Keith Morrison

Pull up your Facebook page, she said.

Nancy had a hunch.

If all those kids were together in the same lake house, the odds were good that Chris Latham was there, too.

A quick Google search turned up a list of rental properties on Lake Jocassee, a sprawling 7,000-acre lake near the North Carolina line.

and only one rental claimed it could sleep 14 people.

With address in hand, Nancy called the agents back.

The agents were 150 miles from that big house on Lake Jocassee.

By the time the agents got to the lake, teams of local law enforcement had been assembled at a nearby staging area.

Hoping to preserve the element of surprise, the agents Boykin and Callahan crept up on the house, sometimes crawling through the woods and underbrush to get a closer look.

Hanging out on the porch, the agents could see a half-dozen teens standing around drinking beer.

Out on the drive, they spotted Chris's big Ford Excursion.

The house was built on the side of a hill that sloped down to the lake.

Upscale rustic, you could call it.

When the agents entered, they found themselves on the second floor of a large indoor space.

As Agent Boykin looked over the railing down to the lodge-like living room below, he saw Chris Latham in shorts and a t-shirt standing before a stone fireplace.

It was at that moment, said Boykin, that the clouds opened up.

Rain pounded on the roof as Chris Latham changed into a light blue long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans because he was going on a long ride back to Charleston.

It was slow going in the driving rain.

The windshield wipers working at full speed.

At one point, Chris indicated he needed to make a rest stop and asked the agents to get a carton of chocolate milk.