“I asked. I wasn’t sure if I trusted my ears with all the insects buzzing in the woods around us. Gram and I sat in the rockers on her front porch, watching the last of the day’s light. Fireflies glowed on and off around bushes in front of the cabin. It would have been a postcard-perfect moment of peace. Except for what Gram had just told me. “Yes, sir,” she said, “a feller in a black car drove up the lane this very morning and said he was from the Johns Corporation and—” I put up my hands as if... trying to hold back a stampede. “B-black car?” “Roy, you seem particular hard of hearing today. Was it that you got banged in the head playing football? Tell me you’ve been wearing a helmet in practice.” She laughed at her joke. I did not. Black car. Johns Corporation. Where I had been yesterday. Where I had signed in and out with the security guard, leaving my name for anyone to read. It made sense. They knew what I was looking into. And in another way, it didn’t make any sense.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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