Chapter 6

"So what do you think?" Mike asked Welker. The man had the two cameras he'd removed, plus a hot spot in hand.

"I won't know until I run the serial numbers where they came from, but these babies are pretty pro. If I were a guessing man, which I am, I'd say they almost look like government issue."

"Seriously? You mean like…the IRS is stalking me?" Mike joked, even though anybody watching him was no laughing matter.

"Not the IRS, but maybe the FBI, CIA, NSA, DEA, DOD…"

"Damn. Seriously? That's a list I don't want to be on," Mike grimaced. "Will you be able to tell which agency it is once you've run them?"

Welker looked apologetic. "Most likely, no. A lot of times, after equipment is designated for a specific location, access to the serial numbers is redacted in case it's found. So we may not be able to tell who set these up. But," he cautioned, "it's also not necessarily the government who's using them. Someone with connections could have stolen the equipment, or could be using it without authorization."

"Well, shit," Mike swore. "Then I'm guessing we won't know much more even after you run the numbers."

"Probably not," Welk said again, then shook his head before sending Mike a shrewd look. "Now, not to change the subject, but… What did you want to tell me over the phone that you couldn't, because your kids were listening?"

Which they weren't right now.

Mike tapped his fingers nervously on his thigh. "You caught that, huh?"

Welker snorted. "It was pretty obvious. So spill."

"It might be nothing, but…well, it could be related to those." He gestured to the cameras. "Over the past few days, I've felt like someone's been watching me."

"Uh, no shit." Welker raised the hand holding the spy-cams, and waved them around.

"No. I mean, not just here. Everywhere. At the gym. At the grocery store. Just…all over the place. Earlier, I think my truck was followed." He pulled out his phone and quickly saw that the video he'd taken was beyond useless. He stabbed Welker with a worried stare. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

Welker quickly shook his head. "Even if you hadn't found these babies, I'd believe you. I've been in enough situations where the roiling in my gut has saved me, so I'm not dismissing your feelings."

Welker Vestore, Mike knew, had been a Navy Seal prior to taking a job with the BPD and SWAT. His opinion mattered to Mike, and made him feel less paranoid.

"So what now?" Mike asked. He wasn't pleased with the timing of the SWAT team's away drills this weekend; not knowing who was responsible for the cameras. He hated leaving his house empty.

But Mike couldn't exactly excuse himself from the exercises for something that might be a harmless prank.

Then again, what if it was an old enemy? Or… Shit. A voyeur with some kind of fixation on him or his kids? The fact that the surveillance had been positioned to show his bedroom, as well as those of his children, made Mike wonder, as well as see red.

Welker answered Mike's question. "Now I find out where these came from, if I can, and you proceed from here as if you're being watched at all times." Welker turned knowledgeable eyes toward his. "Have you swept the rest of the property for cameras? The interior and exterior of your house for bugs? Have you checked your truck and your daughter's car for tracking devices?"

"No to all of it," Mike told him. "The minute I found these I called you, figuring we'd do a deeper dive once you took care of the known situation."

"Okay. Let me get my equipment out of my truck, and we'll scope everything out."

"Thanks, Welk. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Welker shrugged and clapped Mike heartily on the back. "I think you would have figured it out."

It took over an hour—Welker and Mike being followed closely by Mike's inquisitive kids this time—to ascertain there were no additional cameras inside or outside the house. And no bugs. Which made Mike feel a little better. The cameras were creepy enough, but at least no one had been listening in on his family.

Dilly's vehicle was also clear, but the minute Welker began scanning the chassis of Mike's seen-better-days truck, a blaring alarm sounded.

"Bingo," Welker said. "It looks like we have a tracker." He went low, then pointed to the underside of the rear chassis.

Mike dropped to the ground, and using his cellphone's flashlight, quickly spotted the little bogey. "Got it."

He reached out a hand to pluck it off, but then…

"Stuck?" Welker asked from above.

"Nope." Mike slid out from under his car and looked up at his three-person audience. "What do you think about me leaving it there?" he asked.

"Dad!" His son, Tim, was the first to complain. "That's dangerous. You want someone to know where you are all the time?"

Welker, however, was nodding, as was Dilly.

"Duh," Dilly turned to her brother and gave him a superior look. "How else is he going to catch whoever's stalking him?"

