I told her about the discriminant function classification placing the foot bones closest to those of Native Americans.

'Now can you get a warrant?' I asked.

'Based on what?'

I ticked off points by raising fingers.

'An elderly Native American went missing in your county. I have a body part fitting that profile. This body part was recovered in proximity to a location frequented by your missing person.'

She cocked an eyebrow, then did her own ticking.

'A body part that might or might not be related to an aviation disaster. An old man who might or might not be dead. A property that might or might not be implicated in either situation.'

The hunch of an anthropologist who might or might not be the spawn of Satan. I didn't say it.

'Let's at least go to his camp and look around,' I pushed.

She thought a moment, then looked at her watch.

'That I can do.'

'Give me five minutes.' I gestured at Boyd.

She nodded.

'Come on, boy.'

The head came up and the eyebrows puckered.

A ping in my mind. The dead squirrel. My line of work makes me unusualy sensitive to the smel of putrefaction, yet I hadn't detected a trace. Boyd went balistic at ten yards.

'Could the dog ride along?' I asked. 'He's not cadaver-trained, but he's pretty good at sniffing out carrion.'

'He sits in back.'

I opened the door and whistled. Boyd bounded over and leaped in.

===OO=OOO=OO===

Eleven days had passed since the Air TransSouth crash. Al remains had been taken to the morgue, and the last of the wreckage was being hauled down the mountain. The recovery operation was winding down, and the change was evident.

The county road was now open, though a sheriff's deputy protected the entrance to the Forest Service road. The families and press were gone, and only a handful of vehicles occupied the overlook holding area.

Crowe cut the engine where the road ended, about a half mile beyond the cutoff to the crash site. A large granite outcropping lay to the right. Clipping a radio to her belt, she crossed the gravel track and walked the uphil side, carefuly studying the tree line.

I leashed Boyd and folowed, keeping him as close to me as I could. After a ful five minutes the sheriff cut left and disappeared up the embankment into the trees. I gave Boyd his head, and was dragged along in her wake.