When I turned to Danny Ray, I found him standing nearby, a shy smile on his face as he looked at me from beneath the low pulled brim of his Atlanta Braves cap.

“Danny Ray,” I said in wonder, “this is magnificent. You created this? You did this yourself?”

Danny Ray nodded his head twice to say yes.

“I’ve never seen its like before. You should do this as a business,” I continued.

Danny Ray shook his head. “O-o-only for friends.”

I looked around and nodded in agreement. I knew what he meant. This was something too personal for commerce. It was like a beautiful painting or a sculpture. Only this was a living thing; it was as perfect in its own way as is the beauty of a small child.

I looked at Danny Ray in admiration and thought, not for the first time, what a surprising human being he was.

Danny Ray, pointing to the chairs, said, “H-h-have a seat.”

As Danny went to the trailer and ducked inside, I settled into the chair nearest the stream, where I could best hear the lilting song of running water, and made myself comfortable. Danny Ray returned a few seconds later with a bucket of ice that held several bottles of beer, along with a bowl filled with fresh-roasted peanuts.

Danny Ray opened a couple of bottles, passed one over to me, and then leaned over to present his bottle in salutation. We clinked bottles and each took a long pull on the icy brew. I scooped up a handful of peanuts and began to pop open the shells and toss the nuts into my mouth.

Probably nothing goes better together than cold beer and fresh-roasted Georgia peanuts, I thought as I wiped the shell fragments off my hands on the legs of my jeans. I took another swig of beer before speaking.

“Danny Ray, I’ve been wondering something, and I wanted to ask you a question.”

Danny set his bottle on the rock table and gave me a nod. “Th-th-thought so. Wh-what is it?”

“How did Joree find you? Did you know her before y’all came to see me the other night?”

Danny Ray was still and looked at me quietly for a few seconds before replying.

“She’s a fr-fr-fr-friend of family. My m-m-mother comes from the same place up th-th-there.” Danny pointed north, toward Effingham County, where Joree lived, “P-P-P-Panther Creek.”

“Did you know her yourself, her or the girl?” I asked.

He shook his head. “N-n-n-no. Just h-h-h-heard about them.”

“Uh-huh,” I responded, and then thought for a few seconds before asking, “Danny Ray, can you come up with any reason why Joree would think her daughter was killed? Did she say anything to you when you drove her back to her car?”

Danny Ray cast his eyes downward and after a bit he shook his head slowly side to side before looking up again.