“Not that.” David pulled the glass away, as if he didn’t want her pity acceptance of the beverage. “Your infiltration plan.”
“Myplan?” Amie exclaimed, dismayed. “That wasyourplan!”
David pointed up at the balconies Amie had just scaled across. “Spider-Amie wasn’t anywhere inmyplan.”
“You were supposed to give me ten minutes! What happened to my ten minutes?”
“This one”—David pointed accusingly at Ziya—“distracted me with the doorbell. When—”
“You know the name tag next to your apartment number says ‘Garfield’?” Ziya interrupted. “I almost didn’t ring the bell.”
“Good, that is by design,” David answered. “I don’t need strangers on the street knowing my apartment numberandmy last name.”
“Only that he really hates Mondays,” Amie deadpanned.
“Oh, great, a clever quip. At least we know you’re probably not concussed.” David gestured to Ziya again. “When I went to buzz her up, Benny finished with the traps and slipped past me.”
“Well, you did a really good job keeping him occupied in his apartment while I figured out my escape plan,” Amie said gratefully. “So thank you for that.”
“Eh.” David waved a hand dismissively, his curmudgeon act losing steam after being shown genuine appreciation. “Glad you’re safe, kid.”
The trio migrated inside.
“That might not have been a complete waste of time,” Amie said, settling onto the couch. “I heard Benny leaving a message for his ex-girlfriend when I was hiding under the bed. I think I might’ve met her on Monday.”
“And met her and met her and met her?” David asked from the kitchen.
Ziya looked at David with a curious expression, like she couldn’t determine if he was joking or not.
“I think she was on her way to Benny’s,” Amie continued, ignoring the question. “I also found this.”
She began extracting the pieces of paper from her pocket, placing them down on David’s coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ziya stand and walk over, moving a plastic container of Matchbox cars off the table and onto the floor to make room.
“These were in Benny’s wastebasket,” Amie explained, once again putting the pieces together photo-side up. “At first I thought it was him and his girlfriend, but then I heard him mention Hallie on the phone, and this isn’t Hallie. At least, not the one I know. His ex-girlfriend could be a different Hallie, but—”
“Seems like too much of a coincidence,” Ziya finished. She made to return to her seat, but David had slipped past her and commandeered the chair.
“I need to tape these together,” Amie murmured as Ziya sat down next to her.
“Here.” David reached over the arm of his chair, grabbing a small cardboard box. He fished out a roll of tape and tossed it to Amie.
“Thanks.” With Ziya’s help, she began taping the pieces together.
“Do you think she’s the other woman?” David suggested. “Maybe Hallie found the photo and ripped it up out of anger.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Amie agreed, accepting a piece of tape that Ziya handed to her. “When I saw Benny on Monday night, he said his girlfriend had just broken up with him. Hallie had told me just a few hours before then that she was on her way to her boyfriend’s place to surprise him with dinner.”
“So that’s probably when she caught him cheating!” Ziya exclaimed as Amie taped together the last two pieces.
“This is all very interesting,” David said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure Elena would be thrilled by this gossip. But Amie went in there looking for something that might explain why Benny was in the Harlows’ apartment, or at least something that might show that he had a motive for killing Savannah. I hate to be a killjoy, but based on all of this, the only thing Benny seems guilty of is being an asshole. And we already knew that.”
Amie had flipped over the mended paper, revealing the message printed on the opposite side.
“There might be more to Benny than we thought,” she said, scanning the note as Ziya scooched closer. David stood and circled the couch to read the message over their shoulders:
Benny—
I haven’t forgotten about you. Here’s something to motivate you to keep our arrangement going, or this and the other photos will be sent to Hallie. And keep an eye on your mailbox—the terms may be changing soon.
