Carl Wilson
My phone rings. It's Grandma.
"Carl," she says, sounding rushed. "Can you get out of town without being followed?"
"You know I can."
"Good. Three o'clock at the Hurley's off the interstate."
I check the time. It's after noon, and a good two-hour drive. "I'll be there," I say.
"You catch any sign you're being followed, make a big loop back home instead. If I don't see you at three, I'll assume that's what happened."
I don't waste any time getting on the road, because I'm not planning on taking a very direct route. I keep an eye on my mirrors as I make sudden turns off the highway onto long, empty roads, and once even make a U-turn. Anybody trailing me would need to be really good to keep on my tail without me noticing them back there. I still manage to pull into t
