“Did you ever consider a career as an investigator?” one of the ADAs asked me. As it happened, why yes, I had. As a third-grader in Knoxville, Tennessee (looking up to my grandfather, who’d been an assistant director in the FBI), becoming an agent had been my earnest when-I-grow-up plan. This was not how I had imagined it, but my time had come and I would rise to the occasion.
