Pete and I talked about Katy, about old friends, and about old times. He discussed some current litigation, and I described one of my recent cases, a student found hanging in his grandmother's barn nine months after his disappearance. I was pleased that we'd reached a comfort level at which normal conversation was possible. Time flew, and Larke and his complaint receded from my thoughts.

After a dessert of strawberries on vanila ice cream, we took coffee to the den and switched on the news. The Air TransSouth crash was the lead story.

A grim-faced woman stood at the overlook, the Great Smoky Mountains roling behind her, and talked of a meet in which thirty-four athletes would never compete. She reported that the cause of the crash was stil unclear, although a midair explosion was now almost certain. To date forty-seven victims had been identified, and the investigation was continuing around the clock.

'It's smart they're giving you time off,' Pete said.

I didn't answer.

'Or did they send you down here on a secret mission?'

I felt a tremor in my chest and kept my eyes on my Doc Martens.

Pete slid close and raised my chin with an index finger.

'Hey, babe, I'm only kidding. Are you O.K.?'

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

'You don't look too O.K.'

'I'm fine.'

'Do you want to tel me about it?'

I must have, for the words poured out. I told him about the days of gore, about the coyotes and my attempts to pinpoint the foot's origin, about the anonymous complaint and my dismissal. I left out nothing but Andrew Ryan. When I finaly wound down my feet were curled beneath me, and I was clutching a throw pilow to my chest. Pete was regarding me intently.

For a few moments neither of us spoke. The schoolhouse clock ticked loudly from the den wal, and I wondered idly who kept it wound.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

'Wel, this has been fun,' I said, unwinding my legs.

Pete took my hand, his eyes stil steady on my face.

'What are you going to do about it?'

'What can I do?' I said irritably, puling free. I was already embarrassed by my outpouring and dreaded what I knew was coming. Pete always gave the same advice when aggravated by others. 'Fuck em.

He surprised me.

'Your DMORT commander wil clear up the issue of entering the site. The foot is central to the rest. Was anyone around when you picked the thing up?'

'There was a cop nearby.' I focused on the pilow.

'Local?'

I shook my head.

'Did he see the coyotes?'

'Yes.'

'Do you know who he is?'

Oh yes.

I nodded.

'That should settle that. Have this cop contact Tyrel and describe the situation.' He leaned back. 'The trespass is going to be tougher.'