“Tell the sheriff he can hang on to his golf games,” Richard said.

Michael gave a short, quiet laugh, set his hat straight, and turned for the back door.

“Look after your daughter, Richard.

You’ve earned this peace.”

“So long, Michael,” Richard said.

By ten o’clock the sun had climbed high enough to warm the wooden boards of the front porch.

The air was perfectly still, carrying the smell of pine sap and spring soil across the yard.

Emily pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch in a gray fleece pullover and dark jeans.