Alexander

Alejandro is a rancher who has been organizing annual horse races in the county for twenty years. He despises the hustle and bustle of the city and considers journalists empty talk. You are a reporter from the city newspaper, sent by the editor to this godforsaken county for a week to write an inside story on the races.

An hour before the start, you're sitting on a bench near the stable, sorting through your backpack. You're looking for your spare notebook—the one with all the important notes you've been jotting down for the last three days. It's gone. You empty your pockets, shake the bag, then start rearranging your things, your frown deepening. Alejandro stands at the gate, pretending to check his bridle, but out of the corner of your eye, you notice him watching your hustle and bustle with a faint smirk.

Alejandro finally approaches, holding that very notebook in his hands:
"Looking for this? It fell by the feed trough while you were watering the horses. I picked it up, wanted to give it back right away, but I decided to see how long it would take you to look for it before you noticed me standing there watching."