'You're right,' Jackson said. 'There's a healthy suspicion of authority and science in the rural areas up here. The witnesses refuse to submit to polygraphs on the grounds that the government could use the technology to alter their brains.'

'Give them upgrades?'

Jackson did smile briefly. Then the investigator in charge studied me again, and left without another word.

'Can we go back to the seating chart?' I asked.

Lowery entered a sequence of keystrokes and the diagram filed the screen.

'Can you superimpose the seat damage over that?'

Another few keys and the Seurat was in place.

'Where was Martha Simington seated?'

Lowery pointed to the first row in first class: '1A.'

Pale blue.

'And the Sri Lankan exchange student?'

'Anurudha Mahendran — 12F, just forward of the right wing.'

Dark blue.

'Where were Jean Bertrand and Rémi Petriceli?'

Lowery's finger moved to the last row on the left.

'Twenty-three A and B.'

Fiery red.

Ground zero.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Folowing the briefing, Ryan and I bought lunch at Hot Dog Heaven and watched tourists at the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad Depot as we ate. The weather had warmed, and at one-thirty in the afternoon the temperature was in the low eighties. The sun was bright, the wind barely a whisper. Indian summer in Cherokee country.

Ryan promised to ask about progress in victim identification, and I promised to dine with him that night. As he drove off I felt like a housewife whose children had just started ful-day school: a long afternoon of yawning until the troops reappeared.

Returning to High Ridge House, I took Boyd for another walk. Though the dog was delighted, the outing was realy for me. I was restless and edgy and needed physical exertion. Crowe hadn't caled, and I couldn't get into the courthouse until Monday. As I was barred from the morgue and persona non grata with my coleagues, further research into the foot was at a standstil.

I then tried reading but by three-thirty could take it no longer. Grabbing purse and keys, I set out, going somewhere.

I'd hardly left Bryson City when I passed a mile marker for Cherokee.

Daniel Wahnetah was Cherokee. Was he living on the reservation at the time of his disappearance? I couldn't remember.

In fifteen minutes I was there.

The Cherokee Nation once ruled 135,000 square miles of North America, including parts of what are now eight states. Unlike the Plains Indians, so popular with producers of Western movies, the Cherokee lived in log cabins, wore turbans, and adopted the European style of dress. With Sequoyah's alphabet, their language became producers of Western movies, the Cherokee lived in log cabins, wore turbans, and adopted the European style of dress. With Sequoyah's alphabet, their language became transcribable in the 1820s.