“No, of course not.” Scratch that idea, Allison thought. She was about to walk away when another thought occurred to her.

“Does anyone in the office happen to be a notary?” she asked. “A friend of mine needs her will notarized, and I thought maybe . . .” Allison let the words trail off.

“I’m a notary,” Monica said. “It’ll be useful, with all the contract work we’ll be doing here. But I’m not in the habit of doing favors for people’s friends. Tell her to go to her bank. Somebody there should be able to help her.”

“Thank you, I will.” Allison turned and walked away, past the cubicles and down the hall. Burke’s office—temporarily hers—was open, the desk piled with more contracts to review and add to the database. The next door, the one to Garrett’s office, was closed. She could hear male voices through the wall but couldn’t make out anything that was being said.

So much for her daring, dangerous spy mission.

* * *

At least she’d learned that Monica could have notarized the fake signature on the document. That, in itself, proved nothing. Copying Burke’s scrawling signature would have been easy. He had signed most of these contracts. And Edgeway probably had access to a skilled forger. But what about the date? If the signature had been dated during the time Burke was in the hospital, on painkillers, that would be a red flag.

As Allison worked, she tried to imagine what would happen if Burke were to get the bank loan. Would Edgeway fold their cards and leave, or would they take the fake agreement and dig in, forcing Burke to take them to court in a case that could delay the remodeling for months, causing the theater to miss the profitable spring season and the loan payments to fall into default?

It appeared that Edgeway’s original intent had been to block the bank loan, leaving Burke with no choice except to take on his new partners. The forged agreement would enable them to get bids and start the remodeling while they waited for Burke to give in and accept the inevitable.

Now, if Burke were to get the loan, the complications could be just as bad, or even worse.

There was only one sure way to save the situation—prove criminal intent on the part of Garrett and Edgeway. And that, Allison knew, would be up to her.

She worked uninterrupted until about three thirty. She was thinking about a break when she heard the door to Garrett’s office open, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps and the murmur of male voices. An instant later, Garrett stepped into her office, followed by two men. Allison recognized Kaplan, the lawyer. The bigger, older man in the tailored Italian suit would be Zacharias.