But it was fairly crowded with everybody crammed in there. Gibson had taken a seat in the patio chair nearest the balcony doors. He was quiet, subdued, and acting very much as if we hadn’t spent a good chunk of yesterday together. So either he had told them already or he hadn’t and didn’t want to. Either way was fine with me. The Feds were both alike and opposites. Their names were Erikson and Rizzoli. The former was very Nordic and handsome in the same way as the models in those Tommy Hilfiger ads. Rizzoli was about average height, built blocky, and as Italian as pasta, even more Italian looking than Bruno—something I wouldn’t have believed possible if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Both agents were dressed in identical conservative suits and carried themselves in a way that just screamed Fed. I don’t know what they do at the federal training center, but the men and women who make it through the program all wind up with a certain way of moving and dressing that is easy to spot once you’ve seen it.
