Keller flipped through the stack, brushing through the pages and pages of unintelligible code until she found the search engine report. It contained every search made through the family’s internet service in the past three months. Searches about takeout food (“menu for Thai Garden”), the weather (“is it going to rain today”), education (“best MIT dorms”), leisure (“what’s on TV tonight”), health (“why can’t I sleep”), arts and crafts (“how to make slime”), and the other infinite queries of an ordinary American family.

In the Financial Crimes Section, where agents had to analyze mountains of data, she’d learned to separate the wheat from the chaff. For search engine reports, Keller’s go-to trick was to jump to what users had purposefully deleted from their search history. Typically, it was what you’d expect: lots and lots of pornography.

But the Pine deleted searches included no porn-related inquiries. Someone, however, had erased some troubling searches from the history:

Does life insurance pay if you kill yourself

How to make sure insurance pays if suicide

How many Zoloft needed to overdose

Effects of parent suicide on kids

The sound of Keller’s office phone interrupted her. She plucked the receiver from its cradle. “Keller,” she said, in her official voice.

“Judy and Ira Adler are here to see you,” the receptionist said.

“Who?” Keller clicked on her calendar to see if she’d forgotten an appointment. “I don’t see anyone on my schedule.”

“They say they’re here about the Pine investigation.”

Keller thought about this. Officially, there was no investigation. And certainly not one anyone would associate with Keller. She was effectively a babysitter, assigned because of Bureau politics and the strained connection to the Marconi case. While the receptionist waited with an annoyed breath through the receiver, Keller tapped “Judy Adler” into her computer’s search engine. A Wikipedia page appeared: “Judy Adler is an Emmy Award–winning filmmaker and producer. She rose to prominence with her documentary series ‘A Violent Nature,’ which she codirected with her husband, Ira.”

Keller released her own annoyed breath. “I’ll be right out.” She made her way down the hallway. Through the glass security doors she got a look at her visitors.

Judy Adler was probably in her late fifties. She wore black, and had dark hair with severe bangs. With her was a man of a similar age, who wore slightly tinted eyeglasses and had disorderly gray hair.

In the reception area, Judy approached with a confident stride, sticking out her hand.

“Special Agent Keller, thanks for meeting with us. I’m Judy Adler. This is my husband, Ira.”

Keller was tempted to say that she knew who they were, but just shook both their hands, nodded politely. “What can I do for you?”

“We hoped we could talk”—Judy looked around the empty reception area as if to confirm no one was listening—“about the Pine investigation.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”