The agent's eyes seemed to narrow as she told her story.  He actually had expected some kind of story or explanation as to what they would find when they exhumed that body, and he found her ignorance to what waited for them more compelling than if she'd given him something to poke holes into.  He watched her eyes carefully for any indication that she was lying to him, any disconnects between her verbal and nonverbal communication, nervous tics, facial cues that even an experienced liar would have difficulties hiding, but there were no signs of any deception, intentional or otherwise.  She firmly believed everything she was saying, and that was at least as interesting as what the physical evidence would ultimately determine.<br/><br/>"Alright," he said in a tone that seemed as though he was taking what she was seeing at face value.  "I'm not convinced your story is true in the slightest, but your commitment to it has me intrigued.  You might end up in an asylum and maybe that's where you belong, but you give me some details about your case that were never released to the public, and we'll move forward from there."<br/><br/>He leaned back in his chair, mirroring her stance and returning her glare.  Picking up the file in front of him and flipping through the pages, he checked for anything that would have been truly difficult for anyone else to know -- medical conditions discovered by the coroner or reported by the primary physician, details about the incident that wouldn't have been revealed.  Only two such pieces of information came up, and the first was a softball.<br/><br/>"You've got a birthmark and a tattoo.  Where and what are they?" he asked.