The B Girls - By Cari Cole Page 0,43

lessons. We have to get everything we need tomorrow so we can finish this by the Thursday deadline," Lucy said.

"I think we can buy equipment that's foolproof enough to get us through," Jane said. "They make some amazing shit nowadays."

"Good. First thing in the morning you and Mae can go shopping."

"Where will you be?" Jane asked.

"I'm going to UGA to see Professor Dawson. I think we need to know a little more about Perry Thiel."

"We need to study this map now that we have it," Jane said.

"And we will. Tomorrow afternoon when we have our supplies and more information," Lucy said. She wanted to put off thinking about the cave as long as possible.

Flashback

Driving through the UGA campus to the building housing Dr. James Dawson's office was like entering a time warp.

This was her native habitat. The place she'd been formed. Not this specific campus but a series of college campuses where her parents had been employed.

They'd assumed she'd follow them into academia. Maybe biology instead of English or sociology instead of history but without doubt she'd find a home in the world of ideas and theories. A world where it was easy to loose sight of the concerns of people who produced things instead of ideas.

Lucy sighed. She'd married a car salesman instead and left the insulated world of intellectual snobbery behind.

Her parents had never forgiven her.

Lucy wasn't sure she'd forgiven herself.

At twenty she'd been sure she was on her way to making the next big discovery in archaeology. Not in Egypt or even South America but right here in the good old USA. Somewhere out west, New Mexico or maybe Arizona.

At twenty-one she'd put on her cap and gown to accept her BA in history.

A week later she'd put on her wedding gown and promised to love Gary until death did them part.

Well, they were parted and neither of them was dead.

Now she was going to have to decide whether she wanted to hide out in academia or find a way to make a living in the real world.

Franklin Hall was apparently one of the few places on campus where parking was only nearly impossible rather than completely impossible and Lucy lucked up on a space in her second pass through the lot. She parked Belle's BMW and headed for the building.

Except for the threads of gray sprinkled in her unruly red hair, the frown lines on her forehead, and the glasses perched in her hair to help her aging eyes, Lucy would have been indistinguishable from the students moving from building to building. She'd never perfected the art of dressing like a respectable suburban mom. Maybe because she'd never actually felt like a respectable suburban mom. She was dressed in her usual jeans and whatever shirt had the least wrinkles--today that was a faded red polo shirt.

The smell of books and overworked brains smacked her in the face as soon as she stepped into Franklin Hall. The smell of the first half of her life.

Professor Dawson's office was on the second floor. His graduate assistant had promised to pencil Lucy into his office hours this morning. The girl hadn't been a fountain of information when Lucy asked about Perry. Apparently he was spending a lot more time locked in a room with his dissertation than on campus.

Slipping into the stream of students moving through the halls and up the stairs, Lucy didn't feel any different than she had when she'd been an undergrad working her way through her class schedule. When exactly would she start to feel her age? She still found herself considerably surprised to be in her forties and wondering when it would sink in that she was an adult with--probably--more than half her life behind her.

The slide-in nameplate beside the door identified Dr. Robert Dawson's office. The door was ajar and Lucy knocked lightly.

"Come in."

Not the voice of an aging professor but a deep, vigorous, baritone.

Lucy pushed the door open and stepped into a neat, well-organized masculine space presided over by a handsome man of about her age. He stood and offered his hand across his desk. "You must be Lucy Deen. Tanya told me you called."

No tweed and elbow patches for Dr. Dawson. He had on jeans and a lightly starched blue button down.

They shook and Lucy took a seat when he gestured her to a chair. "Did she mention why?"

Lucy had been debating the best way to approach this interview. Announcing that Belle was missing and his PhD candidate might be the