“And I told you I wouldn’t stand for Burke’s being harmed,” Allison said. “I know you’ve gotten yourself in pretty deep with Edgeway, Garrett. But I can’t believe you’d hurt Burke, let alone have him killed.”

“Maybe not. But I know people who would. He’s got to sign, Allison. With that short-term note due in a couple of months and the American Heartland bleeding money, Edgeway’s our only option. Can’t you get that through his stubborn head? Otherwise—”

The ringing desk phone interrupted him. Garrett snatched it up. “What is it, Monica? . . . What? . . . Oh, hell! Tell him I’m on my way.”

He gave the receiver an impatient slam. “That was Max at the theater. The matinee’s about to start, and the power’s gone out. The idiots can’t figure out how to turn it on. Probably just the breaker box, but right now, they’ve got an audience sitting in the pitch-dark, and some of the kids are starting to cry.” Without another word, he dashed out to his car, leaving Allison alone in his office, with the file cabinet unlocked.

Stunned by the incredible stroke of luck, Allison sprang into action. After closing the office door and locking it from the inside, she hurried to the file cabinet and found the forged contract in the drawer where Garrett had put it.

With the pages spread on the desk, she took the phone out of her pocket and started taking pictures. Willing her hands not to shake, she snapped a variety of close-ups and longer-range shots, making sure to miss nothing. She even took shots of the desk and the office, to show where the document had been found. At last, satisfied that she’d done her best, she returned her phone to her pocket, gathered the pages in order, and put them in the folder. Mission accomplished. All she had to do now was put the contract away and leave.

She was opening the file drawer when she heard the faint rattle of someone tugging on the locked door, followed by the click of a key in the lock. The door swung open. Garrett stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “The idiots didn’t need me after all,” he said. “I’d only gone a few blocks when I got the call—”

He stared at Allison, who stood frozen with one hand on the open drawer and the other holding the telltale folder. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Allison?”

There could be no talking her way out of this. “I wanted another look at the contract,” she said.

“You could have asked me.”

Allison dropped the folder into the drawer and closed it. “Sorry. I would’ve asked if you’d been here. But no harm done. Now, if we’re finished, I’ll get back to work.”