As Dave was en route to his home in Trenton late that evening, his wife Cindy had called to tell him that several vehicles were parked in front of their house, including two news vans, and men in jackets marked "FBI" were waiting for him. This came as no surprise at all. They would want to know why he failed to alert the proper authorities when he found out his employee had gone missing abroad. There was no way he could've prevented everyone at the magazine and all of Michelle's family members from calling a public official, so he didn't even try. He was just glad his associates had enough time to make use of their network and do some effective sleuthing before governments and media outlets encouraged every criminal in Syria to go into hiding.
"David Pike?" said a man approaching him when he arrived. He was accompanied by two others. "We'd like to ask you a few questions. Could we step inside with you, please?" He agreed and went into the house, thankful that his kids were in bed and wouldn't see this. Cindy met him at the door.
"Finally," she said, clutching him tight. She whispered in his ear, "I knew you shoulda called someone."
"I did call someone," he said, not looking her in the eye. "Have a seat, guys," he said to the three men. He was determined to not give them any respect as authority figures, as he didn't consider them to have any real authority over him. "Should I make coffee?"
"Why don't we get right down to it," said their leader, a tall blond in his forties, as he sat in a chair. "We know you found out your employee, Michelle Owens, went missing a full day before any kind of public official was notified. Wanna tell us why you didn't bother to call the police or the FBI or anyone?"
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