Patricia hesitated a second. “There is some word—very quiet, of course—that it may go all the way to the State House in Atlanta. It appears there were several other similar rings operating around the state, with a lot of political types taking a cut of the action. From all appearances, Kennesaw, you’ve unleashed a tidal wave of legal action.”

I reached to the pendant that hung from my neck and held it with the tips of my fingers. As soon as I was out of the emergency room, a kind nurse named Tryla, a Geechee girl from Pin Point, had recognized it for what it was and brought it to me. “I know you’ll want this,” she had said.

“I did little more than act as unintentional bait, Patricia. It was Joree, and Amber, and ultimately Tonya, who made it all happen. As soon as I started asking questions, Zimmer knew his house of cards was going to crash. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else.”

Patricia was looking at me with a solemn expression on her face.

“There’s something else, Kennesaw. Something else I have to tell you.”

“And what’s that, Patricia? Why the long face?”

“I spoke with Naomi a couple of hours ago. Amber passed away during the night.”

I felt something flutter in my chest and then depart—to be replaced by a sense of cold emptiness. I leaned back against the pillows and held Patricia’s look.

That poor girl. That poor sweet girl. She was gone and out of harm’s way. She was beyond suffering now, and for that, I was thankful.

“Did she give you the answer to the question I had you ask?”

Patricia nodded. “Yes. It turned out to be pretty close to what you thought. Tonya came to Amber’s place before she jumped. She said if it was this way, someone would eventually find her body and ask questions. But if Leon killed her—as he had threatened to do—they would drop her body down an abandoned well at some old farmhouse, and no one would ever know what had happened to her.

“Amber waited thirty minutes after Tonya left the house before she made the nine-one-one call. A few minutes later, she had a neighborhood boy, who sometimes ran errands for her, make the second call from the same phone. Next day, she pitched the phone in the trash.”

I took a few deep breaths and felt a stabbing pain in my side. There was also a lump in my throat, and my eyes blurred.

What a hopeless predicament for that poor girl—for Tonya. No one to turn to. No one to help. The very institutions that were supposed to protect and defend her were the very ones that preyed upon her and threatened her existence. How wretchedly tragic. How terribly sad.