“I wonder if he got the photos,” Amie murmured, flipping the message back over to look at the image on the back. “I didn’t see any in his apartment.”
“Have we considered that we’re living in the twenty-first century?” Ziya asked. “If Savannah—or Andrew—had the photos, they could just be on a phone or computer somewhere.”
“But how—” David snapped his fingers. “The printer.”
“Explain,” Amie requested.
David set his mug down on the coffee table, likely to avoid more absentminded tongue-burning. “How did the blackmailer even get access to the photos in the first place?” he asked. Then, answering his own question, he said, “The bookshop offers printing services.”
“Benny went to the bookshop to print the photos,” Amie said, following.
“More likely it was the woman he was seeing.” Ziya sat back into the couch. “Doesn’t seem like something a guy like Benny would do.”
“Plus,” Amie added, “this was the woman Benny was cheating on his girlfriend with. Why would he want any more physical evidence of that?”
“Good points all around,” David said. “So the woman he was seeing went to the bookshop to get the photos printed. Savannah recognized Benny in the photos, somehow knew that the woman wasn’t his girlfriend, and made extra copies for herself.”
“Or she showed them to Andrew, andhemade the copies,” Ziya added.
“If Benny wasn’t able to find physical photos to get rid of,” Amie said, “then he could still be looking for digital copies. We need to find these photos.”
“We need to turn this over to the police,” David corrected her.
“What?” Amie and Ziya exclaimed.
David threw his hands into the air. “Am I the only one who remembers Amie almostdyingtwenty minutes ago? The sleuthing needs to stop before it gets any more dangerous.”
“Comeon,” Amie pleaded. “You were just getting into it.”
“And now I’m getting out of it.” David picked up his mug, this time giving it a tentative sip before going for a bigger one.
“How is she supposed to explain to the police how she got this?” Ziya asked. “Breaking and entering is technically a crime, and last I checked, the cops don’t super love people who do those. Even if they’re done by someone trying to uncover a different,much worse crime. Unless that person is also a cop, which Amie is not.”
David waved his free hand. “Just say you found it in the dumpster or something.”
“The whole point of this was to try to get the police’s attention off of you,” Amie said, knowing this was a half-truth. “What’re they going to think if you pop up in the middle of their investigation again?”
“And that’s why I didn’t want to be involved in the first place!” David exclaimed, his tea threatening to spill over the edge of the mug. “You can bring the letter to the police and leave my name out of it.”
“And what if they fingerprint the letter?” Ziya asked.
Amie and David both looked at her questioningly.
“You think the blackmailer’s fingerprints would be on the letter?” Amie asked.
“No,” Ziya said, rolling her eyes. “Anyone with half a brain would wear gloves while handling a blackmail letter. That’s, like, Criminal 101. I’m talking aboutDavid’sfingerprints on the letter.”
Amie flashed back to the very recent memory of David picking up the paper to look at it.
“Oh, goddammit.” David rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Idiot.”
Ziya continued over David’s grumbling. “I’m pretty sure they’d see through the dumpster lie, anyway. No paper would come out of there without some mysterious substance on it.”
“Just give me a couple of days,” Amie said to David, who was sullenly sipping his tea. “If I can’t find anything else, we’ll take this to the police and try to keep your name out of it. Okay?”
David let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not going to sign off on any more dangerous snooping,” he said. “But you can have your couple of days.”
“Are your friends mad at you?” Amie asked as she and Ziya walked down the hallway.
