"I told you, that day, though the deputy didn't offer much encouragement. He found out she'd run off half a dozen times before. And like he said, with her eighteenth birthday coming up she'd be on her own, anyway. Said they'd do what they could, but he couldn't promise much. He as good as told me to go home and forget about her."

"Which you did."

"What else could I do? I didn't even know her mother's name. I guess the social worker called the mother."

"You think that's where she went, back to her mom?"

"Don't know and didn't care. With Wilbur gone, I had my hands full just trying to make ends meet. In case you intend to ask, I never heard from her again. Him either. Far as I know, we're still married, unless he's dead. That'd be something, wouldn't it?"

"You have reason to think something might have happened to him?"

"I'm saying, if he's alive, you'd think he could have dropped us a card. Thirty-six years married, that's the least he could do."

"What about Charisse's social worker? What was her name?"

"Don't remember. It's been too many years. Tinker, Tailor – something along those lines. I called and talked to her, and you know what she said? Said she never expected the arrangement to last; Charisse was such a pain. Not those words exactly, but that's the gist of it. I thought, Oh, thanks. Now she pipes up, after all I went through."

"You must have felt terrible."

She coughed a thick laugh into her fist, pausing then to cough in earnest. She took a sip of watery bourbon and then recovered herself. "Especially when I found out Wilbur'd emptied all the bank accounts.

Excuse me, are you about done here? Because if not, I intend to fix myself another drink –see if I can get some relief from this cough. That was my mother's remedy – whiskey and honey – though you ask me, it wasn't the honey that helped."

"Just a few more questions and then I'll let you get some rest. How did Charisse travel? Do you have any idea?"

"Wasn't by bus. I know because police checked on that. I suppose she hitched a ride with one of those hoodlums she ran around with once she got to Lockaby."

"You remember any of their names?"

"Couldn't tell one from the other. They were all the same – skanky-looking boys with bad skin."

"You heard about the car that was stolen from the back of Ruel's shop?"

"Everybody heard. He was fit to be tied."

"Is there any chance Charisse took it?"

"I doubt it. She didn't drive. Never passed the test. I offered to help her get her license, but she didn't get around to it. Afraid to fail, you ask me; worried she'd end up looking like a fool."

"How'd she get around if she didn't drive?"