They Demanded $20,000 At 1 A.M.—So I Told Them To Call Her

wearing jeans and a lumpy ponytail. She unlocked the door, deactivated the alarm, and led me to the main conference room—a glass-walled pod in the middle of the lobby. We were fish in a bowl, but nobody was around to watch.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “You look like hell, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Family,” I said. “And I need a document that’ll continue reading …