I was starting to settle into my new cover identity, becoming more sociable. Sometimes I’d go to one of the local dance clubs, just to find people to talk to. I met a girl I dated a few times, but I didn’t think it would be fair to her for us to get more involved: if I got picked up by the Feds, anyone I was close to could be put in a very uncomfortable situation, either being leaned on to give evidence against me or maybe even becoming a suspect herself. And, too, there was always a chance that I’d say something to give myself away, or she might spot some documents identifying me by some other name, or overhear a phone call. Pillow talk can have its dangers. From comments by fellow prisoners while I was in custody, I had learned that most had been ratted out by their significant others. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake.