Once I parked my pickup truck in the driveway and looked in the rearview mirror, I saw someone stepping out of the black limousine.
It was Doyle Johnson himself, with his burned face and the calmest, coldest look possible.
'What is he doing here?' I thought.
I got out of my pickup truck and shut the door, glancing over at Doyle Johnson as he leaned against the limousine.
"Are you stalking me? How did you know where I live?"
He looked at me menacingly. "We have access to a lot of information."
"So you're admitting to stalking me. Why did you come here?"
Doyle's gaze remained serious. "Jack... you are a very bright man..." he spoke slowly. "You figured everything out so quickly..." His tone was almost condescending.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
