Jeannie hated to make things about race and gender, but as a Black woman herself, she thought she might get further with LaToya without her white male partner with her. Thirty minutes later, she pulled up to LaToya’s block off Good Hope Road in the Fairlawn neighborhood and parked. She approached the black door bearing a Christmas wreath with trepidation, hoping she’d have the chance to speak with LaToya.

She rang the bell and waited off to the side, always leery of people shooting through closed doors, especially since that’d happened to Sam and Freddie.

The door swung open.

Jeannie recognized LaToya from press coverage of the kidnapping. She had put on considerable weight since then and had a world-weary look to her that told the story of her long ordeal.

Jeannie held up her gold shield. “Detective McBride, Metro PD, to see LaToya Deasly.”

“I’m LaToya.” She eyed Jeannie suspiciously. “Did you find my daughter?”

“Not yet, ma’am, but I’m working on her case and was hoping for the chance to speak to you.”

“Are you the one who got abducted and raped?”

The question hit Jeannie like a fist to her already churning gut. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I followed the coverage of that. They said you were gutsy.”

“I survived.” Just barely, Jeannie thought.

“Come in.”

Jeannie followed LaToya into a warm, inviting living room that led into an eat-in kitchen.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Water would be great. Thanks.” The offer of refreshments was much more than she’d expected from LaToya, who had every reason to despise the MPD and everyone associated with it.

“Have a seat.”

Jeannie joined her at the kitchen table.

“I have to say, it’s a shock to find an MPD detective on my front porch. I’ve gotten nowhere with your department for years.”

“I know, and I apologize for the failures of others. I wish I had a better explanation for you than people being overworked, but there’s nothing I could say that would ever make this right.”

“No, there isn’t. But if you find my daughter, I might find a way to forgive the sins of the past.”

“I want very much to find your daughter, and I’ve been reviewing everything I can about her disappearance. I spoke with the former boyfriend of the prime suspect.”

“Daniella,” she said in a dead-sounding tone. “My ex-best friend, who I’ve always believed kidnapped my child. There’s no way it’s a coincidence that she disappeared around the same time.”

“I don’t believe it is either.”