“Weird packing stuff,” he said, trying to sound bored, though his pulse jabbed him a little more. He forced himself to finish the job quickly and climbed back into his seat, shutting the door harder than necessary, as if that could block out the unease creeping in.
He tried the truck radio again, hoping for any sound other than rain. Static. Just the same low hiss that had followed him since he’d left the estate. “Moisture must’ve killed the signal,” he muttered. The dashboard clock blinked, then dimmed. He slapped it until it held steady.