"Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you," the young man said. "I’m just a regular guy. My name’s Charles. That’s my car right over there." Charles pointed to a rust-spotted station-wagon with Idaho plates. "My wife’s in there—Monica—and our little kid Jimmy." He turned and waved. Monica, in the driver’s seat, waved back. She wore sunglasses and a head-kerchief. She looked very anxious.