“We could be having dinner. I’m starving.” She started walking down the side street toward the busier avenues. Selina followed. “And I suppose we could think of something else. Fallback plans. Contingency plans. Television! All the stations here have muckrakers. They’d love to get their teeth in a story like this. If Tim can’t do anything, we could take the photos to one of the TV stations. It’d be great on TV. Of course, we’d have to break in again—with the camcorder. You’ve got to have tape—“
Selina took note of the steady stream of pedestrians on the avenue sidewalks. She wanted to hear what Bonnie had to say, but half the world would be able to eavesdrop on their conspiracy in another thirty yards.
“Yeah, let’s have dinner,” she interrupted. “Inside, at your place. We can talk there. Not while we’re walking—okay?”
Bonnie agreed, and they got a bucket of flavor-of-the-month chicken wings from an establishment that didn’t bear closer examination. While Bonnie clattered about in the darkroom looking for plates and napkins—“It’s bad enough we’ve bought a bucket that can’t be recycled,” Bonnie said. “We don’t have to compound the problem with paper plates and napkins”—Selina looked for the photographs in the canvas bag. She had to remove the newspaper first, and noticed the inked-in crossword puzzle—further proof, if any was needed, that she and Bonnie had nothing in common. She was about to toss it aside when an address caught her eye: 208 Broad Street. Unfolding the paper, she began to read.