“No.” Concerned, she touched his arm. “But she told me she wanders at night, and—” Maggie broke off and circled the room. Could she tell him what Louella had said? He was her son-in-law, but he was still the sheriff. The badge and the gun he wore reminded her.

“I heard what she told you, Maggie.”

She turned, her eyes filled with compassion and concern. “What should we do? She’s so fragile. I can’t bear to be a part of having her punished for something that happened so long ago. And yet, if she killed …” With her conscience tearing her in different directions, she turned again.

“I don’t know.” Stan looked at Louella while he rubbed the back of his neck. “What she told you doesn’t have to be true.”

“But it makes sense,” Maggie insisted. “She knew about the money. If she’d hid it in the trunk, then forgotten about it, blocked it out because it reminded her—” Maggie shook her head and forced herself to continue. “Stan, it’s the only explanation for the break-in here.” She covered her face with her hands as her sense of right and wrong battled. “She needs help,” Maggie said abruptly. “She doesn’t need police or lawyers. She needs a doctor.”

Relief ran over Stan’s face. “She’ll get one. The best one Joyce and I can find.”

Shaky, uncertain, Maggie rested a hand on the table. “She’s devoted to you,” she murmured. “She always speaks so highly of you, of how you love Joyce. I think she’d do anything she could to keep both of you happy.”

As she spoke, Maggie’s gaze was drawn down to where her palm rested—on the color snapshot of Morgan and Stan, near the gully. It would all be laid to rest now, she thought as she stared down at the photo. Louella had suffered enough, been punished enough for—

Distracted, she narrowed her eyes and looked closer. Why it came to her now, Maggie would never know, but she remembered Reiker’s words. “We found a ring, too, an old ring with a lot of fancy carving and three small diamond chips … Joyce Agee identified it as her father’s.”

But in the picture William Morgan wasn’t wearing the ring. Stan Agee was.

She looked up, her eyes dry and clear with the knowledge.

He didn’t have to look at the picture under her hand. He’d already seen. “You should’ve let it go, Maggie.”