Annie’s disappearance in light of this new information. Leaving town was one thing. Leaving town with an asthmatic five-year-old dependent on an experimental drug protocol was something entirely different. If Annie had fled, she must have really believed her life was in danger. She would have weighed the stress on a child of leaving school, his neighborhood, and everyone he knew against . . . survival.
“When did Annie disappear?” Caroline asked.
“Right after her boss died last month. Like two days later. She packed up some stuff for her and Nolan, and just . . . left.” Henrik’s eyes began to tear. He wiped the offending moisture away with the back of his hand. “If you find her, just remember to tell her that I’d like to talk.”
The big artist sat down at the dining room table and buried his face in his hands.
“I can’t believe this fucking happened to me,” he said, his big frame shaking with pent-up emotion, though he still would not allow himself to cry.
Caroline took a step toward him, her hand reaching for his shoulder.
“I’m sorry—”
“Please leave,” Henrik growled, jabbing one long finger at the door.
Without another word, Caroline slipped quietly out of the loft.
Frustration welled in Caroline’s chest.
Louis handed Caroline a ream of hand-marked pages. “As soon as my edits are in, I want our brief out the door. If it isn’t filed by four o’clock New York time today, the district court will bounce it. That gives you an hour.”
Caroline frowned. Of course she knew the deadline. The last few days had been laser focused on getting the brief filed. Ever since she’d gotten back from her unfruitful visit to Henrik’s loft, she’d been pushing hard to write the inferential reasoning section and get the Daubert brief filed. Louis’s last-minute rounds of edits to her argument had made her scramble, but she still had time to make the filing deadline.
“I’ll get it done,” she said, controlling her annoyance. She knew her reaction to her boss’s tone had more to do with her own failures than anything he’d said.
“I’m going to go to the club first thing tomorrow morning to look around. I’m not giving up on finding the article. The court will still accept scientific evidence until tomorrow afternoon,” she said.
“Fine,” Louis said, waving one hand. “It’s just a shame you failed to arrange to search that social club any sooner.”
Caroline’s face flushed. “I’ve done everything I could to get in there.” And she had. Leery of calling Yvonne, she had sent her a letter by overnight messenger, begging Yvonne to arrange for her to come to the club. She had just about given up hope of receiving a response when a short note had arrived at the office via snail mail. On a milky-white embossed card, the note stated only:
All set for BABC Oct. 6, 8:30 a.m.
She forced herself to take a breath. “We still have time. It isn’t too late.”
“Indeed,” Louis acquiesced. “And I do appreciate your commitment to this case.”
“Thanks, but my commitment to the case means nothing if I can’t find that article,” Caroline said quietly. She expected more of herself. So did Louis.
She stepped up to Louis’s desk, extending a piece of paper toward her boss. “This is the signature page for the brief. You can sign it now. Then, once I get your other edits in, Silvia’s standing by to scan the whole thing and upload it onto the district court’s e-filing system.”
But Louis didn’t take the page from her.
“You should do the honors,” he said instead.
Caroline’s chest warmed at the unexpected compliment, especially coming so soon on the heels of Louis’s disappointment in her inability to locate the missing article. She’d hoped to get her name on the Daubert brief as one of the lawyers working on the case. Being asked to sign, signifying that she was the author, was an honor.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t sign it,” she said. “You’re the only one with pro hac vice status, so you have to sign. The New York court won’t let anyone else appear without permission.”
“Very well,” Louis said, pulling a Montblanc pen from his penholder and twisting off the cap. He positioned the page on his ink blotter and scrawled his name in big looping letters, finished with a flourish.
He blew on the page to dry the ink before handing it back to Caroline.
Caroline looked thoughtfully down at the executed signature page.
“You know, since you have pro hac vice status, you could also argue the