CHAPTER NINE
The arrival of midnight found them both crammed in a closet, Ilse sitting on the desk. She watched where Sawyer reclined in his chair. The rest of the office was quiet. Most of the workers had gone home for the night. The n***d bulb above Tom's desk glowed angry yellow across the lacquered surface of the furniture below. Ilse was staring over Sawyer's shoulder where he sat, half twisted, angling the desktop screen so she could see.
The case files were messy, and Sawyer was still grumbling, trying to sort through the faxed and scanned photos from decade-old reports.
"Didn't they have a damn filing system ten years ago?" Sawyer was muttering. “This is ridiculous."
Ilse was sitting on the edge of the desk. She glanced at her dumb phone. Technically it was the next day. The di
