He didn't wait for a reply. He pushed through the screen door, letting it slap twice against the frame. Outside, the air smelled of ozone, wet iron, and diesel. Miller popped the collar of his jacket and walked out into the deluge, leaving the old man alone with a pouch of dirty cash and a garage full of dead men's tools.
"We used to have roads that didn't have cameras every two miles," Miller snapped. He stood up, the chair legs scraping hard against the concrete floor. He went to the door and looked out at the dark, falling rain. "The world got small, Holloway. There ain't no more running room. You hold onto the square inch you're standing on, or you get pushed into the ditch. That's the only deal left on the board." [S2E6] Hold What You Got
"The boy didn't come back," Holloway said, his voice sounding like gravel being turned with a spade. He didn't look at Miller. He looked at the window, where the rain was just starting to turn the red clay outside into a slick, impassable soup. "Left his truck. Left his tools. Left the bay door unlocked." He didn't wait for a reply
"To the bank. To the state. To whoever's buying up the bottom half of this county this week. Does it matter?" Miller popped the collar of his jacket and