“Jag knows his enemies.”He straightens and shuffles through the papers on the coffee table.“He would’ve been prepared for this, maybe even saw them coming.”
“His computer lair.”I wipe my face with my sleeve, heart squeezing painfully.“I asked him about it once, asked how he hacked private cameras and where he kept all his equipment.All he said wasblue princess.”
“Dove?”
“I guess?Knowing Jag, he would’ve installed more cameras,hiddencameras that feed into a hidden location.”
“The team did a camera sweep in both shops and didn’t find anything.”
“Let’s do another one.”I stand.“Maybe they missed something.”
An hour later, I stand in the tattoo shop, refusing to let myself think about what happened here.
Instead, I focus on the ceilings, corners, and angles Jag might’ve used.
Monty and Carl set up at the front counter, flanked by two of their best tech guys.Ex-NSA or some high-speed shit.
Theo, the tech with wire-frame glasses and zero personality, powers on his equipment as he explains RF spectrum analysis and frequency anomalies.The taller, meaner-looking tech, Ross, waves a sleek black scanner across the ceiling.
I leave them to their toys and run my hand along the drywall, tracing the edges of the fresh panels Jag installed.He built this room just for me.
Or did he build it to hide recording equipment that no one would find?
“No standard camera signatures so far.”Ross moves deeper into the shop.
“Considering we still haven’t cracked Jag’s firewall,” Theo says, “I doubt any of our equipment will detect his.”
“Jag doesn’t use standard.”Carl types on his laptop.“That means we’re not looking for what’s common.We’re looking for what’s off.”
“Off how?”I ask.
“Wrong paint match.A seam that runs too clean.A screw that isn’t factory issue.”Carl looks up from his screen.“If there’s a camera in here, it’s probably watching us.”
I hadn’t considered that.
For half a second, I imagine finding the lens, staring straight into it, and telling him to bring her back.
Then the thought evaporates.
If there is a hidden camera, Jag isn’t watching it.
Because he can’t.
I skim my hands along every inch of the newly constructed walls three times before I feel it.A slight dip under my fingertips.Too smooth.Too intentional.My brows draw tight.
“Here.”I rise on my toes and tap the spot.“Get a light on this.”
Theo steps in with a penlight, sweeping the beam across the seam where the wall meets the ceiling.
There’s a barely visible irregularity.A circle the size of a quarter that doesn’t match the rest of the surface.Not paint.Not putty.
“What is it?”Monty appears at my side.
“Sheetrock flaw?”Carl inches closer.
“No.That’s a cover.Look.”Theo removes a small tool and cuts around the dimple.“Camera lens is behind it.Wireless.”
“Hello, Satan’s Ring cam.”My heart pounds.“Can you trace it?Where does the feed go?”
