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I reached for my phone, turned on the flashlight, and shined it underneath the couch. It was a thin black wire, which the cat must have pulled free.
I went around the back of the couch and shone the light on the wire, then followed it with my fingers. The wire disappeared under the bound edge of the rug, where it had been concealed. I followed it to the corner of the room, then under the windowsill to the table. The wire ended in a small black microphone.
A bug.
I searched the apartment and found another bug along the wall in my bedroom. I left both in place.
I looked around to figure out how somebody could have gotten in. I checked the back door, but it was locked. I checked my bedroom window, and it was unlocked. I never bothered to lock it, so that must have been the answer.
I went out to the car and searched everywhere, including the undercarriage. I found a GPS tracker under the back bumper. I left it there, too, and went back inside, my thoughts churning.
I didn’t know when the bugs and tracker had been planted. I didn’t know who, if anybody, was left to surveil me. I had to find out, but not at this hour.
I went to catch Mango.
My hero cat.
Chapter Thirty-One
My phone pinged at sevena.m.with an incoming text from Gabby:If you don’t call me back I’m coming over this minute.
I scrolled to Favorites and called her. “Gab, don’t come over. I’m fine.”
“I was worried. Why didn’t you call?”
“I should have.”I was finding bugs.
“I’m on the way to work. I can stop by. We can talk.”
“No, don’t.” I didn’t want her here. I didn’t know if it was safe. “I need some time alone.”
“Last night was awful. Dad lost his mind, so did John. Frankly, so did you. TJ, what were you talking about, the accountant was murdered? And do you really know that Rigel guy?”
I couldn’t tell her. “Gabby, it’s between me and John—”
“Why? What’s going on with you two?”
“It’s my business. Let me handle it.”
“I’m trying to help,” Gabby said, her tone softer.
“Thanks, and I’ll let you know if I need you.”
Gabby sighed. “Are you going back to rehab?”
“No, I don’t need to.”
“TJ, you’re in denial—”
“I’m not. Let it go. It’s my business.”
“I can’t, TJ. Too much weird stuff is going on. You’re with a guy who gets hit by a truck? Our office gets burglarized? John says it’s all connected to you.”
“He’s lying.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “I can’t explain, and you won’t believe it anyway.”
“Well, if you can get sober—”
“I’m sober.” I wished she believed me.
