I was sitting on the couch a little after 2:00 a.m. Keith was asleep in the bedroom. The doctors had let him go home with a prescription for a lot of rest and a lot of fluids.

The nondehydrating kind.

How to blackmail someone had produced more than nine million results. I couldn’t believe the number of people out there who detailed exactly what was necessary to demand money from someone and get away with it. Some sites expressed that they were strictly designed for research; others stated that they in no way endorsed blackmail but wanted to provide the most comprehensive information about it. Why? Because that’s what people do on the internet.

Besides the how-to articles, I’d found lots of pieces detailing the difference between blackmail and extortion. It was reassuring to know that what I was planning to do wasn’t as bad as it could be. If anything, what I was doing could be called coercion.

The telephone and my silence in exchange for $180,000.

Hell, I’d call it a suggestion.

As I’d scanned through the pages, I tried to memorize as much as possible; there was no way I’d write any of it down. The articles all centered around a few key topics, which made it clear that there were three parts to a perfect blackmail.

One, I needed irrefutable proof of the deed.

In this case, the deed was Hooks’s affair with Emma.

I’d seen the way they had looked at each other through the night, felt the tension between them, even as they stared at each other from afar. I’d seen it with my own eyes, so I knew it was true, but I didn’t have proof. It had to be on the phone. Hooks’s reaction backstage made it clear that there was something on it he didn’t want me to see.

If only I could figure out how to access it.

Next, I needed to provide the subject (Hooks) with enough information for him to believe that I had the proof (whatever I found on the phone) and that I would be willing to give it over for the agreed-upon sum ($180,000). This meant that he had to believe that I wouldn’t still tell his secret after he gave me the money. That his pesky problem would go away for what, to him, would be a negligible amount of money.

And finally, I would need an untraceable way to actually get the money. In some ways, that would be the hardest part, but I decided not to worry about it until I got past the first two.

Once I had the proof and his agreement to pay the money, I would figure out the rest.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the phone. I pressed the Home button and saw that the battery was at 43 percent.

Shit.