A light, early morning fog still lingered above fresh, spring lawns as Detective Vereen steered his car through the maze of suburb streets. His GPS pointed him toward 117th place, where an old lady by the name of Ms. Kermett had been found dead by her daughter just an hour earlier. Already, Vereen could see the high powered antennas peeking above the tops of the houses, and he swore quietly under his breath. He didn’t really need to turn off his GPS, but it seemed an appropriately bitter thing to do, and he followed the antennas to the news vans that had already crowded around the small, one story house.