I spent most of Saturday trying to follow up the one lead I had on the two missionaries. By the time I questioned the elf working the car-rental desk at SeaTac Airport, I was bagged and discouraged. She was young, maybe seventeen or so, and regarded me skeptically as I finished my story. Willowy and soft-looking, with long blonde hair, but with enough street smarts not to take my bogus story at face value—even if it was coming from a registered private detective.