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"I heard this scary story about you one time," Marty said, "and I didn't know whether it was true or not."
Pellam didn't look over. He was driving the Winne-bago Chieftain 43 back into town. They'd just found an old farmhouse a mile up the road and had offered the astonished owner thirteen hundred dollars to shoot two scenes on his front porch, provided he didn't mind if a combine replaced his rusting orange Nissan in the driveway for a couple of days. For that kind of money, the farmer said, he'd eat the car if that was what they wanted.
Pellam had told him that wouldn't be necessary.
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