Maggie looked at him again. This time her smile came a bit more easily. “I appreciate that. I can offer you coffee, if you don’t mind the mess in the kitchen.”

He smiled and looked so solid, so pleasant, Maggie almost forgot the gun at his hip. “I never turn down coffee.”

“The kitchen’s down here,” she began, then laughed. “I don’t have to tell you, do I? You’d know this house as well as I do.”

He fell into step beside her. “Tell you the truth, I’ve been around the outside, hacking at the weeds now and again or hunting, but I’ve only been inside a handful of times. The Morgans moved out when Joyce was still a kid.”

“Yes, she told me.”

“Nobody’s lived here for more’n ten years. Louella just let it go after the old man died.” He glanced up at the cracked ceiling paint. “She held it in trust till Joyce inherited it at twenty-five. You probably heard I held Joyce off from selling.”

“Well …” Uncertain how to respond, Maggie busied herself at the stove.

“Guess I thought we’d fix it up eventually, rent it out again.” To her, he sounded like a man who knew about dreams but never found the time for them. “But a big old place like this needs a lot of time and money to put right. Joyce probably did the right thing, selling out.”

“I’m glad she did.” After switching on the coffeemaker, Maggie indicated a chair.

“With Bog handling repairs and Delaney working on the grounds, you picked the right men.” When Maggie just looked at him, the sheriff grinned again. “Nothing travels fast in small towns but news.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Look, what happened yesterday …” He paused, clearing his throat. “I know it must be rough on you. I gotta tell you, Joyce was worked up about it. A lot of people who’d find something like that a stone’s throw from their house would just pull up stakes and take off.”

Maggie reached in the cabinets for cups. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Glad to hear it.” He was silent a moment, watching her pour the coffee. Her hands looked steady enough. “I understand Cliff was here yesterday, too.”

“That’s right. He was overseeing some of the work.”

“And your dog dug up—”

“Yes.” Maggie set both cups on the table before she sat down. “He’s just a puppy. Right now he’s asleep upstairs. Too much excitement.”

The sheriff waved away her offer of cream, sipping the coffee black. “I didn’t come to press you for details. The state police filled me in. I just wanted to let you know I was as close as the phone if you needed anything.”

“I appreciate that. I’m not really familiar with the procedure, but I suppose I should’ve called you yesterday.”

“I like to take care of my own territory,” he said slowly, “but with something like this—” He shrugged. “Hell, I’d’ve had to call in the state, anyway.” She watched his wedding ring gleam dully in the sunlight. Joyce had had a matching one, Maggie recalled. Plain and gold and solid. “Looks like you’re redoing this floor.”