“Louella’s on the edge of a complete breakdown. Who knows if she’d be capable of making a coherent sentence if all this comes out? I have to think of Joyce, of my family, of my reputation.” A muscle began to jerk in his cheek as he stared at Maggie. “There’s so much at stake,” he whispered. “So much to protect.”

She watched his hand hover over the butt of his gun.

Cliff started up the steep lane at full speed, spitting gravel. Joyce’s breathless story told him one vital thing. Maggie was caught in the middle of violence and passion that had simmered underground for ten years. If it erupted today, she’d be alone—alone because he’d been a fool. As he rounded the top curve, a man stepped into the path of the car, forcing him to brake. Swearing, Cliff stormed out of the car.

“Mr. Delaney,” Reiker said mildly. “Mrs. Agee.”

“Where’s Maggie?” Cliff demanded, and would’ve moved past him if Reiker hadn’t stopped him with a surprisingly strong grip.

“She’s inside. At the moment, she’s fine. Let’s keep it that way.”

“I’m going up.”

“Not yet.” He gave Cliff a long, steely look before he turned to Joyce. “Your mother’s inside, Mrs. Agee. She’s fine, sleeping. Your husband’s in there, too.”

“Stan.” Joyce looked toward the house, taking an instinctive step forward.

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on things. Your husband told Miss Fitzgerald everything.”

Cliff’s blood iced. “Damn it, why haven’t you gotten her out?”

“We’re going to get her out. We’re going to get them all out. Quietly.”

“How do you know he won’t hurt her?”

“I don’t—if he’s pushed. I want your help, Mrs. Agee. If your husband loves you as much as he says, you’re the key.” He looked toward the house. “He’d have heard the car. Better let him know you’re here.”

Inside the house, Stan had Maggie by the arm, holding her close as he stood at the window. She could feel his muscles jumping, hear his breath whistling. As terror washed over her, she closed her eyes and thought of Cliff. If he’d come back, everything would be all right. If he came back, the nightmare would end.

“Someone’s out there.” Stan jerked his head toward the open window, and his free hand opened and closed on the butt of his gun. “I can’t let you talk to anyone. You have to understand. I can’t risk it.”

“I won’t.” His fingers dug into her arm so that the pain kept her head clear. “Stan, I want to help you. I swear I only want to help. If you hurt me, it’ll never be over.”