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“Who was she blackmailing?”

“There’s no evidence she was blackmailing anyone. She was financially strapped. The only checks she deposited were from Unemployment and the rent money from Dylan. Without Dylan’s help, she couldn’t have afforded to continue to live on the island.”

“Hmm.” Ellery considered this new lead. Once a blackmailer, always a blackmailer? If so, September AKA Sybil didn’t appear to be very good at it. “It turns out I have information that could be useful toyourcase. According to Jane, September knew Lara from back in the day. Jane was a little vague on the details, but it seems September claimed that at one time she had performed with Lara.”

“What did Lara say to that?”

Ellery scratched his nose. “To be perfectly honest, I sort of forgot Jane told me that until just this minute.”

Jack blinked. “Youforgot?”

“It’s not like a do this for a living. The last couple of days have been kind of a lot.”

“Right. Is there anything else potentially helpful to my case you might have forgot?”

“If I remember I’ll let you know.”

Jack stared at him without blinking.

“I’m kidding,” Ellery said. “Obvi.”

Jack shook his head.

A thought occurred to Ellery. “Were there any fingerprints at the scene.”

Jack regarded him, then said dryly, “Tons of latent fingerprints. I assume you mean usable prints?”

“Right.”

“Not so far. The crime lab is still processing, seeing if they can come up with something that could be run through AFIS.”

PICO PD did not have its own crime lab. When it came to forensics, they were dependent on the mainland.

“Okay.”

Jack sighed. “If we come up with anything, I’ll let you know.” His gaze dropped automatically to the newspaper on his desk.

Ellery said, “Just one more thing.”

Jack looked up. He raised his brows. “Yep?”

“Will I see you later?”

Jack’s mouth twitched into a half-smile; his eyes softened. “Of course.”

Ellery leaned over the desk, brushed Jack’s mouth with his own, and went out, carefully closing the door.

Chapter Nineteen

Dylan and Janet were still in their bathrobes, having breakfast when Ellery arrived at Janet’s cottage shortly after leaving the police station.

It was barely eleven o’clock. Ellery accepted coffee, declined a slice of Quiche Lorraine, and sank into a pillowy chair cushion in the cozy living room.

Ellery’s relationship with Janet had been rocky to start with, but over the past months they had grown more cordial. He sort of liked her acerbic wit—when it wasn’t directed at him—and she was averygood Scrabble player, so high praise indeed. He’d never been able to quite figure out Janet’s relationship with Dylan. They were clearly good friends. At one time, he’d suspected they were more than friends, but Dylan always denied it, and Janet had most recently been dating Tom Tulley, owner and proprietor of the Salty Dog.

That said, they were cozy as two peas in a pod that morning, sitting beside each other on Janet’s cabbage rose floral chintz sofa. Dylan still looked tired and pale, but he was not nearly as haggard as he’d been the previous day.

Very possibly Sue Lewis’s fierce defense of him in her editorial for theScuttlebutt Weeklyhad provided some comfort. The paper was lying open on the coffee table.