“Mrs. Griggs? This is Sheriff Schumann. I was wondering if you’d have time to answer some questions for me.” It was barely 8 a.m. on Tuesday. Riley was sitting on the front porch at Shutters, sipping her coffee and watching a blue heron poking around at something in the front yard. It had rained overnight, and the air was cool and fresh. Butterflies hovered over the red salvia in her mother’s flower beds, and the day would have seemed ripe with the promise of summer. If only. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “Is now a good time?” She looked down at her cotton nightgown and bare feet and sprang from the wooden rocking chair. “Right now?” “I could come over there if you like. I’m at the ferry dock in Southpoint, as a matter of fact.” “No, no,” Riley said quickly. “If it’s all right with you, could I meet you someplace else? My daughter is still pretty upset about everything.” “Have you had breakfast?” “Just coffee,” Riley said. “Then let’s meet at Onnalee’s.
