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.

exist, barely—and purchased a small magnetic case, industrial adhesive, and a prepaid cell phone. Then I drove to the truck stop on Highway 84, where long-haul truckers grabbed coffee and diesel before heading out on cross-country routes.

The plan was simple. I’d attach David’s tracker to a truck heading somewhere far away and see what happened when continue reading …