Speaking the Truth
Jack knew running was pointless. His only chance was honesty. He steadied his breath and locked eyes with the man. “I’m looking for whoever placed a tracker on my car,” he admitted. “And I think you know who it was.” The man’s face didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—recognition. It was slight, almost hidden, but Jack caught it instantly. His gut clenched. He had struck a nerve, and he knew it.
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