Steve Johnson, all elbows and knees with a perpetually curious glint in his eyes, was the undisputed leader of the “Westwood Explorers.”...

The old woman, Catherine, sat on her porch swing, the rhythmic creak a familiar counterpoint to the chirping of crickets in the twilight....

The biting November wind whipped at Jean’s cloak as he hurried through the narrow, cobbled streets of Lyon. Friday the 13th, it was. A...