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O'Shea," Melanie sniffed. "I've needed to do that ever since Ken . . . ever since he . . . did what he did. I can't understand it." She shook her head sadly, staring bleakly into Erin's face.
    "Please call me Erin."
    "Are you really Ken's sister?" the woman/child asked hopefully.
    "As positive as I can be under the circumstances," Erin answered honestly.
    "You look like him," Melanie said, looking closely at Erin's face.
    "Really?" Erin said with a laugh, delighted at the prospect. "Do you have any pictures of him?"
    "Sure. Lots." Melanie bounced off the couch, tears and remorse forgotten temporarily, and opened a drawer in the desk—the desk that Lance Barrett had so negligently leaned against, Erin thought inconsequentially, and hated herself for allowing thoughts of him to enter her mind.
    "Here are our wedding pictures," Melanie said.
    "How long have you been married?" Hadn't she asked Lance that question? He had given her an evasive answer.
    "Four years," Melanie replied as she flopped down beside Erin on the couch and opened a large white padded volume. "Here he is."
    Slowly Erin took the photograph album out of Melanie's hands and lifted it toward her. She was unaccount-ably nervous as she lowered her eyes to the smiling man in the picture.
    His image began to blur as her eyes filled with tears and impatiently she wiped them away in order to see him better. He was tall, towering over his bride who looked up at him with worshipful eyes. His hair was as dark as Erin's, though it hadn't been treated to the soft body permanent that hers had, and was combed back straight from his face. The eyes were an unmistakable family trait.
    His brows arched over his deep ebony eyes exactly as hers did. His mouth was less full, the lips more narrow, but the resemblance between them was striking.
    "He's very handsome, isn't he?" Erin asked hoarsely.
    Her throat was clogged with emotion.
    "Yes," agreed Melanie. "I fell in love with him the first time I walked in the bank and saw him behind the teller's counter. I asked Daddy who the new employee was, but he didn't know his name. I made it my business to find out, though!"
    "Your father works at the same bank that Ken does?"
    "He's the president and chairman of the board," Melanie commented absently as she turned the pages of the album.
    Erin digested this piece of news as she nodded appreciatively while Melanie pointed out other pictures of Ken.
    Erin would look at them more closely later in private.
    Something about Melanie's father being such a top-ranking officer in the bank where her brother was employed bothered her. Would it have bothered Ken as well? Could that be the reason he had embezzled the money?
    "Forgive me for being so nosy, Melanie. I want to learn as much about my brother as possible. You're several years younger then he, aren't you?"
    "Yes," she admitted, lowering her eyes. "He's ten years older than I am. I was only twenty when we got married.
    Mother and Daddy had a fit when we announced our plans to them. We had been dating secretly. I think I knew all along that they wouldn't be too happy with me for dating Ken. They wanted me to date the sons of their friends who play tennis and golf at the country club every day and go sailing on the weekends. I just wasn't interested in anybody. I fell in love the first time Ken kissed me and then begged my forgiveness for doing so." Her brown eyes were twinkling when she added, "I assured him, I didn't mind."
    But your parents did, thought Erin.
    There was a light tap on the door before it opened and Lance walked in. "What would you ladies like for dinner?
    I thought I'd go out for Chinese food if that's okay with everybody."
    Erin couldn't believe his insensitivity. He was treating this bizarre situation like it was a family picnic.
    "Chinese food sounds great to me," Melanie said happily. "Do you like it, Erin? If not, we can order something else."
    "I thought prisoners were restricted to a diet of bread and water," she said