When I saw this picture, it made me think of loss of identity for some reason.
The story title isn’t the best, but it’ll do. Maybe Nick Rapelli should have kept his mouth shut. I guess the Witness Protection Plan isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Godmother Rochelle Wisoff-Fields puts out the hits on Friday Fictioneers, but still leaves me the cannoli (she’s allergic to sugar).
Dawn Landau gave us this great picture! Thanks, Dawn.
“Right. Get used to it.”
Nervously, Nick Rapelli trembled, repeating his new name. “Pete Thompson.”
“The car’s right outside, Mister Thompson.” The agent led Rapelli out the door.
Rapelli slid into the back of the sedan. “I can’t thank you boys enough. Where are we going, driver?”
The driver started the engine. “Rainbow City.”
A wave of fear hit Rapelli. “Rainbow City? They found Oscar Mazzarelli encased in cement there.”
“You win the prize, Rapelli. Too bad. You shouldn’t have fingered Tony Gardello and sent him to Leavenworth.”
The car returned from Rainbow City minus one nervous passenger.