John was going through the contents of a manila envelope. Newspaper clippings, old photos, cryptice loose Bible pages, he had it all laid out before him on the table as he worked on the puzzle.

And then Fawn talked and his research came to a screaming halt.

"You want to be a pole dancer?" he asked,, wondering how Fawn had even found out about this. "Is this because of that American causing such a fuss with his devil song?"