I’ll say this for Doak Garland, he didn’t just whip out a platitude, as some men of the cloth were prone to do. He mulled the idea over. “There’s a lot in that,” he said. “But really, Ms. Connelly, that’s just assigning a scapegoat to bear the sins of all of us.”

I thought in my turn. “Okay, there’s something to that, too,” I admitted. “But there is blame to be assigned here, and the former sheriff should shoulder at least some of it.”

“As he did,” Doak Garland said. “In fact, it would be a good idea if I dropped by to see him. He may be thinking the same way you are.”

I wondered if the pastor was trying to make me feel guilty in turn, but I didn’t. I don’t like to see people get depressed or shunned, but I knew that in my own experience, you had to assume responsibility for your own actions before you could move along with your life.

We didn’t have any more to say, I felt. I raised my eyebrows at Tolliver, and he said, “Pastor, we’ve got to be going.” Without further conversation, we rolled up our windows and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Tolliver asked. “I mean, I can drive around aimlessly, but since there are still patches of ice…”

“I’m hungry, what about you?” I asked, and that was easy to answer. All the businesses in Doraville appeared to be open now, and people were going about their affairs with an air of relief. I felt relieved, too. We could get out of here just about any time now.

“What if we just left?” Tolliver said. “We could be on the interstate going in the right direction in an hour. We could find twenty restaurants.”

I was surely tempted. We were sitting in the parking lot of the McDonald’s again, and I stared at the golden arches, trying to feel something besides resignation.

“We have to return the key,” I said, stalling.

“Yeah, a five-minute delay.”

“Will they let us?”

“‘They’ being the SBI guys? Sandra Rockwell?”

“Any of the above.”

“What could they want us for?”

“We haven’t signed a statement about yesterday.”

“Yeah, true. We might need to stop by the police station for forty-five minutes and do that. Okay, let’s go get a burger, and then we’ll tie things up.”

I wanted to leave, really I did, but there was something nagging at me, or maybe two or three things nagging at me. But I kept reminding myself I wasn’t a police officer, and I wasn’t responsible. On the other hand, if I suspected something, I should mention it to someone who’d take me seriously.