She’d known she’d have to tell him. It was the not knowing what there would be afterward that left her insides cold and knotted. “Lieutenant Reiker was here today,” she began, but carefully removed Cliff’s hand from her face.

Cliff swore, cursing himself for leaving her alone. “What’d he want?”

Maggie shrugged and sipped at the scotch again. “He’s a man who doesn’t like loose ends. Apparently he’s been finding quite a number. It seems William Morgan withdrew twenty-five thousand dollars from his bank account on the day he was murdered.”

“Twenty-five thousand?”

He sounded surprised, Maggie noted. Genuinely surprised. She recognized his expression, that thoughtful, narrow-eyed look that meant he was considering all the details and angles.

How could she be certain of anything any longer? “The money was never recovered. One of Reiker’s theories is that the murderer hid it away, patiently waiting until people forgot about Morgan.”

Cliff’s eyes sharpened. Automatically, he turned his head and looked back to the house. “Here?”

“Possibly.”

“Ten years is a damn long time to sit on twenty-five thousand,” Cliff muttered. Still, he didn’t care for loose ends, either. “Did you tell him about the trunk in the attic?”

“Yes, he had a look at it himself.”

He touched her shoulder, just his fingertips, so lightly that the touch offered whatever support she might want to take. “It’s upset you.” Maggie said nothing, nor did she look at him. Tension began to work at his own muscles. “There’s more.”

“There’s always more,” Maggie said quietly. Now she looked at him; she had to. “He mentioned that Morgan’s mistress had disappeared right after his death.” She felt Cliff’s fingers tighten convulsively on her shoulder just as she felt the waves of anger.

“She wasn’t his mistress,” Cliff said tightly. “My mother might’ve been foolish enough to fall in love with a man like Morgan, she might’ve been unwise enough to sleep with him, but she wasn’t his mistress.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Maggie demanded. “Why did you wait until I found out this way?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you or with anything that’s happened here.” As restless anger swarmed in him, he rose.

“Coincidences,” Maggie said quietly, but Cliff turned and stared down at her. “Weren’t you the one who said not to trust coincidences?”