in the back row instead of near the entrance.
That caught my attention.
Brandon liked being seen.
Halfway across the lot, the rear passenger door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Dark hair pulled back.
She adjusted her blouse collar, smoothed her skirt, checked herself in the window, then hurried toward the building’s side entrance.
A moment later, Brandon climbed out through the same door.
He straightened his tie, ran a hand through his hair, and turned toward the office.
Then he saw me.
I stood about twenty feet away with
