Jack Recider

But all the dominoes started falling one by one.

Each of the guys Alberto worked with were either arrested or turned themselves in.

Did Alberto feel guilty?

I don't know.

He probably couldn't believe his own luck.

He was in the DR with his family.

So he splurged on a Toyota pickup truck and used it to split his time between Santiago, where he was born, and the nearby city of San Francisco de Macronis, where his wife's family lived.

Alberto's plan was to lay low, kick back, relax, and enjoy the money.

But the paranoia ate at him.

The money was like a curse.

He had a lot of it now, cash, physically with him.

And other people knew that.

He was safe from the FBI, sure.

But his friends and family knew he was loaded.

and word was spreading.

So he bought a .45 Glock pistol and carried it around wherever he went.

The rumor goes that even when Alberto walked a short distance from his front door to his truck in the driveway, he wore it outside his clothes just in case anyone was watching.

Alberto was slowly unwinding into his new life.

He'd been in the DR for two weeks now and was staying at his wife's place, a single-story concrete house.

And he liked to play dominoes with his cousins.