“Hard curve too. Hell, it's a bell curve."

"Yeah, Dr. Hill was adamant that everyone in those courses understand that they were competing for the top spot."

Edgar's eyes sought out the "A" grades.

"Got four top-students. Tell me if any of these names ring a bell. Missy Cartman? Kurt Everman?

Monica Frederick? Daryl Mosley?"

"Wait," one teacher said.

"I remember that one. Hill mentioned him a time or two."

"Looks like he took every class for the last three years that Hill taught," another researcher said.

"He was the top score, or at least tied for it, every time."

Another investigator was typing hurriedly at a computer console.

“Let's see, he was double majoring in history and pre-med."

Edgar leaned back.

"Pre-med? Any history of magic use?"

"Uhm . . . yeah. Sorcerer."

“Magic and knowledge of drugs. Sounds like a very good candidate.

Where is he now?"

“His file doesn't say. He never graduated, never unenrolled nothing. The semester after Hill was fired, he just vanished."

“Let's see a picture of this guy," Edgar said. Someone hooked the projector up to a computer and sent a school photo up to the screen.

Edgar's eyes narrowed.

“Wait, I know that guy from somewhere."

Madison's cell phone was getting more of a workout than it had ever received before. First her father, then her sister had finally gotten a hold of her, then she had needed to talk with the station manager.

“Hello? Hey! No, I'm actually leaving in a few hours . . . no, it's okay, I can talk. Uhm, sure. Can't we just talk over the phone or ... no, no, that's okay. I'm freaked out too. Sure, I'll meet you. Yeah, I know where that is. Thirty minutes? Okay. Bye!" She turned off her phone.

“Hey Carla, I need to go run an errand before we go to the airport.

Is it okay if Anthony takes you?"