“We’re hurting,” Shanley said simply. “In fact, we’re not just hurting, we’re going down. There’ve been some…inauspicious ventures, some poor investments over the past few years, and we find ourselves a trifle over extended.” He glanced quickly toward the closed door. “If there were ever to be a run on the bank…” He shook his head. “The big banks, the national banks, the multi-national banks, the ones with politicians in their pockets, if they were in our shoes, they’d get a bailout because they’re too big to fail, and their collapse would jolt the entire economy. Unfortunately, we’re not too big to fail. There’s not a politician alive who would lift a pinky finger to save us. Which means we’re on our own here. And that’s why I need you to meet with a representative of First People’s.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”

Coy was confused. “You’re the manager. Shouldn’t you or someone from the board—”

“We wouldn’t come off well,” Shanley said curtly. “Not for something like this. We’d take the blame for the bad decisions; we’d take the heat. They’d want to punish us. What we need is someone encouraging, someone who can put a positive spin on our situation, someone not involved in any decision-making, someone who can’t be blamed for anything we might have done or might not have done. A go-between. We need a go-between.”

“But…what would I say? I wouldn’t even know where to start or—”

The manager waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll tell you what to say.”

Coy reminded him of Florine’s midnight visit, of her declaration that Evergreen Title was now working exclusively with First People’s. “Should we address that, too?” he asked.

“We’ll address everything. We’re fighting for our lives here. It all has to be out in the open.”

Coy didn’t want to go. He thought about his previous spy mission, where he’d been unceremoniously ejected and tossed out on the sidewalk, but Shanley told him that the meeting had already been arranged and was scheduled for ten o’clock this morning. “So we’d better get busy. There’s a lot to go over.”