Dodson raised an eyebrow as she started talking, eyes darting down and flipping through the pages of the file, trying to confirm the information as quickly as she was divulging it.  He confirmed what he could, indicating that she had been correct on all accounts, and closing the file with a small exhale.  It seemed that at the very least she was no two-bit impersonator.  And she had a point:  there was no motive for claiming to be Myra Sanders.  She had inherited no wealth from her parent's death, nor sought it from seemingly springing back to life.  It didn't mean she wasn't suspect, or crazy for that matter, but something tugged at him.  Even if this did end up with a trip to the psych ward, he was intrigued by what may happen in the interval, and made a decision.<br/><br/>"Alright.  Fair points," he conceded.  "Also I find your disdain for local law enforcement refreshing.  So, for the time being, let's agree that you are Myra Sanders."  He pushed down from the desk, lifting himself off the chair and taking the cane in his hand.  "You're right.  They haven't found anything.  You were written off as a hit-and-run within a month of the start of the investigation.  They canvassed the area, looking for witnesses, asking people to come forwards, and no one ever did."  He shrugged.  "Where that leaves you at this moment is beyond me, but my guess is that it's worthwhile to visit the spot where it happened again.  See if anyone's willing to talk once they've seen the ghost of the girl that was killed.  Unless you have a better idea."<br/><br/>He scooped up the file, moving towards the door, his limp somewhat more pronounced after being knocked to the floor.  "If you want to learn more, follow my lead."<br/><br/>He opened the door and beckoned for her to follow, a few of the officers were outside, looking sheepish as the agent exited the room.  "Sorry about Frazier, sir," one of the officers from earlier apologized.<br/><br/>"Eh, don't worry about it.  Listen, this girl has been here for six hours.  You guys planning to charge her with anything other than being alive?"<br/><br/>"Uhh--..." the officer hesitated.<br/><br/>"Because you really can't hold her beyond the next five.... four.... three.... two... aaaaaand, now."  He turned to face Myra.  "What do you think, ma'am?  Are you going to stay here a bit longer?  Or do you need a ride?"