His eyes crinkle a little when he gives me what seems like a forced smile. I splay my hand over my heart in a show of gratitude I hope he understands. He closes the last bit of distance between us, and my breath catches when he wraps his arm around my back, lining our bodies up perfectly as he leans down and says, “Hi.”
I nod in response. I’m not sure what my voice would sound like if I could reply verbally.
“Any problems?” His lips touch my ear lobe, and I have to stiffen my body to keep from shivering. This time, I shake my head in denial. “Good, let’s go upstairs.”
Warmth floods my lower belly. I know his words are not an invitation to head to my bedroom for pleasure or anything of the like, but my body doesn’t seem to make that distinction.
I don’t make any attempt to move until Boone removes his hand from my back and takes a step away from me. I immediately miss the heat of his body and the closeness. It’s been far too long since I’ve allowed anyone to touch me like this,and I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel this way when they did.
I run a hand over my hair, trying to gain some semblance of decorum while reminding myself now is not the time to let my hormones wreak havoc on my already heightened emotions. I don’t meet Boone’s eyes while I muster up the strength to head toward the stairway. I’m certain he would see right through me. In the back of my mind, I’m thinking about how unfair all this is to him and me. I’m setting my expectations too high, allowing my feelings and emotions to get tangled up where he’s concerned. It’s too much pressure for anyone. My grandad would say I was putting the cart before the horse, and he would have been right.
Life is so unfair.
With fresh determination, I ascend the stairs. I know I won’t be able to shut my feelings off, but I can at least try to dampen them.
When I stop on the first landing, waiting for his direction, he motions for me to continue up to the next level. I’ve avoided that space since this morning, and I’m still not looking forward to it, but it is easier knowing I’m not alone.
Just as I’m about to lift my foot to climb the last step, Boone grabs my hand, freezing me in place. I turn to look down at him, and he extends the box in his hand to me. “If there are cameras, this is where they would be.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, hating how even after all my precautions and suspicions, I still didn’t do enough to protect myself. “What do I do?”
“This device is designed to pick up radio signals, anything that gets transmitted. Unplug the TV and anything else that could be connected to Wi-Fi, then move it around the room. Watch the light.” His voice is only a whisper of sound, but I don’t have any problem hearing him.
“Red is bad?” I guess.
“Red is bad, but it doesn’t mean it’s a camera. It could be an audio bug or a tracker.”
Not surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better. “What do I do if it goes red?”
“Narrow down where it’s coming from and look for any signs that it could be a camera, like a hole where a lens could be. Use the flashlight on your phone to see the glass refraction.”
I nod while staring down at the safe green glow coming from the device. “You’re going to wait here?”
His fingers tighten on mine. “I’m mitigating my chance at detection. I don’t think he had enough time or access to this place to fully fit it out with surveillance. Like I said, if there are cameras, my gut tells me they would be where you sleep, which is why I wanted to start here.”
“I can do this,” I say to myself, but Boone reassures me, “You can,” before releasing my fingers.
Taking his advice to heart, I head toward the TV mounted on the wall. The only problem is, I don’t see any cords, let alone a plug. The little dial on the device jumps up when I get closer and just remains in the green. I put the side of my head to the wall to look behind the flatscreen, but I still don’t see any cords. I point the box right at the television, and the dial stays green. I glance over at Boone, debating on whether or not I should go tell him or move on. When he gestures for me with his fingers, I take it as a sign to continue.
I make a full lap around the room, waving my arm up and down, and the light remains mostly flat. The heavy feeling of dread abates, and I grow more confident. “It’s still green,” I whisper from across the room.
He shushes me with his finger to his lips but walks in to join me. When he’s just a few feet away, he points at the bathroom door and adjoining closet. My nose crinkles, but I push the doorthe rest of the way open and squint at the light before running my fingers over the switch to plunge the room into darkness.
The moonlight streaming in from the wall of windows doesn’t quite reach this space, and my eyes have to readjust to the darkness. The sound of my breathing seems to echo in the smaller area, and I find myself holding my breath while I direct the box around the room.
I gasp when the light jumps to yellow when I pass the sink. I jerk my hand back over the same path, and it blinks yellow again when I get close to my toothbrush. “Oh hell.” I relax, realizing the damn thing is Bluetooth enabled. To be sure it isn’t something else triggering it, I move the toothbrush and the stand while keeping the box trained in the same spot, and the light returns to green.
“Remind me to get a new toothbrush,” I whisper harshly, wishing I could throw the damn thing in the garbage right now for the hassle. The line stays in the low green field while I explore the rest of the bathroom, but the moment I cross the threshold into the closet, it jumps to yellow. “Uh-oh,” I mutter, looking around for any obvious tells, like a blinking red light in the ceiling vent, and find nothing. There isn’t a mirror that could hide a camera or strange hole in the wall, so what could it be?
I sense more than hear Boone’s presence near the door. I lift the box to show him the indicator light glowing a steady yellow. He mouths a word, but I can’t make it out. He must read the confusion on my face, because he leans in close and whispers, “Tracker,” near my ear.
That should be the least of my worries, because a camera would be so much worse, but it still feels like a huge violation. An edge of anger nips at the fear, giving me something to cling to besides the terror.
The yellow field grows when I move to the left, then it drops again, only to go into red for the first time when I move it tothe right. Boone steps up behind me, taking the device from my hand and moving it around. He motions for me to stay quiet with his finger to his lips and begins passing it over my clothes, shoes, and a few of the bags I brought with me.
In only a few moments, it becomes clear that the highest indicator is likely coming from my bags. Boone picks them up one by one, separating each item until he has a small pile of things that are making the light glow red. While crouched, he carefully runs his hands over each item before moving on to the next. I’m not sure if he found what he was looking for, but eventually, he stands and makes one final pass around the closet before motioning for me to step out.
I keep looking over my shoulder until I make it back into my room with him behind me. “I’m going to need to open those things up to confirm my suspicions.” His voice is still low, but he’s not whispering.