"Dilly's right," Welker agreed, then focused on Mike. "This will almost certainly lure whoever it is to your position. If you think you can remain vigilant enough to catch them, night or day, no matter what you're in the middle of, then leave it in place."

Mike thought for a moment. "What if we set up some surveillance of our own around my house? Something that will alert me if anybody gets close?

Welker grinned. "Now you're talking. How many times have I told you that you need some kind of security out here in the boonies?"

Mike grunted. There was no need to let Welker know he'd been right. The man had a fairly healthy ego as it was. "Yeah, well, I haven't had any problems until now." Mike thought out what he might need. "Maybe a couple cameras on the driveway, and one that encompasses the entire back yard? That ought to cover things, don't you think?"

"I like it," Welker replied. "I'll get on it right away so it will be done before we leave for the quarries tomorrow. I'll just run home, grab what I need, and come back. As soon as I have the stuff activated, I'll have you download the apps so you can access everything."

"That'll be great," Mike said, feeling a little better now about leaving his property unattended.

"Wait." Welker turned back after he'd taken a few steps away. "What about your truck? Do you want something on it, as well?" the man asked. "Not a camera, because it's hard to hide any unit on a vehicle where people won't see it. I was thinking more along the lines of a motion detector. If someone so much as puts a finger on your truck and jiggles it, it will alert to your phone."

"Damn, you have the gadgets, Welk," Mike praised. "Absolutely. Do it."

Dilly, who had been listening avidly, spoke up. "Uh, Dad? Don't say no before you think about it, but are you sure I can't stay home over the weekend and keep an eye out? With all the spy stuff being put up, I should be safe, and I'm not helpless."

Yeah. No.Mike had made sure both his kids had self-defense training, but that was beside the point. Mike knew Dill was seeing herself as the hero, catching any trespassers who might show up. And…hell, no. The thought was enough to give him hives. "Absolutely not," he barked. "You and Tim will be leaving for Gram and Gramp's tonight."

"Spoilsport." Dilly huffed under her breath but still loud enough for Mike to hear. "I knew you'd say that," she grumbled.

Yup.She was a sassy one.

"Spoilsport," Mike repeated. "That's me. The man who wants to keep his children safe, and uninvolved in anything that seems even remotely sketchy."

Tim nodded, clearly agreeing wholeheartedly, but Dilly still didn't look convinced.

"Whatever," she glowered, then flounced into the house.

Damn.Mike was going to have to put his parents on high alert to keep a close watch on his daughter. If she did go against the rules and come back to the house, once the cameras were up and running, Mike would get a notification the minute she stepped foot on the property. He'd then call his father to come collar her, and…she'd be grounded for a month.

Ignoring the small tantrum, Mike thanked Welker profusely, telling him there'd be piccata for him after he returned with his tech-goodies and had things installed. Mike then placed an affectionate hand on the back of Tim's neck, guiding him back toward the house.

"I'm really starving, Dad," Tim, the bottomless pit complained. "How long before supper?"

Mike snorted. He liked how easily his son returned to normal.

"Give me half an hour."

Two hours later,the kids had been fed and were in their rooms packing.

Welker, standing at the counter, scoffed down the leftovers, having completed his work for the evening. "This food is terrific. You cooked it?" He looked around as if just considering something. "Hey. Where's your wife? I haven't seen her tonight."

"Uh, she's, um, taking some…courses out of state right now."

"Courses?"

Fuck,Mike hated to lie. Once someone went down that road, it never went well trying to keep track of exactly what you'd told to whom, so Mike made up his mind on the spot and bit the bullet.

"Actually, no. That's not true." He swallowed around the big lump of trepidation in his throat. "Mellie walked out on us about eleven months ago."

Welker look shocked, then saddened. "Shit, man. I'm sorry. And my bad for bringing it up." He didn't leave it alone, however. His eyes narrowed. "Does anybody on the team know?"

Mike grumbled. "Nobody knows except my family, and now you."

"That really sucks." Welk paused for a moment, chewing. "You want me to keep my mouth shut?"

"If you could," Mike acknowledged with a sigh. "Now that I've actually managed to say it to you, I guess I'll find a way to tell everyone else this weekend."

"You know, nobody's going to be all that surprised," Welker speculated. "We all kind of wondered what's been going on, especially when Melanie didn't show up on your arm for the last four weddings. There was definitely speculation going around."

