Chapter 7
The rumble of the well-tuned diesel clued Beck in to Jordan’s arrival. He was early, but Beck wasn’t surprised. He was up before the sun himself, so he already had the box truck mostly loaded with the goods. He’d backed it right up to the processing barn, and used the dolly to move the packed crates onto the truck. When he emerged from stacking his most recent load, Jordan was standing off to the left.
“I like the label,” Jordan said by way of greeting. He gestured to the stacked one-pound bags.
Beck grinned. The new label was his own redesign, something he’d been tinkering with since high school. For years he’d doodled and tweaked it, changing colors and fonts. Every once in a while, he’d pull it out and work on it, even though he knew it would never be used—not as long as Ly
