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Authors: Don Bruns

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BOOK: Stuff to Spy For
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Of course, with a loud-mouthed roommate I didn’t have to say a word.

I saw Em shoot James a very dirty look, complete with frown, slanted eyebrows, and a squint. I’m sure she was thinking about her statement that James had an idiot image. I couldn’t argue with that.

“Fill me in, guys.” Jody came around from the back of the
counter. “I’d be happy to take the case, but if you want to do it, I can make some serious recommendations regarding the equipment you may need. We’ve got state-of-the art equipment here. State-of-the-art.”

“Jody, despite what James may have told you, we don’t have a clue what this woman wants. She told me that she would give me instructions when the time came.”

Jody walked to the center of the showroom and pointed to the ceiling. “Those are sprinkler heads.”

They were.

“That one, that one, and not that one.” The third was the same as the other two.

“And what is that third head?” Em looked puzzled.

“A camera.”

“No.” Em was amazed.

“Come here.” He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to a TV monitor on the wall. There were twelve different scenes represented on one plasma screen. James and I stood under the heads.

“Jody,” Em stepped to the right, removing his arm, “how does this work?”

“Right here.” He pointed to one of the scenes.

“Oh, my God.” She spun around and starred at me. “You and James are in the shot, perfectly clear.”

Good gadget.

“Skip, you should see this.”

If I walked to the monitor, I wouldn’t be in the picture.

“There are twelve cameras in this showroom.” Jody spread his arms. “You are being viewed from every angle.”

I walked to the screen. It was unbelievable. James stood in the center of the room, viewed from every camera. “Dude, I can see you from twelve different positions.”

“Doggie is my favorite, Skip.”

We all ignored his comment.

“So, Jody, what are you suggesting?”

He patted Em on the back as she took three steps from him.

“Nothing yet. You get an idea of what this lady, the owner’s daughter, needs and you call me, Skip. I mean, I could sell you a couple of portable cameras, voice recorders, and stuff like that, but until you have an idea of what this lady wants—well, you just stay in touch.”

It was a plan.

“We’re going to need some voice-detecting equipment.” James was now walking around the room, touching the different items. “Like this.” He pointed to a plastic power strip.

“Good choice, my man. You can plug in any appliance, lamp, whatever, and this baby will work just like it should. The microphone inside will pick up all the conversation in the room. Crystal clear. You can have your transmitter in the truck, at work, in your home, and attached to a recording device.”

“And, of course, you’ve got the recording device as well.” Em picked up the small power strip and shook her head in disbelief.

“And what’s this?” James was pointing to one of the motion detectors mounted in the corner.

“Tell him, Skip.”

“It’s a,” I knew I’d be wrong, “motion detector. We install them for security systems. It detects motion in the room. You can set the sensitivity level from low to high. That’s what it is, right?”

“Meant to look like a motion detector, Skip.” Jody smiled and walked to Em. “It’s a camera, folks. See scene two on the monitor?” He laid his hand on her shoulder. She removed it.

“Jody.” I should have explained the ground rules before we set foot in his store.

He spun around. “Skip.”

“Um, the GPS. It’s really that simple?”

“You’ve got to change the battery. Every couple of days,
you’ve got to go to the vehicle and change the unit. Or the battery.”

“So, if you don’t change the battery—” James had wandered back to the counter.

“You lose the signal, James.”

“Middle of the day, night, early morning, you have to take the unit off the gas tank and replace it?”

“You’ve got it.” Jody picked up the gray box and held it in his right hand. “You just slide under the vehicle and switch it out. Shouldn’t take over thirty seconds.”

“Hey, Jody.”

“Yeah, Skip?”

“I really appreciate the fact that you’re giving us this prep course on doing some investigation.”

“Thanks, man.”

“However—”

“However what?”

“Em and I are dating. We’re a couple. I guess what I’m saying is, we have a really good relationship, and I need to tell you that.”

He raised his arm in mock defense. “Jeez, I wish you’d said something. I mean—I wasn’t coming on or anything. I’m not that kind of—well, I’m a friendly guy. What can I say?” A muscular, handsome, friendly guy who had the nickname of Macho Jody. And I needed to address that.

