I stepped outside, not wanting to let Dad hear me yell at Crew through yet another futile message. As I stomped to the edge of the sidewalk for the illusion of privacy, however, I had an epiphany. Instead of Crew, I made a different call, internet searching the switchboard for the local FBI office directly and asking, with bated breath, to be connected to Special Agent Elizabeth Michaud. Because Fiona Fleming of Fleming Investigations had urgent business with her.

What ...