Madrid Iowa Orchard Owners Stand Against a Counterfeit Prophecy for Two Thousand Twenty Six

crunching on the gravel.

I watched the vehicle slow down near the entrance before it accelerated and disappeared around the corner.

“Was that Arthur’s car?” Evelyn asked, looking up from the folders.

“No,” I said. “Arthur drives the white Buick.”

“Then someone else is keeping track of where we go,” she said.

“Let them watch,” I said, placing continue reading …