as Caroline pegged them, played out like a choreographed Broadway number. Jerome performed a little shuffle when he asked if I’d prepped my client for Monday’s press interviews. “Naturally,” Samuel smoothly covered for me, though we hadn’t glanced at the talking points. A cadre of dancers figuratively swooped on-stage when we grimaced over Caroline’s stack of affidavits, including the indie singer, several of his grad school colleagues, and the cocaine-coated brunette who haunted my dreams. Thankfully, Indigo Kingsley’s people told Caroline to piss off.But Jerome stole the spotlight in a thundering finale when he unveiled a fresh copy of Togsy’s book.“I understand you were forced to obtain the book yourself, Ms. Trilby.” Reptilian fingers slithered over the binding. “I sincerely apologize for the delay.”I flipped through the pages. It was identical to the copy I’d swindled from Berkshire House. Dang it, I’d hoped to catch him in the act. I was absolutely certain they’d been planning to tweak the hell out of the thing and cast Caroline as Hitler, but now there was no way to prove it.
