Foot bones. Soldiers in Southeast Asia. Formulae for distinguishing Asian remains from those of American blacks and whites.

Could it work?

Had I taken the necessary measurements?

Grabbing one large and one extra large, I paid and raced for the parking lot, anxious to return to Magnolia to check my spiral notebook.

I was approaching my car when I heard an engine, glanced up, and saw a black Volvo moving in my direction. At first my mind didn't register danger, but the car kept coming. Fast. Too fast for a parking lot.

My mental computer. Velocity. Trajectory.

The car was speeding directly toward me!

Move!

I didn't know which way to throw myself. I guessed left and hit the ground. In seconds the Volvo flashed by, showering me with dirt and gravel. I felt a blast of wind, gears shifted close to my head, and the smel of exhaust filed my lungs.

The engine sounds receded.

I lay flat on the ground, listening to my pounding heart.

My mind connected. Look up!

When I turned my head the Volvo was rounding a corner. The sun was low and straight in my eyes, so I caught only a glimpse of the driver. He was hunched forward, and a cap hid most of his face.

I roled and pushed myself to a sitting position, brushed dirt from my clothes, and glanced around. I was alone in the lot.

Rising on shaky legs, I threw my purse and package into the backseat, slid behind the wheel, and hit the locks. Then I sat a moment massaging my throbbing shoulder.

What the hel had just happened?

Al the way to High Ridge House I replayed the scene. Was I becoming paranoid, or had someone tried to run me down? Was the driver drunk? Blind? Stupid?

Should I report the incident? To Crowe? To McMahon?

Had the silhouette seemed familiar? I'd automaticaly thought 'he,' but was it a man?

I decided to ask Ryan's opinion at dinner.

===OO=OOO=OO===

Back in Ruby's kitchen, I made tea and drank it slowly. By the time I'd climbed to Magnolia, my nerves had calmed and my hands were steady. I made a cal to the university in Charlotte, not realy expecting an answer. My assistant picked up on the first ring.

'What are you doing at the lab on Saturday?'

'Grading.'

'Right. I appreciate your dedication, Alex.'

'Grading exercises is part of my job. Where are you?'

'Bryson City.'

'I thought you were finished there. I mean, your job was finished. I mean…' She trailed off, unsure what to say.

Her embarrassment told me that news of my dismissal had reached the university.

'I'l explain when I get back.'

'You go, girl.' Lamely.

'Listen, can you grab the lab copy of my book?'

'Eighty-six or ninety-eight?'