A Twist Of Fate

Jim squirmed only slightly as he went on to explain. “That’s about the size of it. We’re watching Cameron round the clock, night and day. We know that he hasn’t pocketed the funds himself, because we’ve kept him tied up with auditors and the like ever since it became apparent that he was embezzling trust funds. So far he hasn’t become suspicious.”

Kane wasn’t convinced. “And his friend?”

“Somehow she’s still manipulating the accounts and taking money.” Jim shook his head and grimaced. “I haven’t been able to trace it to her as yet. She’s very clever.”

Kane sat thoughtfully in his chair and pulled out the personnel files that Jim had handed him. He didn’t doubt Jim’s assumption that Cameron had a woman accomplice. He’d worked with Jim too many years not to respect the younger man’s opinion. Jim’s suspicions had always paid off in the end for Consolidated Finances.

The names on the personnel reports meant nothing to Kane, and at first glance, all of the files seemed to hold nothing out of the ordinary. “You’re sure that the thief is one of these people?”

Jim nodded his head in affirmation. “No one else has the authority to move bank funds so freely.”

“But couldn’t someone else forge a superior’s order?”

“I thought about that too. I had it checked out, but the auditing system of the bank is too complete. No, our misguided embezzler is sitting right there in that envelope. All we have to do is figure out who she is.”

Kane puzzled over Jim’s recent discoveries in what had appeared to be a sleepy little Seattle bank. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the trap that he would set for Cameron and his accomplice. The fact that it was a woman interested Kane. He had learned several years ago that women could be a devious lot, and it only reinforced his bitter opinion of the opposite sex to learn of the female embezzler.

Jim Haney watched the play of emotions that traversed Kane’s dark features. He had worked with Kane for over ten years and had come to know his boss as well as anyone. Kane was a fair employer, but Jim knew from past experience that Kane could be ruthless if crossed. Right now, as Kane’s lips thinned, Jim was thankful that his name wasn’t Mitchell Cameron. And he couldn’t help but feel pity for the unfortunate woman who had gotten tangled up with Cameron. Jim had his own opinion about the accomplice’s identity, and he had met the woman. It was damned hard to believe that such an intelligent, sophisticated woman would be involved with the likes of Cameron. Oh, well—that was Kane’s problem. “Did you want me to have the police go to work on Cameron?” he asked.

“No.” Kane shook his head, still immersed in his thoughts. “I’ll see to it personally. I’m leaving for Seattle tonight.” A satisfied grin moved over Kane’s features.

“You’re really going to enjoy throwing the book at Cameron, aren’t you?”

“And the woman! I don’t like any thief—especially when she’s got her hands in my pockets!” Kane retorted. “This just gives me one more reason to head north as soon as possible.”

“That’s something I don’t understand at all,” Jim admitted. “Why you bought that miserable excuse of a bank—it’s been losing money for years—just so you can freeze your tail off in Seattle.”

“California lost its sparkle for me quite a while ago,” Kane muttered tersely, then softened his tone as he caught the wounded look in Jim’s eyes. “You know of course about Krista. The doctor thinks a change of climate would be good for her. As soon as I have a permanent residence, I’ll send for her.”

A personal question died on Jim’s lips as he noticed the sober tone of Kane’s final words. He hadn’t gotten to be vice-president of Consolidated Finances by asking questions that were none of his business. He’d heard the rumors associated with Kane: a glamorous ex-wife, a sticky divorce and an unfortunate accident. But Jim had never pried. He was too interested in self-preservation to open doors that Kane preferred locked.

Kane pushed the manila envelope into his briefcase along with a small portrait of his daughter. He paused for a minute and looked at the eager young face before tucking the picture into a side pocket in the leather case. That accomplished, he snapped the briefcase closed.

“The moving company will take care of the rest of this litter,” Kane observed, looking around his office for one last time. “If you need to get in touch with me, Carla has the number of my hotel in Seattle.”

“Good luck,” Jim said, clasping Kane’s hand warmly.

“Let’s hope I don’t have to rely on luck!” With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Kane walked out of his office for the last time.

The early-model Volkswagen Rabbit skidded to an abrupt halt, splashing dirty rainwater from the street up onto the sidewalk. The driver of the little yellow car was a slim, striking woman who pulled the emergency brake, slung her purse over her shoulder and slammed the car door shut without taking the time to lock it. She hastened through the damp September evening toward the cozy Irish bar.

There was a determined and slightly mysterious gleam in her large eyes as she hiked her raincoat up and clutched the collar tightly to her throat. Sidestepping a puddle of water as if it were second nature, she pushed her way through the stained-glass door of the restaurant.

