He took a long breath. “When I walked in, the loan officer, Phil Gunderson, was surprised to see me. He said that a few days ago, somebody from the agency—it must’ve been Garrett—had called and told him to cancel the loan application. He said I’d signed the partnership agreement with Edgeway and wouldn’t be needing the money. He even offered to fax the bank a notarized copy of the contract.”

Allison gasped. “But you hadn’t even submitted the application.”

“I know. That’s the strangest thing of all. Whoever called the bank assumed I’d already applied for the loan. He sounded almost embarrassed when Phil told him he didn’t have the application.”

“But they’ve got it now, and they know that you really do need the loan.”

“Yes. But somebody else may have forged my signature on that contract, and notarized it, too. We need to go to the police.”

“But first we need evidence that a crime’s been committed,” Allison said. “You say Garrett, or whoever it was, offered to fax a copy of the contract?”

“Yes, but Phil told him not to bother. Too bad. Otherwise, we could’ve gotten a copy from the bank.”

“I’ll be back at work this afternoon,” Allison said. “Maybe I can find that forged agreement and make a copy.”

“I still don’t like your being there, Allison. Those people know how to play rough. Anything could go wrong.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just play the dumb blonde. I’ll be fine.” Allison spoke to reassure him, but she knew that finding and making a copy of the contract would be difficult and dangerous. Burke was right, anything could go wrong. But she couldn’t let the danger stop her.

* * *

“I’m asking you one last time, Allison. Don’t go back to that place. Let the police handle this.” Dressed in sweats and sneakers again, Burke sat in his armchair, finishing the ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet Allison had cooked for him. The trip to the bank had worn him out and left him in more pain than usual. He was doing his best to hide it, but Allison wasn’t fooled.

“You know that getting the police involved would just set off alarms,” she said. “Any evidence would vanish as if it had never existed. The same thing would happen if you tried to intervene. I’m the only one Garrett trusts.”

“Don’t be too sure of that. Garrett isn’t stupid. And I met a couple of those Edgeway goons before the accident. They’re straight out of central casting for The Godfather. Only they’re the real thing. They could literally make you disappear. I’ve even wondered whether the brakes on my Porsche were tampered with.”

“Your Porsche was in the garage. And nobody could have known you would leave that night, or that it would rain.”