got out the mini telescope. All day Monday he sat and
watched, and he didn’t see anything. All day Tuesday and Wednesday he sat and
watched, and didn’t see the man he was looking for. Ebin showed that afternoon
to smoke out and take the next watch, mentioning they’d received a report of
Lawrence Wills being spotted the night before in both D.C. and Chicago.
    “But he’s dead,” Daniel said. The only response Ebin had for
him was a shrug.
    Daniel drove home in a gray mood, drained from sitting in
the truck all day. His lower back was a tight ball of heated wire. What if
Bailey had moved, or was transferred or something? Daniel wanted to be the one
to bring him in. He harbored a small but potent amount of hate for the man. He
thought of that slack-skinned sheep rummaging through his apartment, putting
bugs in the smoke detector and a converter on his TV, running his hands over
his things, Echo’s things. It made his skin crawl and at the end of each day he
thought he was a little closer to being sure he could pull the trigger if the
situation arose.
    Bad Religion thundered over the stereo as he drove, eager to
be done for the day and relaxing on his couch, as much as he could relax these
days, anyway.
    “Hi baby,” Echo called from the kitchen when he came in. He
greeted her with a hug and a kiss and put his case up in the closet. He got his
tray out and sat on the couch, rolling a joint. Echo sat down next to him, put
one hand on his leg and leaned her head on his shoulder.
    “How was your day?” he asked her.
    “It was OK. I talked to Teresa.”
    “Oh yeah?” Daniel licked the joint and roasted it a little
before lighting up.
    “Yeah, she just got a waitress job downtown at Phatty’s.”
    “What happened to that other place? Dante’s whatever?”
Daniel took a healthy puff and put the joint in Echo’s mouth.
    “Dante’s Shilling? Yeah, she made good money but she said
the owners freaked her a bit. She thinks they’re a crime family or something, I
don’t know.”
    “Crime family? Have you been down there?”
    “No, I hear it’s quite the place though. T told me loads of famous people are in all the time. She saw Shelley Long in there once.”
    “Shelley— the actress, right? From Bird on a Wire ?”
Daniel asked.
    “No, that was Goldie Hawn. Shelley Long was in uh, Troop
Beverly Hills and Hello Again . And Cheers .” Echo took a hit.
    “Who else?” Daniel asked, breathing out a cloud of smoke.
    “What?” Echo asked, laughing.
    “Who else has been in there? Famous people?”
    “Oh. Uh ... I ... forget. Jesus, this weed is killer. Oh,
she said Dave Chappelle was in there, once. And Edward Norton.”
    “Wait, Ed Norton was in there and you lead with
Shelley Long?” Daniel asked. They both laughed and Daniel had a moment of panic
when his vision seemed to double and it was like he was looking through two
sets of eyes. He closed them, opened them, and they were clear.
    “Anyway, I told her we’d come in tonight for dinner. Wanna?”
Echo looked up at him and smiled her smile. It was a deadly weapon, long range
with a brutal accuracy. She didn’t use it often, more out of compassion for him
than anything else. It was a smile that was perfect and pure and maybe a little
greedy. It said, I love you and I don’t really ask for much but this means a
lot to me , and there was no way he could deny it.
    They finished the joint and an hour later they were parked
in a garage. They walked the four blocks to Phatty’s Bar and Grill, enjoying
the night.
    They reached the pub. Daniel relaxed easily in the backyard
barbecue aura about the place; it reminded him of Denver keg parties and his
old friends.
    The hostess was dressed like the St. Paulie’s girl and gave
Daniel a hungry look as they entered, then Teresa spotted them and led them to
an empty