I’d taken a stand. Hopefully, she would realize that I loved her. Hopefully, she’d realize that the thing with Sarah was a job. A damned good-paying job, but nevertheless a job. I thought Sarah was hot, and I was intrigued with the hooker angle, but I really cared for Em. And I hoped this proved it. Maybe she’d thank me. Miracles do happen.

“Skip?

“Yeah.”

He smiled at Em as she walked over to me. “It’s just that, I don’t know, that I never would have pictured the two of you. I mean, forgive me for saying this please, but—”

“But what?”

“Well, I only knew her when we were in school,” he nodded to Em. She gave him a cold stare and nodded back. “But, man, she used to be so far out of your league.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“He’s sleazy.”

“Em, he’s a guy.” James and I stopped at the truck. Em’s brand new BMW convertible was down the street.

“He probably uses those spy cameras to film Girls Gone Wild videos.”

I’d checked Jody out on the Web. He was solid. Good reputation, fair and honest. “He didn’t know we were dating, Em. Now he does.”

Em smiled at me. “And you set him straight. My hero.”

Her tight jeans and her black designer T-shirt hugged her cute little body, and I thought about what James and Jody had both said. About my league versus hers. Her blonde hair caught a slight breeze, and I felt a shiver.

“Let me just put the magnetic straps on the box.” James climbed into the truck and pulled the GPS from the bag. “This is going to be so cool, Skip.”

He was convinced we’d need it. To check on Carol Conroy, to track whoever her potential killer was, to follow whoever we thought needed following.

“Almost five hundred dollars of cool, James.”

“Yeah, but it’s on approval. If we don’t need it, if we don’t like it, he said we could return it.” James snapped the bands together tightly around the box.

“Just don’t make it too loose. It would be our luck to have the damned thing slip off and we’d have to pay him for nothing.”

“Okay, let’s go.” We walked down to Em’s car and she gave me a questioning look. I shrugged my shoulders. As usual, it was James’s call. He tugged at the bands, seemed confident that they were tight, and he lay down on the ground, easing himself under the BMW. “Ah, this is easy.”

“Yeah, but this is Em’s car and there’s nobody around to kick your ass for messing with his vehicle. If it was someone else’s car, and you got caught—”

James pushed himself back out. “Those magnets are tight. It’s gonna stay right where I put it.”

“And you just want me to drive wherever I usually go?” Em wasn’t 100 percent on board. Hell, it was my job and I wasn’t 100 percent on board.

“Yep. We’ll install the software on our computer at home, and we should be able to track you anywhere.”

“I don’t go to too many exciting places, boys.”

James brushed himself off. “You should get out more, Em. Pretty girl like you. Show yourself off a little more.”

“Screw you, James.” She got in the car, started it up, and pulled out onto the street.

“Can’t wait to get home and try this.”

“James, if you had your way, you’d spend the entire profit on this kind of stuff.”

“Only what we need, Skip.” We walked back to the truck.

“I keep telling you, we don’t know what we need. If anything.”

“GPS, a little portable video cam with sound, that laser beam that picks up sounds through windows, and one of those power strips to pick up conversations in offices. That would be a
sweet start, you’ve got to admit.” James started the engine, and it coughed. It caught the second time.

“The problem is, you’ve got to have a receiver for the power strip, a recording device, and a laptop for the GPS, and something to capture the voice from the laser beam.”

“Now you’re getting the picture.”

“James. Those cost money, man.”

“They’re going to make us money, amigo. Lots of money.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say that before.”

“And chicks dig dudes with money.”

“Office Space, 1999. Actually a very funny movie.” It was about working in cubicles for some big, impersonal company. After viewing the film, and laughing our asses off, James and I had sworn to never, ever work for a company like that.

“Good guess, pard. We okay back there?”

James had never learned to drive the box truck using the big side mirrors. Every time he tried to maneuver the Chevy one-ton box truck with the mirrors, we ended up having an accident or getting stuck. I leaned out the window and looked back. Five cars back, parked by the curb was a gray Honda Accord. Could have been coincidence, but it was the third time I’d seen one in a very short period of time.

