“They were fair, at least before I had this cursed accident. I’ve got good credit history with the bank, and the theater’s free and clear, except for that short-term loan I took out. But now—” Burke shook his head. “The trouble is, I can’t do anything from this blasted hospital bed. Hell, I can’t even sit up long enough to fill out the paperwork or drive to talk to the loan officer. And Garrett has no interest in working with the bank. He wants to take the easy way out.”

“With an investor. I know about that. Garrett says he’s got one ready to sign on. So what’s the problem? Wouldn’t that solve everything? What’s holding you back?”

He exhaled with a pain-wracked breath. “You’ve been talking to Garrett. He’s a smart man. But he’s not telling you everything.”

“So far, neither are you. What am I missing?”

His eyes locked on hers. “Just this. Good, solid investors don’t grow on trees. And the American Heartland is an old theater. It would take a major upgrade to turn it into a moneymaker.”

“Go on,” Allison urged into the stillness.

“To find that investor he’s so keen on, Garrett had to scrape the mucky bottom of the barrel. Have you ever heard of the Edgeway Investment Group?”

Allison shook her head.

“I hadn’t either, until Garrett brought them by the office,” Burke said. “I did a background check on them—even talked to some connections I have in the FBI.”

He paused. Allison let her silence ask the next question.

“Edgeway is a front for the Mob, Allison,” he said. “They’ve been trying to get a foothold in Branson for years.”

Allison stifled a gasp. “Does Garrett know?”

“Of course he does. But the Edgeway people have convinced him that this will be a legitimate venture, and that they’ll be silent partners, collecting their share of the profits, but otherwise leaving us to run the business.”

“I take it you don’t believe that.”

“Hell, no!” The words exploded out of him. “They’ll be running the show by the time the ink’s dry on the contract. Garrett’s naïve and more than a little greedy. He wants quick cash and a bigger piece of the pie. What he doesn’t see is money laundering, drugs, pornography, and worse. I’ve read the contract. It would give the bastards free rein. I won’t sign it. I’ll let the American Heartland go under first, or burn it to the ground!”

The monitors above the bed were beeping an alarm. A nurse rushed into the room to give him more oxygen and encourage him to relax. After a few minutes Burke’s vitals stabilized. He lay back on the pillow, breathing deeply.

“What happened to him?” the nurse asked Allison.