“Yeah, Rip Van Winkle? Well, don’t yet. I want to get that latex off you.” He dropped the plastic bag that held his suit. “We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. I want to be out of here by two.”
“All right.” I sat down and tugged off the wig, vigorously rubbing my scalp. “It’s going to be so good not to have to wear that again.”
He grunted and carefully peeled off the appliances. “I want you to take the sheets and towels to the Laundromat.”
“You told me. Isn’t it going to look suspicious to have them clean and folded?”
“Who said anything about folding them? Stuff ‘em into a pillowcase. We’ll put ‘em back on the bed, muss ‘em up, beat hell out of the pillows, and make sure the towels are damp, but there won’t be any DNA on them.”
“There isn’t any DNA on them now. We were very, very careful.”
