I merely pursed my lips and nodded my head in commiseration. I could see this was just part of the background in the household, because in the next blink of her eye, Joree seemed to have forgotten about it entirely.

“Come sit down here,” she said, indicating the vacant recliner. Instead, I sat at the nearest end of the sofa.

Joree sat at the other end and lit a cigarette before jumping up and saying, “Shoot, ’bout lost my own manners there—it’s so seldom I have any real company. Would you like something to drink? A Co-Cola maybe, or a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks,” I replied. “Perhaps later.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I have somethin’ myself,” she said as she stepped to the refrigerator.

“No, not at all,” I said as she popped the top on a soft-drink can.

Returning to the sofa, she plopped down at the other end. Putting her back against the armrest and pulling her feet up underneath herself, she took a long drink from the can before setting it down and giving attention, once again, to her cigarette.

“You didn’t have no trouble findin’ the place, did you?” she asked, blowing a stream of blue smoke toward the ceiling.

“No,” I responded. “Your directions were excellent.”

“Well, that’s good. That’s real good,” she said, almost absently, as she took a long drag on her cigarette.

She acts as though she has no idea why I am here—or as though she wishes I weren’t here. Well, that’s immaterial. It was time to get with the program, I thought. The woman sitting here had come to me with her problem, not the other way around, and now was the time for answers and not speculation. It appeared there was nothing for it but to dive right in.

“Joree, why do you think someone harmed Tonya? What gives you cause to think that?” I asked.

Joree continued to smoke and stare at the wall.

“Well,” she said, before pausing again for several seconds. “She was out there amongst some bad people.”

“What bad people? Who were they? What were their names?” I queried.

Joree smoked and continued staring at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. She took another pull on her cigarette, and as she exhaled, she shook her head and tears came to her eyes.

“I don’t know who they are,” she said in a small voice. “Only thing I know is that the last time I talked to her, she said she was worried that they was gonna get her.”

“Did she say who they were? Did she say why they were going to get her?”

Joree shook her head. “No, she didn’t.”

“When was that, Joree—the last time you spoke with your daughter? Was it here? Did she come see you? Did you meet somewhere? Or was it a phone call?”