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I pointed the detector toward it and pressed the yellow button. There was an audible sizzle and the light on the camera went out. One down. How many to go?
Bree was visibly upset, but she kept quiet as we swept through the rest of her house. We found two more devices—one in the bathroom and the other in her bedroom. Both were connected to cameras. The one in the bathroom was aimed directly at the shower. The one in her bedroom was aimed at her bed from where it was tucked in the foliage of a dried wreath hanging on the wall.
After we had found and fried all bugs and cameras, we did a second sweep to make certain we hadn’t missed anything.
I sat down at the kitchen table, shaking my head. “Well, I didn’t expect that when we started into the graveyard. I know Grams already asked, but try—can you think ofanybodywho might be responsible for this?”
Bree shook her head. “As I said, I don’t have any irate exes. I don’t date often, and when I have, we’ve broken it off amicably.”
“They don’t have to be irate,” Bran said. “Anybody who didn’t want to break up? Were there anybody who wanted to date you but whom you refused? Any unrequited lovers?”
She sighed. “I get a lot of offers to date, but most of them are from tourists who are passing through. They’ve usually either taken one of my expeditions or are going to take one. I never date customers. It leads to trouble.”
“That’s a good policy,” I said. “But have any of them ever gotten pushy?”
Bree thought back. “I don’t think so. A couple guys were jerks about it, but that doesn’t happen often.”
“Would you mind if we have a cuppa while we wait?” Grams asked.
“Of course,” Bree said.
“Let me.” I put the kettle on. When I searched through her cupboard, all I came up with was a box of English breakfast tea. The rest of her drinks were various flavors of coffee. Like me, she preferred her caffeine American-style.
As I was heating the water, my phone dinged and I checked my messages. I had a new text from Faron, asking me to call him. I glanced at the back door.
“I’ll be right back. Bran, would you watch the kettle?”
“Sure thing,” he said.
Grams was busy talking with Bree, so I took the opportunity to slip onto the back porch. As soon as I’d closed it behind me, I called Faron.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.
“I can’t wait till Friday night. I wanted to hear your voice again,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat and I smiled. “I’m over at Bree’s. We’re investigating the graveyard next to her house.”
His voice took on a sudden gruffness. “Who’swe?”
The longer I knew Faron, the longer I had to admit that I’d been wrong about him. Oh, he’d been wrong about me too, but at least we weren’t having a pissing contest in the snow any more. But he and Bran—there was no way they were ever going to be buddies.
“Grams is with me, and Bran came along too.”
“Bran?”
I rushed ahead, not wanting to go down that road. “We found something disturbing.”
Faron paused, then he said, “What did you find?”
I told him about the cameras and recording devices. “Somebody’s stalking her, and we have to find out who.”
Immediately, the jealousy vanished. “Crap. That’s not good. If I can help, ask. That’s no way to treat a woman.”
“No, it’s not.” I paused, not wanting to insult him. “I have a question,” I finally said, “I want to ask you something but it could be taken as rude so I’m going to preface it with this: I don’t mean it in a rude way at all.”
“Ask away,” Faron said, laughing as he added, “At least I know you’re not telling me to go eat my can of Alpo.”
I blushed, groaning. As I said, I’d been as wrong about him as he had about me, and I’d gotten my own jabs in. “No, not at all. Um…do wolf shifters have a heightened sense of tracking ability? Like…for scents?”
