Pulling the RF detector from my pocket, I start a sweep of the room. Marie follows me with just her eyes, her arms folded across her chest.
“I really love this wallpaper,” I say as I’m scanning the pictures and the bowl of flowers on the small six-legged table. The small led lights show barely a flicker but I’m not convinced and keep sweeping the edge of the room, around the mouldings and the tops of the doors.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing here—”
“ — Sh.”
I hear her mouth snap shut and the air puff out her nostrils. Adorable.
The RF detector flashes once as I walk back to the small closet under the stairs, then flickers back off. Interesting.
“Alek, I don’t know what you—”
“Sh!”
“Fine!” She stomps out of the room, clearly fuming. I can’t even help but smile. She’s really pretty cute.
Following every wall, I sweep every corner and decorative object, every light fixture and all the heating vents. Something is here, I know it. When I enter the kitchen, Marie growls her disgust and tries to push past me, but I stop her with a hand.
“Shhhh,” I start.
“Yeah I know!” she snarls back. “You want me to—”
“No wait, I mean it,” I say, holding up a hand. “Listen… do you hear that?”
Adorably, she squints as though that’s going to improve her hearing. “What am I listening to?” she says in a low murmur.
“It’s like a hum, like you can barely hear it,” I whisper.
She listens for a few more seconds and then looks up at me with a startled expression. “Oh!”
“Yeah,” I nod. I sweep the antenna in the direction of the almost imperceptible sound. It’s coming from one arm of the chandelier. Reaching behind the bulb, I pluck a tiny black node from the fixture and hold it out to her, then drop it on the floor and stomp it into shards under my heel.
“What the fuck was that?” she stage whispers.
“That was a camera, Princess,” I tell her, and walk quickly out of the room. She follows right behind me, squeaking her objections.
“Hey stop! What the… Hey, what are you doing?”
I twist around, holding up a hand to hopefully get her to stop her chattering. She flinches back, her brow knitting together.
“Just pipe down,” I growl at her, hoping she gets the clue. Just as she’s about to bleat out another objection, I pull a small disk from behind the ornate picture frame over the fireplace.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, her eyes wide.
“Yeah, I don’t think He had anything to do with it. Any other guesses who did?”
She shakes her head fervently.
“Guess again, Princess…”
“No.”
I shrug. “Fine. Suit yourself,” I tell her and resume sweeping every surface I can find. Before I’m done, I have a small pile of cameras and listening devices in splinters in a baggie and I’m shaking it in front of her scowling face.
“Still no guesses?” I tease her.
Setting her jaw stubbornly, she shakes her head but I see the doubt in her eyes.
“So you have more surveillance equipment than a narc’s minivan and you have no clue as to why?”
“None,” she pouts.
“Yeah. Okay,” I sigh. If she’s just playing dumb, she’s really good at it. “So, where do you keep your purse?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just how do you think everybody and their hairy henchman knew you were at O’Hare, Marie?”
Her mouth opens but she stops, mute. Holding up one hand, she leaves for the hall closet and then comes right back with a very expensive handbag swinging from her finger. The RF meter lights up like a Christmas tree, and I see her eyes go dark.
“Don’t blame yourself, kiddo,” I tell her as I run my fingers along the seams and piping of her bag. It’s really nice and I’m hoping I won’t have to cut it into ribbons to find the tracking device. “If I was your father, I probably would have had you bugged and filmed and followed for your whole life too.”
She drags her lower lip between her teeth as I pluck the small, striped transmitter from the bottom of the front pocket and hold it up to the light for her. With trembling fingers, she takes it from me and stares at it fretfully.
“That’s sick,” she whispers.
“That’s life, Princess. Now snap it in half and drop it in the bag with the others.”
Pouting, she mangles it between her shiny, petal-pink nails and leaves it with the others. I feel sort of bad for her. This has really got to be a blow, finding out your dad had you on virtual lockdown your whole life. Then I hold out my hand.