“A button?” Colin sat back on his heels.
Michelle held out her cupped hand to him. “Not a button like from someone’s shirt, but a black button that looks like it could’ve broken off some machinery or something.”
Colin’s heart jumped in his chest as he held out a surprisingly steady hand to receive Michelle’s discovery.
She turned her hand over, dumping the object into his waiting palm.
He wedged the black disc between two fingers and brought it close to his face. He ran the pad of his finger along the smooth side of the disc, but it wasn’t so smooth.
The same sticky substance he’d collected from the window was present on the disc. He closed his fist around the button and cursed, a black fury beating wings in his chest.
Michelle dug her fingers into the sand. “What is it?”
Colin drew in a steadying breath to keep from smashing his fist into the wall of Michelle’s house.
“It’s a camera.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
PINPRICKS OF SHOCK raced along Michelle’s flesh. And then she laughed. “A camera? That little thing?”
But Colin didn’t get the joke.
He opened his hand and the black device in the middle of his palm stared at her, like an evil eye.
Her smile collapsed. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“It’s a spy camera, but you don’t have to be James Bond to get one. Anyone can order one of these off the internet.”
“And what’s it doing on the ground outside my bedroom window?” She pressed her hand over her heart as if she could rein in its wild gallop.
Colin flipped the button over with his thumbnail. “It’s sticky on this side, just like the adhesive from your windowpane. Someone stuck this—” he held it up “—onto your window.”
Michelle tried to swallow, but her dry throat wouldn’t cooperate. “D-do you think that’s what he was trying to do last night? Place the camera?”
“Place it or retrieve it.”
“Once in place, why would he try to take it back?”
“The chips in these cameras are set to record for only so many hours.” He slipped the camera into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Once the time is up, you have to retrieve them to download your recording.”
“Recording? Like a video camera?” The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention, and she had to grind her teeth to keep them from chattering.
“Yeah, it’s a video camera, Michelle.” They’d been squatting in the sand, and now Colin rose, hooking his hand beneath her arm.
Her knees quaked and she wedged her shoulder against the stucco wall of her house. Someone had been spying on her. Before she examined the why, she wanted to know the how. The how would make her feel more in control, make her take a detour from the land of feelings to the land of reason…and action.
“How does it work? How can something so small do so much work?”
The harsh lines around Colin’s mouth softened. “It’s those tiny computer chips. The device is remotely controlled. You can hook it up to your computer and download the video. This one looks like it needs a special attachment and maybe some special software.”
“That’s amazing.” And knowledge was power. She pushed off the wall and squared her shoulders.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about cases where these spy cameras were installed in women’s dressing rooms or bathrooms. The women don’t even notice them.”
“Do you know how to download the video?”
“If I had the right stuff on my PC, I could figure it out. But I have a better idea.”
“The police?” The wobblies came back in full force as Michelle thought about the cops on the Coral Cove P.D. watching video of her coming and going from her bedroom to her bathroom.
“Too slow. Too much bureaucracy.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the side of the house. “I have a buddy in the county sheriff’s department. Played football with him in high school. He does this sort of thing all the time.”
“How soon could he find out what’s on that thing?”
“I made him look really good on the football field. If I get the camera to him this morning, he might be able to get us a read by the end of the day.”
Michelle stumbled as she rounded the corner to her front yard and Colin caught her just as he’d done every time since he’d entered her life two days ago.
“Will your friend be able to tell anything about the person who planted the camera?”
“Before I realized what it was, I had my fingers all over the surfaces. Even if the perpetrator had left any prints, which I doubt he did, I pretty much destroyed them. If we can nail down the make and model, we could start tracing that way, but there are a lot of these things around.”
“Do you think it’s him, Colin? Do you think it was the killer who planted the camera and then returned to my house to retrieve it?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it would be really interesting to find out if Amanda had one of these stuck to her window.”
“We’ll have to find out, won’t we?” She charged up the front steps and held open the door for him.
He stopped and wedged a knuckle beneath her chin. “Feel okay now?”
“I’ll feel a lot better when we nail this sicko.”
Colin grinned and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s my girl.”
Despite the ball of fear lodged in her gut, Michelle floated into the house on wisps of hope. Had Colin Roarke just called her sweetheart and his girl in the space of two minutes?
She felt like a high school girl who’d just gotten a letterman’s jacket from the star football player. Only she’d gotten something much more important than a jacket from this star football player—she’d gotten consideration and admiration. And that was better than being a cheerleader and homecoming queen all wrapped up in one.
* * *
COLIN LANDED ON her doorstep five hours later with good news. “I dropped off the camera with my buddy Jake Powell. He’s working a case today, but he thinks he can get to our little project by the end of the day.”
“Jake Powell.” Michelle bit her lower lip. “That name sounds familiar.”
“I told you he went to CCHS. Since he’s a year older than I am, he was already out of school when you were a freshman.”
“Did you tell him it was me? That I might be starring in those images?”
“Of course. He knows you were the last one to see Amanda alive, and that the murder took place on the street in front of your house.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Jake’s totally professional.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “If he’s so professional, did he ask you why you were using him instead of turning the device over to the Coral Cove P.D. or someone in his department working on the case?”
“Touché.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “In our line of work, we know when to ask questions and when to zip it.”
She dragged her gaze away from the way his jeans tightened when he had his hands bunched in his pockets. She’d spent most of this