seat.
“Start from the beginning and tell me the story you told the police.”
“You answer my question first.” Who employed whom around here anyway?
He snorted. “I’ll answer your questions if you promise to answer mine. Honestly.”
“Fine.”
“All right, then. If they bugged David’s flat, they might’ve bugged anything, even your shoes. And this place,” he took in the flat, frowning as if he were still assessing for a threat despite the green-lighted readout she could see displayed on his monitor, “is wired for detection methods far more sophisticated than a couple of transistors.”
“You’re seriously telling me someone bugged David’s flat?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m seriously telling you someone bugged David’s flat.” He tossed her words back at her.
Her stomach clenched despite his sarcasm. Visions of David’s disappearance from her life two decades ago played like cutting room clips on the faded screen of childhood memory. He might be a pain in her backside, but she didn’t want to lose the only family she had so soon after she’d regained it.
“And you could tell that from a regular old radio?” He had to be mistaken.
Günter turned his attention to his laptop. “It’s an old trick.”
“Sorry?”
“The feedback.” He waved one wide hand. “It indicated a listening device in your light.”
“Huh?”
She could almost hear his mental sigh.
“If you tune one radio to AM and the other to FM, and you can tune the FM band into the AM station, you know you have a problem. To find the location of the bug, you use the radio feedback.”
“Is it the only one?” Why would someone would want to bug her room? Maybe the device had been there since before she’d arrived?
“Unlikely.” He took a swig of water before answering the thought she’d voiced aloud. “That room was used for storage until you moved in.”
“You have all of these toys here,” she swept her arm to take in the electronics around the room, “and yet you had to use cheap handheld radios?”
As long as she kept him answering questions, he couldn’t resume the interrogation Agent Gray had begun.
“They aren’t my toys.” He cleared his throat. “They’re your brother’s.”
Jenny looked around the opulent, high-tech room with new eyes. The modernist crystal fixture, the coffered ceiling, the abundance of leather and gleaming chrome—all screamed David. If she’d been thinking about it she would have seen his personality stamped all over the place.
“He pays you to live here?” she guessed. “Is that where I’ve seen you before? In this building?”
“Do I live here?” he asked, folding his arms across the span of his chest.
She stood and looked around again. There were no personal belongings. No photos. No car keys. No plants. She felt Günter’s eyes tracking her as she went into the kitchen. The only items in the fridge were the bottled water and some condiments—nothing that spoiled readily. The sink gleamed as if it had barely been used.
“Nobody lives here,” she said, coming to stand next to him again. She eyed the comfortable sprawl of his legs and remembered the way his shoulders had relaxed when he’d walked in the door. “But you spend a lot of time here. We must have spoken in the lobby, because I’m sure we’ve met.”
He tilted back in the chair, muscles in his arms rippling as he laced his hands behind his head. Expression inscrutable, he didn’t bother to deny her guess. A slow blink seemed to bring him out of some private avenue of thought, and the change in his expression startled her with its intensity. To lessen the heat tingling along her skin, Jenny pivoted and renewed her perusal of the space.
Günter watched Jenny poke around the living room and decided not to call her back when she wandered farther into the flat. She needed to settle her nerves and he needed to compose his thoughts right quick.
He hadn’t expected her to recognize him.
Melissa Marr and Tim Pratt