“Wait, there’s more. When I couldn’t find the grave registries I began to ask myself, ‘Where else might the location of a graveyard be mentioned?’”

“And did your self come up with anything?”

“Yes—oral histories.”

“Oral histories?”

“They started collecting them back in the thirties—personal recollections and reminiscences. You know, ‘My mother told me that my grandfather once said . . .’ UVA has some terrific collections, along with a lot of diaries and memoirs and random information like that.”

“How does that help us?”

“Formal histories tend to be written around grand themes, like politics and economics and so on. These collections are more slice-of-life stuff—simple descriptions of what people did on a day-to-day basis. They’re fascinating—by far the best way to get a feel for what life was really like back then.”

“I believe we were talking about graveyards.”

“Well, think about it: People are born, they live, and they die—and when they die they’re buried, and then there are funerals and graveside vigils. I figured somebody might mention a death in the family—and where they were buried.”

“That’s good. So what did you find?”

“There was a ton of stuff. I had to wade through volumes and volumes of—”

“Thirty bucks—that was my final offer.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Now where did I put that excellent information?”

“Blackmail doesn’t become you,” Nick said. “C’mon, Carlyn, a deal’s a deal.”

“Well, it was worth a try. I found two mentions of graveyards in the area around Endor. Here’s the first one: ‘In the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and ninety, the soul of our beloved son Jacob Mallory was laid to rest in the old cemetery, by the great oak overlooking the dog’s leg.’”

“The dog’s leg,” Nick said. “It sounds like some kind of landmark.”

“Listen to the second one: ‘Dear Sara, God rest her soul, now watches the sunrise over the waters of the dog’s leg.’ I think it’s a lake, Nick—a lake shaped like a dog’s leg. You know, a dogleg—like on a golf course.”

“Was there anything else?”

“That’s it. Sorry there’s nothing more specific—there must be all kinds of lakes in the mountains around Endor.”

“Yes, but names tend to stick around here. If they used to call it ‘the dog’s leg,’ they probably still do. I’ll ask around. Thanks—that was good work.”

“And speaking of money.”

“Oh, yeah—now where did I put that excellent check?”

“Nick—you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Stiff a blackmailer? What kind of person would do that?”

“Nick, I was kidding.”

“A professor benefiting from a grad student’s work without reward? Unheard-of.”

“Nick.”

“Don’t worry, Carlyn, you’ll get paid—but I’m not done with you yet. There’s something else I need you to find.”

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