Chapter 11

“Finally! I’m starving.”

* * * *

“This is where I’m going to be living?” Carlo asked late the next afternoon, looking at the driver’s license. The Marshals Service had couriered over all the IDs he’d need, the license, a Social Security Card, and a major credit card with a seven-hundred-dollar limit.

“Yep,” Walter replied. “It’s halfway across the country for starters, and a large enough city you won’t stand out.”

“Won’t people wonder why I suddenly popped up there?”

“In an apartment building? Not really. Would you question someone new?”

“Good point, I guess. How’d I get a license so fast?”

“You’re a conscientious citizen.”

Carlo snorted. “Since when?”

“Since you decided to help convict Grimaldi’s men.”

“Oh. Yeah. Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“So when do I go out there?”

“Wego out in the next couple of days.”

“But not together.”