CHAPTER EIGHT
When they lied, it made him angry. But there were other things that angered him as well. Many other things. And now, he scowled across the field, watching the man on the old, green tractor chug gamely along, circling once, reaching the end of his field, turning, and circling back.
Such a predictable pattern.
The man with the black gloves glanced over his shoulder, towards where he'd parked his own vehicle on the side of the dirt road. He hadn't tried to hide his car. He found this sort of behavior only attracted more attention.
Now, he stood on the tilled dirt, facing the old tractor and the farmer riding it.
Beneath the sunlight above, peeking through the dark, gray clouds, he felt warmth against his skin. A car zipped by behind him, and he waved cheerfully at it. The o