"I figured as much. But there are details…" Mike huffed. "Listen. Can we drop this for now? I'll give you and the team all the deets tomorrow after we've had our day."

"Sure. No problem." Welker forked up another bite and shoveled it into his mouth. "Damn. If I'd known what a good cook you were," the man told Mike, "I would have made excuses to visit you more often. Bachelorhood obviously agrees with you."

Mike laughed, not calling Welk out on bringing his single status up again, but instead, he clarified his meager talents. "My repertoire isn't huge. I do a mean red sauce, this piccata, and burgers, dogs, and steaks on the grill. Other than that, it's frozen or take-out."

"Better than I can do," Welker stated, smacking his lips over the last bite. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Now back to business. Give me your phone, and I'll get you set up with your new undercover software." He wiggled his fingers at Mike.

Mike pushed his phone across the counter to Welker, and the man's hands flew over the screen. Within seconds, he was sending the device back Mike's way.

"That's it?"

"Yup. I put the two new icons on your home screen. One is for the cameras; the other is your movement detector."

Mike looked, and saw two new symbols on his phone. He clicked the first—the camera feed—which gave him three views to choose from. Welk had named them. One was called "street end", and was positioned at the inception of his driveway, "house end" had been placed at the gravel egress just before the tree-line gave way to his yard, and "back 40", was some kind of panoramic deal that encompassed his entire rear acreage.

"That's very cool, Welk," he praised.

Welker got up and jogged toward the back door. "You think that's good? Now I'm going to go breathe on your truck and see how you like it." He disappeared into the night, and not twenty seconds later, Mike's phone sounded an alarm.

With a camera, he could see Welk disturbing his vehicle, but the alert itself was enough. In the future, the sound would give Mike enough warning to arm himself and covertly check out any disturbance.

Cool.

"How'd it do?" Welker asked, coming back into the kitchen.

"Awesome," Mike said. "But what about when I'm the one getting into my truck? I don't want to set the thing off every time my ass plants into the seat."

Welker took Mike's phone again, hit the icon, and showed Mike a disable tab. "This turns the alarm on and off. If you or someone you know is using your truck, deactivate it. You just have to remember to reset it every time you leave your vehicle."

"I can do that."

Mike was, if anything, vigilant. "Listen, Welk, I can't thank you enough. And now that you've exhausted yourself for me, you should get home and hit the hay. Remember, we're slated to meet in Frankfort at 0600 hours."

Welker snorted. "Says the old man."

"Huh?" Mike looked at Welker with narrowed eyes. Was his buddy calling him ancient?

"It's only nine, LT," Welker teased. "The night is young."

Well, shit.Welkwas nearly ten years Mike's junior. But was it those years, or was it Mike's self-imposed, hermit-crab-emulation that had him hiding from real life? Mike guessed the latter. And didn't that suck.

"That means you're going out?" Mike asked, trying not to purse his lips.

"Indeed I am, my man. I have a sweet hook-up waiting for me…" Welk looked at his watch. "…in twenty minutes, so I gotta fly." He gave a sarcastic salute spinning on his heel to go, then just as abruptly stopped and turned back to Mike. "You wanna come with me? My lady might have a friend."

"No thanks. Not tonight. Have fun," Mike said, and tried not to say it begrudgingly. It wasn't Welker's fault Mike had no interest in women these days.

The door closed behind his friend before Mike gave a mental amendment to what he'd just thought. He had no interest in women other than a certain blonde who'd intrigued the hell out of him this morning at the gym. And clearly that would go nowhere because… Right. Leave it to Mike's libido to spike after a year's hiatus for a stranger who was a tourist in town.

Mike grumbled under his breath, but cut himself a little slack as he finished cleaning up the kitchen. Maybe the attraction he'd felt this morning was a good thing. It might mean his sexual appetite was coming back on line.

Or maybe the urge earlier had been a one-and-done.

Whatever. He needed to…

Dammit. Not an anomaly, then. Mike's dick, thinking about the mystery woman, was rising to the occasion once again. But now was not the time. He needed to get his shit under control ASAP, to be wood-free while driving the kids to their grandparents before he called it a night. Which meant there'd be no time for self-relief until he came home to his solitary bed.

A bed that reminded him of Mellie.

And…

Wah, wah, wah. Instant shrinkage.

Nothing killed a cock-stand faster than thoughts of his ex-wife.