The car that picked up the Asian man in front of the Red Derby Bar. In our parking lot last night. And now a similar car was five cars away.

“You’re clear, James.”

He pulled out.

“Circle the block.”

“Why?”

“There’s a car back there. A gray Honda that looks like the same car that was parked in our lot last night. And the same one that picked up that guy who was checking out Carol Conroy’s Lexus.”

“Gotcha.” James eased the truck out of the parking space, a stream of brown exhaust blowing from the tailpipe. With the noisy muffler, the brown exhaust, and the coughing engine we’d be hard pressed to ever sneak up on someone.

Down the street and to the left, down by the big tennis pavilion with its fourteen clay courts, seven hard courts, and big stadium that seats over eight thousand people. How do I know? Em plays there. I couldn’t afford the place. I mean they’ve had the Fed Cup, the Davis Cup, and who knows what else there. Out of my league.

James turned left at the next street. We got an angry look from an old lady who was crossing the street. Not because James almost hit her, which he almost did, but because as we passed her I could see another blast of brown exhaust that shot right at her.

Now he drove two streets down, and then left on the street where we’d parked. As we slowed down and creeped slowly up the street I could see the spot was empty.

“How many gray Honda Accords do you figure are in Delray Beach? Or Miami for that matter?”

Knowing James, he already had the answer. “How would I have any clue?”

“Just wondered. I’m guessing thousands.”

“You’re probably right.”

“So, let’s not get too paranoid.”

A horn honked and I checked my sideview mirror. A long line of cars and small trucks stretched out behind us.

“You might pick up the pace, James. There are quite a few people lined up back there.”

James glanced in his side mirror. “Yeah. I see them.”

He could use the mirror when he needed to.

“And, Skip, about six cars back there’s another one of those bastards. It’s a gray Honda Accord.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Are you sure you’ve got it installed properly?”

“Hey, you want to try it?”

James already knew that was the worst suggestion in the world. While my roommate was no whiz at the technology of computers, he could at least use the machine once it was hooked up. I’ve already pointed out that he was a whiz at Google, and the boy could kill at about a dozen online games. Texas Hold ’Em wasn’t one of them, however. He’d gotten into some real cash games, and I had to help bail him out once or twice.

“No. But if you followed all of the directions, we should be able to pick up Em’s car.”

“Don’t call her yet.”

James wanted to call Em and announce her location. I already knew her location. She was almost assuredly home. Probably working on Daddy’s books, and listening to the Flight of the Concords album.

“I’ll figure this out.” He punched in some numbers, referring again to the directions. “Okay, I’ll bet this does it.”

“Anything?” I was on the couch, my feet up, watching a Jerry Springer rerun.

“No.”

“You did something wrong.” Two heavy blonde women were trying to tackle each other as the guards kept them apart.

“Or didn’t do something right.”

“Yeah.” God forbid James would do something wrong.

“Where do you think she is?”

“Home.”

“Mmmm.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Where does she park when she’s home?”

“Condo has a garage.”

“Well, damn it. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“What?”

“GPS works off a satellite. If the vehicle isn’t outside, there’s no way we can tell where it is.”

“So, should I call her?”

“Ask her to move the car outside.”

She was going to love this. I dialed her cell.

“Em. You parked in the garage, right?”

“Sure.”

“And the GPS works off—”

“A satellite. Skip, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do you mind moving the—”

“Car outside? No. Tell James I’ll do it in the next five minutes.”

Em was full of surprises. We waited.

“James—”

“Yeah?”

“The people you are trying to follow—”

“What about them?”

“Are you going to call them and tell them to move their cars outside so you can find them?”

He sighed. I was apparently his burden to bear. James came over and gazed at Springer for a while. “Where do they get these strange people, Skip? It’s tough enough dealing with problems in private or with two or three of your friends. But to take it to Springer or weird Doctor Phil or Oprah? For God’s sake, what are they thinking?”

BOOK: Stuff to Spy For
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