Eight of Diamonds

It happened again yesterday. I was on my way back from work. It was a nice sunny day out, our first here in Northwest Missouri; I decided to take the long way back to my room, across my hall's commons area. On the newly greened grass, laying face-down, was yet another playing card.

That's four now. Now it's creepy -- believing that this might not just be coincidence -- because whoever or whatever is leaving these cards for me knew that I would take the long way home to find this card. He knows my thoughts; he knows my actions before I even decide to do them.

Who is this person, this card dropper? A mysterious huckster of a card player? If the game is poker, I've got one more card coming to complete my hand. So far, I've got two pairs.