'I heard a crash buletin while driving from Charlotte to Knoxvile. When I phoned Earl Bliss, who's leader of the Region Four team, he asked me to divert over, see if you need anything.'

A bit more diplomatic than Earl's actual comments.

For a moment the woman did not reply. Then she turned back to the firefighters, spoke a few words, and the men dispersed. Closing the gap between us, she held out her hand. The grip could injure.

'Lucy Crowe.'

'Please cal me Tempe.'

She spread her feet, crossed her arms, and regarded me with the Coke-bottle eyes.

'I don't believe any of these poor souls wil be needing medical attention.'

'I'm a forensic anthropologist, not a medical doctor. You've searched for survivors?'

She nodded with a single upward jerk of her head, the type of gesture I'd seen in India. 'I thought something like this would be the ME's baby.'

'It's everybody's baby. Is the NTSB here yet?' I knew the National Transportation Safety Board never took long to arrive.

'They're coming. I've heard from every agency on the planet. NTSB, FBI, ATF, Red Cross, FAA, Forest Service, TVA, Department of the Interior. I wouldn't be surprised if the pope himself came riding over Wolf Knob there.'

'Interior and TVA?'

'The feds own most of this county; about eighty-five percent as national forest, five percent as reservation.' She extended a hand at shoulder level, moved it in a clockwise circle. 'We're on what's caled Big Laurel. Bryson City's off to the northwest, Great Smoky Mountains National Park's beyond that. The Cherokee Indian Reservation lies to the north, the Nantahala Game Land and National Forest to the south.'

I swalowed to relieve the pressure inside my ears.

'What's the elevation here?'

'We're at forty-two hundred feet.'

'I don't want to tel you how to do your job, Sheriff, but there are a few folks you might want to keep ou—'

'The insurance man and the snake-belied lawyer. Lucy Crowe may live on a mountain, but she's been off it once or twice.'

I didn't doubt that. I was also certain that no one gave lip to Lucy Crowe.

'Probably good to keep the press out, too.'

'Probably.'

'You're right about the ME, Sheriff. He'l be here. But the North Carolina emergency plan cals for DMORT involvement for a major.'

I heard a muffled boom, folowed by shouted orders. Crowe removed her hat and ran the back of her sleeve across her forehead.

'How many fires are stil burning?'

'Four. We're getting them out, but it's dicey. The mountain's mighty dry this time of year.' She tapped the hat against a thigh as muscular as her shoulders.

'I'm sure your crews are doing their best. They've secured the area and they're dealing with the fires. If there are no survivors, there's nothing else to be done.'