The familiar interior was dark, but Erin’s eyes became quickly accustomed to the dim lighting and the air thick with cigarette smoke. Loud, tinny music was coming from a rather bedraggled-looking band reminiscent of the late fifties.

Unconsciously Erin wiped away a few drops of rain that still lingered on her cheeks, while she moved her gaze over the Friday night throng of customers that was heralding the beginning of what promised to be another rainy Seattle weekend.

Appreciative glances and admiring smiles followed her movements, but she ignored everyone other than the distinguished man of about fifty sitting before the polished bottles and the mirrored backdrop of the bar. Erin’s eyes met his in the reflection, and for a moment a dark, guarded look crossed over his distracted blue eyes. Finally he smiled tightly and motioned for her to take the vacant stool at his side.

“Mitch,” Erin sighed almost gratefully. “What on earth are you doing here?”

He hesitated, and in that instant, any warmth in his eyes faded. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Olivia Parsons thought you might be here,” Erin replied. Her smile disappeared at the thought of the leggy brunette.

“Oh, I see. Dear old Livvie,” Mitch mumbled sarcastically. “Your friend and mine! Here’s to friendship.” He waved his glass theatrically in the air and signaled to the bartender for another drink. “What can I get you, Erin?”

“Nothing,” Erin whispered, trying to keep the conversation as quiet as possible and yet be heard over the din of the band.

“Nothing?” he echoed, mimicking her. “Not going to join me for old times’ sake?”

“What are you talking about and why are you here?” she asked, confused by his cynical attitude. Where was the kind man with the soft voice and the dry sense of humor whom she had known for over eight years? Mitch didn’t bother to answer her questions. He seemed intent on evading the issue, but she persisted. “Mitch, what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks suspiciously like you’re getting smashed,” she replied honestly.

“Very astute, young lady. I always did say that you were a smart girl, Erin.” Mitch drained his old drink and reached for the new one. “Are you sure you won’t join me? The Scotch is excellent!” Erin shook her head, but Mitch accosted the bartender. “Bring the lady a glass of Chablis,” he commanded over Erin’s protests.

Erin was having trouble hiding her annoyance with her boss and his unpredictable mood swings, but she kept her temper in check and tried a more subtle approach with him. “Why did you leave the bank early today?” A glass of chilled white wine appeared on the bar before her.

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Erin asked uneasily. There was a menacing quality about Mitch that she wasn’t accustomed to and didn’t like.

Mitch shrugged and Erin noticed that his shoulders drooped. “Why don’t you ask Kane Webster, if you’re so interested.”

“Webster? The new president of the bank? What does he have to do with the fact that you left the office and your clients in order to promote a hangover?” she inquired. Mitch had changed dramatically in the last several months. His behavior had become erratic, almost secretive, and his work had suffered. However, until today Erin had never had to cover for him with a client or track him down in some bar. Erin counted Mitch as one of the few close friends she had in the world, and it pained her to witness his deterioration.

She couldn’t forget that Mitch had helped her through an agonizing period in her life by offering her a challenging job and a chance to bury herself in her work. He had encouraged her to do postgraduate work in law and keep busy in order to forget about Lee and the embarrassment and heartache she had suffered while she was married to him. Mitch had helped Erin realize that when Lee had left her eight years before, it hadn’t been the end of the world. When she had needed a friend, Mitchell Cameron had been there. And now, if Mitch had a problem, Erin vowed to return the favor.

“Mrs. Anderson was in today,” Erin stated, and took the glass of wine from the bar. “She was very disappointed that you weren’t able to meet with her yourself. Somehow she didn’t really think that I was a suitable replacement for the head of the legal department, and I can’t say that I blame her. I certainly wasn’t very knowledgeable about her grandfather’s will or the estate…”

“That’s her problem,” Mitch stated blandly and again focused his attention on the bottom of his glass.

“It’s not Mrs. Anderson’s problem,” Erin corrected.

“Well, it certainly isn’t mine!”

“But the bank…”

“To hell with the bank” Mitch spat out and slammed his glass on the polished counter. Several of the patrons close by turned interested eyes on Erin and Mitch. Erin felt herself shrink. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.

“I don’t understand what’s gotten into you lately,” Erin began in a low whisper. “And I don’t know what Kane Webster has to do with you coming down here to drown your sorrows, but if there’s anything I can do—or if there’s something you want to talk about…”

“I don’t want to talk about anything! You’re the one who came looking for me,” he reminded her crossly. “I didn’t invite you!”

“I was worried about you.”