Page 21 of No Reason to Trust

“Yeah, I get it,” Jake said. “But you’ll see all the surveillance tapes. When we catch these guys, it’ll be your work as much as mine.”

“It’s not the credit I’m worried about,” Livvy said quietly. “I want to have your back. Protect you from this shit show.”

Jake’s heart stuttered for a moment. “Thanks, Livvy,” he finally said. “That means a lot. And I want to protect you, too. You’re not risking your reputation, because you were smart enough to get out of the Bureau before all this crap came to light. But you’re risking your life. God knows what Nelson has planned for me at that meeting in Sheepshead Bay.”

“Grab a few extra cameras, and we’ll plant them in the room where you’re supposed to meet these guys. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.”

“Great idea,” Jake said. “I’m gonna pick up the cameras then come back to the building and install them. I shouldn’t be too long. Once I’m home, we can take off. Get out of D.C. and take a deep breath.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Until we get to Brooklyn and have to go up against the Bratva. But at least you’ll have backup this time.”

“Yeah.” A whip of regret snapped through him. He wished he’d been able to back up Livvy when she was in danger six months ago. “See you soon,” he said as he hung up.

He drove to the store where he’d bought the keylogger, parked and walked inside. There were only a couple of other customers, and they were looking at different tools. Jake spotted the woman who’d helped him with the keylogger and walked over to her.

“Hey, Alana,” he said, glancing at her name tag. “I was in here a couple of weeks ago and you helped me pick out a keylogger. Now I need some spycams to see who’s logging onto my computer.”

“Sure,” she said. “Follow me.”

Part of one wall was lined with tiny cameras. Thank God he’d talked to Livvy, because he would have had no idea where to begin. “One of my colleagues recommended these three brands,” he said, rattling them off. “They need to be small, easy to install and not obvious. And I need to be able to access them remotely.”

Alana nodded. “So you want something with storage in the camera and remote access, right?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Do you have anything in one of those brands that’s small enough to easily hide but also has decent storage?”

“Where are the cameras going to go?” she asked.

“In the ceiling around my desk,” he said.

The woman turned to study the display. Finally reached for one very tiny camera. “I think this would work well for you.” She glanced at him. “It’s not the cheapest option we have, but I think it’s just what you need.”

Twenty minutes later, Jake had paid for the cameras with the credit card he’d gotten from Diana and walked out the door with six of them and very specific directions on how to install them. Besides the cameras, Alana had sold him a screwdriver specifically fabricated to easily install the cameras, and a box knife that would cut cleanly through the ceiling tiles without leaving signs that they’d been disturbed. The cameras came with a booklet on how to install them and how to access them remotely.

Leaving two of the cameras in his glove box, Jake headed back to his office building, eager to get them installed and get out of town. Once he was in the building, he was relieved that he didn’t see a soul on the way to his office. Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he locked it again and went to work.

Thirty minutes later, four cameras were installed -- two that would face the computer, so he’d know what the hacker was looking for, and two on the other side of the computer that would reveal the face of the person.

He made sure he picked up all the debris from the installation, including the tiny bits of ceiling tile he’d had to cut out. Once he opened the app on his phone that accessed the camera feed, he could see his own face very clearly on the screen of his phone.

Nodding, he grabbed the bag with his trash and stuffed it into his briefcase, along with the instructions for the cameras. Alana had assured him they had batteries that would last at least six months, probably closer to a year.

Jake made a face as he spotted a few more pieces of ceiling tile on the floor. He stuffed them into the bag. If they didn’t get this solved within a year, he and Livvy and the FBI were in trouble.

When he got back to his apartment, he heard Livvy pacing back and forth. When she heard the door click open, she stopped and drew her gun. Edged close to the wall, then peered around the corner. Blew out a relieved breath when she saw him and re-holstered her Glock.

“Thank God,” she said, her shoulders relaxing. “I was picturing all kinds of awful scenarios, including Nelson catching you installing those cameras.”

“Nope,” he said. “Got them in, got the mess cleaned up, then took off.” He plopped his briefcase on the table and drew out the bag of trash from the installation. “Got two more to take with us for the office where we’re supposed to meet these guys. I’ll drop this trash in the garbage on the way out, so no one knows who dumped it there.”

“Good.” She narrowed her eyes. “Have you called Diana yet?”

“No. I was focused on getting those cameras installed, then getting back here.” He sucked in a lungful of air. “First full breath I’ve taken since I walked into the building with those cameras.”

“Give her a call now so we can get going,” Livvy said. “Being in D.C. is making me nervous. I want to be driving away.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. I’ll call her right now.” He pulled out his phone and touched Diana’s contact information. She answered almost immediately. “Director Redfield,” she said in a very business-like voice.

“Madame Director, this is Jake Dunbar,” he said. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

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