“That’s it, and it’s still full.”

The two of them stared at the bag as though expecting it to start breathing.

“She told Rusty she had spent the money. Every last cent,” Arden said, imitating Lisa’s spiteful tone.

“That would’ve been a trip wire.”

“Yes. He shot her instantly.” She continued to gaze down at the bag. “Did insurance cover the Welch’s loss?”

“Yes. At the time, that relieved my conscience a lot,” he said.

“Then what happens to stolen money that’s recovered?”

“I’m sure that young, fire-breathing prosecutor will know.”

“Hmm.” After a moment, she added, “Imagine the paperwork that will involve, and he’s already got so much work ahead of him.”

Ledge looked at her askance. “What are you thinking?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m thinking what a befitting donation this would be to launch my foundation. Something that caused so much grief being used for something good. It should be earmarked for a particularly worthy cause. Say, Alzheimer’s research and treatment.”

He swallowed hard and said huskily, “I like the way you think.”

“Good. We’re agreed.”

He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. “This explains why Lisa didn’t want any work done on the house.”

“It explains more than that.”

He looked at her inquisitively.

“I didn’t understand the last word she spoke, and, even if I had, I couldn’t have grasped the implication of it. Not until now.”

“What was the word?”

Softly, Arden said, “Penance.”