I Found A Tracker Hidden Under My Car After My Son-In-Law Worked On It. I Didn’t Confront Him. I Let It Ride North — And Waited For The Call.

regular kind of middle-aged woman dropping her purse while juggling too many things. Tissues scattered, pens rolled, and my reading glasses case bounced twice before coming to rest under my car.

I bent down to retrieve everything, muttering words that would have gotten me detention duty when I was teaching. That’s when I saw it.

Attached to the underside continue reading …