“I don’t think talking to the police would accomplish anything.”

Fred nodded. “The red tape would hold up the race.”

A thought tugged at Drake’s brain. Something about the collision. Just before he had ducked his head, he had noticed something about the truck. Or heard something. That was it. The noise of the engine had lessened. The driver had backed off the gas pedal-perhaps even put on his brakes. He hadn’t hit the taxi as hard as he could have.

What did that mean? Drake decided not to mention it to Fred.

“Isn’t the race supposed to start in…” Drake looked at his watch “…about an hour?” By some miracle, his watch was still working. It was coming up on noon. As he recalled, the race was scheduled to start at one.

“The start has been postponed until tomorrow morning. Casey is with the other runners now, explaining it to them.”

The race was already being delayed because of him. “I’m sorry I screwed it up. Are you going to be able to replace me?”

“Replace you? Of course not. You’re going to be in it.”

“Fred, perhaps you haven’t noticed, but I’m in no condition to run a race. Especially a race of six hundred miles.”

Fred sounded enthusiastic. “You’ll be fine. I just talked to the doctor. The glass cuts will heal quickly. The bruise on your chest is temporary. He’ll put a splint on your nose to hold it in place and protect it.”

“What about my back pain?”

“The x-rays show nothing but a little scoliosis.”

Curvature of the spine. “I’ve had that all my life.”

“That’s what the doctor suspected.”

“But what about the pain? I can hardly walk.”

“We’ll bring in physical therapists, massage therapists, whatever you need.”

“I couldn’t stand for anyone to touch me right now.”

“The doctor’s going to give you a prescription for morphine.”

“How come you know all this before I do?”