She opened the car door. The bag was nowhere in sight. Panic seized her until she remembered that she’d dropped it into the console between the two front seats. The bag was still there, and she could see the key ring, with five keys on it, through the transparent plastic. She reached in and looped the ring over her finger. She could only hope that one of those keys would open the desk.

“Found it!” She breezed past the receptionist’s desk, past the large cubicle room where the agents worked, and into Burke’s office, which had been opened for her. The office was enclosed by glass windows, but the venetian blinds were closed, giving her some privacy.

After shutting the door behind her, she examined the ring of keys. She recognized the key to the wrecked Porsche, as well as the key to the house. She assumed that the other two larger keys opened office doors, which left just one small one. If it didn’t open the tall metal file cabinet, she would be out of luck.

Burke had mentioned that he’d spent hours working on the loan application for the theater update. She had to get her hands on that application, keep it safe, and maybe help him finish and submit it to the bank.

Allison already knew the application wasn’t in the house. She’d rifled the desk looking for the missing contracts Garrett had wanted. The unfinished application had to be here, in Burke’s office, probably in the file cabinet.

Her hand shook slightly as she thrust the small key into the lock.

The lock didn’t open.

She stared at the key. The brand logo stamped onto it matched the one on the filing cabinet, and the key slid easily into the lock, but nothing moved. Allison tried again, jiggling and twisting the key. Again, nothing.

After dropping the keys into her pocket, she sank onto the padded leather chair behind the desk, her thoughts racing in circles, always to the same conclusion. Garrett had an identical file cabinet in his office. Before giving her the key ring, could he have switched Burke’s key with his own, giving him access to Burke’s files?

It didn’t make sense that he’d stoop so low. But neither did any other explanation. Could he have been looking for the loan application—maybe to hide or destroy it, so it couldn’t be submitted in time to save the theater from foreclosure? If that were to happen, it would leave the Edgeway Group as the only option.

This was crazy, Allison told herself. She was making up stories in her head.