Erin lulled herself into a sense of serenity. It was a brilliant autumn afternoon, and other than the slight snub from Kane, the day had gone well. It wasn’t until late afternoon that her tranquil mood was destroyed.

Contrary to what she had expected, Erin had accomplished more work this day than she had in weeks. Kane Webster had seemed to more than amply fill Mitchell Cameron’s shoes, and all the disturbing telephone calls and interruptions that Erin had become used to had vanished. For the first time in over six months she could devote all her attention to the piles of probate work that had accumulated in her “Incoming” basket.

Erin was actually giving herself a mental commendation as she surveyed the clean desktop and slipped into the burgundy jacket before leaving the building. Just as she reached into the open desk drawer for her purse, there was a sharp rap on the door, and Olivia Parsons, not waiting for an invitation, glided into the room.

At the sultry brunette’s entrance, Erin felt a cold tingle of apprehension at the back of her neck. Olivia was holding a clipboard pressed firmly to her breasts and jangled something metallic in the air.

“New keys!” Olivia announced, and dropped a ring of keys with a jingle onto the desktop. The green shimmer of Olivia’s street-length designer dress matched the emerald essence of her eyes. “I’ll need all your old keys,” she stated flatly, and waited, somewhat impatiently, with her long fingers resting against her hip. The action emphasized the long, seductive curve of her leg.

“My keys? Why?”

“Standard procedure, after something like this embezzling thing with Mitch. Who can guess just how many sets of keys he’s had made for any door in this building?”

“Of course,” Erin agreed, and found herself relaxing a little as she realized that Olivia was just doing her job. Erin understood the liability of the bank. Even if Mitch had turned in his set of keys, he could have a dozen copies hidden away. The bank couldn’t take the chance that he might sneak back into the building or the vaults.

“Here they are,” Erin stated, producing the keys from the side pocket of her purse. She handed them to Olivia and the dark-haired girl frowned as she counted them. “Where’s the other one?” Olivia asked, a puzzled expression crowding her neatly arched brows.

“I don’t have any others. Just the key to the front door, the probate file cabinet, and Mitch’s office—unless you want my desk key.”

“No,” Olivia answered, checking the corresponding numbers on the keys against her chart. “What about the key to the securities cart?” she asked, her green eyes reassessing Erin.

“I haven’t had the key to that cart in years,” Erin said, thinking aloud. Absently she rubbed her temple. “It had to have been over seven years ago.” Again a chilly feeling of apprehension swept over her and her stomach began to knot.

“But the ledger here indicates that you should have a key to that cart,” Olivia maintained. Laying the white formal sheet of paper on Erin’s desk, she pointed to a line showing that Erin did, in fact, receive the key in question within the last year.