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“Do you want me to take it when he does?”

“No. Let it ring.”

A soft knock sounded on the heavy oak door, and Tracy from reception leaned in.

“Sheriff Finn’s here.”

“Send him in.”

Sheriff Finn stepped through the door a moment later, a stony expression on his face. From what her brother had said, there wasn’t a great deal of crime in this little town, so a murder probably wasn’t what the man had planned for his day.

Sam and the sheriff shook hands, and he glanced at Alli, then back at Sam.

“This is Allison Crenshaw. She’s working with me. Anything you say to me, you can say in front of her.”

“This isn’t for public consumption,” the sheriff said. “Not yet.”

Alli nodded in agreement, as did Sam.

“I won’t keep you long,” Sheriff Finn said. “Just wanted to give you the preliminary read before it gets passed around in fragments and gets twisted and wrong.”

“I appreciate that,” Sam replied. “We all cared a great deal about Leigh here at the firm.”

“From what I can see, it looks like a robbery gone wrong. Her purse was open in the car. Wallet missing, no cash, no cards. Her phone is gone, too.”

Alli watched Sam’s face closely, looking for his reaction to the news. He didn’t have much of one, but he’d just said that he was good at compartmentalizing.

“Any sign of struggle in the garage?”

“No, it doesn’t appear to be the location of the crime. We’re looking for that now. While I’m here, I need to ask about her emergency contacts. Anybody we should be reaching out to? Husband? Children?”

“She wasn’t married and didn’t have any kids. I think she has family back east. She’d go there two or three times a year. I can have HR pull her file.”

“That’d help.”

Sam picked up the phone again, dialed down to HR, and asked for Leigh Gabler’s emergency contact information. He listened, said thank you, then asked the woman to hold and put her on speaker.

“Can you repeat that for Sheriff Finn?”

“The listed emergency contact is a Daniel Riggs, with a Boston area code. Relationship listed as ‘partner.’”

Sam appeared puzzled by the reply from HR, but Alli didn’t understand why. It all seemed straightforward to her.

“Who was the contact before that?” Sam asked, leaning against the corner of the large oak desk.

There was a pause on the other end, and then the soft click of a keyboard.

“Her sister. Margaret Gabler Powell, also Boston. Relationship listed is sister. The change was made about six months ago.”

“Thanks. Send everything you have on Mr. Riggs directly to Sheriff Finn, and copy me in email, please. Whatever’s in the file.”

Sam ended the call and turned back to the sheriff.

“Do you know Mr. Riggs?” the sheriff asked. “I ask that because while I’m perfectly fine informing him of Ms. Gabler’s death, if you knew him, it might be better if you were there, too.”

“No. I’ve never met him. I didn’t even know she had a partner. She kept that part of her life private.”

The sheriff raised his brows in question at Sam’s response, but he didn’t ask any more questions.