Erin raced to the telephone and dialed Mitch’s number. A busy signal beeped flatly in her ear. Either Mitch had taken the receiver off the hook, or he was already being plied by inquisitive friends and reporters.

As quickly as possible she scooped up the paper, grabbed her purse and slipped on her coat. She took the steps two at a time and nearly ran over Mrs. Cavenaugh on her way out the door. On the run, she apologized to the startled old woman and hurried out to the car. She turned on the ignition, the little car sparked to life and Erin proceeded on a mad dash to the bank, hampered only by the early-morning rush-hour traffic.

When she got to the bank, it was already crawling with employees. Although it was still early, it seemed that everyone had arrived with time to spare on this first day of new bank ownership. Erin pushed herself into the crowded elevator and wedged herself between two women.

“Have you seen the paper today?” a middle-aged woman with a faddish, curly hairstyle asked her friend.

“Not yet—I usually wait until coffee break. There’s just not enough time in the morning, what with getting the kids off to school, you know,” the shorter woman in a pink raincoat replied.

The elevator started its upward motion. “Then you haven’t heard about Mitchell Cameron?” the curly-haired woman asked.

“Cameron? The head of the legal department?”

“That’s right. Seems that the new president—that Mr. Webster—had him fired.”

“No!”

“That’s right,” the taller woman said with a firm shake of her head. Her voice lowered, and she looked over her shoulder as she continued. “They suspect that Mr. Cameron was involved in some embezzling scheme…”

“The head of the legal department? Are you sure?”

Erin pretended not to hear the conversation. The elevator stopped on the seventeenth floor and the two women continued their conversation as they disembarked. Erin closed her eyes for a minute. By this time the entire bank staff had heard about Mitch. Could it possibly be true? She fervently hoped that Kane was wrong about Mitch.

The elevator stopped with a jolt, and Erin walked into the legal department. She was early, and only a few of the more aggressive young employees had made it to their desks. There were a few new faces in the crowd, probably some of Kane’s imported troubleshooters from California, Erin guessed as she passed by the reception area and picked up her telephone messages. The most compelling of the notes was a handwritten memo from Kane indicating that he wanted to see her in his office immediately.

After taking off her coat, she armed herself with the newspaper and marched into his office. An eerie, nostalgic feeling gripped her when she discovered that the familiar brass nameplate of Mitchell Cameron had been torn from the door. Only two fine drill holes remained in the wood panels to remind Erin that just last week Mitch had occupied this office.