Page 7 of Mike

Operation Save Mike’s Man-tail was a go.

There was some bushwhacking to be done on her hike in, so it took Joelle thirty minutes before she saw the clearing where Mike’s house stood, and she paused to gape for a few long seconds.

It was a pretty. Very. A two-story structure, it was large to say the least; extremely Maine-y with its rough-hewn logs making up the façade. It had a wide front porch that was strewn with comfortable looking wooden furniture, and a spilling-over abundance of red flowers in boxes that were attached to the railings. The landscaping surrounding the house wasn’t over the top. It was subtle, and done in such a way as to blend in with the vast, surrounding forest. Joelle found the whole look charming as all get out.

The more Joelle found out about Mike, the more she thought Miss Mellie might have rocks for brains. How could the woman have left a bright, handsome guy who was not only social, but clearly ambitious and able to provide for his family in such an enchanting setting, for someone…questionable. Okay. That was unfair.

Her new man was actually a dolt.

Or…could there have been something else at play to make Mellie jump ship from the yacht that was Mike, to paddle around on row-boat-Cam?

Joe wrinkled her nose.

Was Mike severely compromised in some way she wasn’t seeing? Oh Lord. Maybe he was one of those wet-lipped kissers. Joe shivered distastefully. Perhaps he was Quick Draw McGraw in the sack. But… Even if he was, couldn’t that have been fixed? Mike looked to be a good communicator—if his position on the SWAT team was any indicator—and if he sucked at putting tab-B into slot-A, a simple discussion or a tutorial would probably have set him on the right track.

Mmm. Tab B.

Joe wondered for a second what Mike would be sporting for assets down below, but stopped herself from traveling that carnal-thoughts-trail. It would do her no good. She wasn’t here for libido fulfillment; she was here to prevent a murder.

Joe, not seeing Mike’s truck as she took stock of the surroundings, crept around the perimeter of the house, keeping to the trees. She huffed when she saw the vehicle in question parked behind the main structure. Not in a garage.

Who didn’t have a garage in Maine? Weren’t the winters snowy as hell? Clearly Mike didn’t mind clearing a little, or a lot, of white stuff off his truck, and right now that was fine with Joe. It meant she wouldn’t have to break into a structure to set up her goodies.

Completing her circuit around the house, Joe grinned when she saw a rough, but good-sized treehouse just inside the woods to the right of the main abode. Moving closer, she noted it had clearly been a while since anyone had used it. There were broken branches speared through a couple of the ladder rungs, probably from a windstorm, and as she climbed up the semi-pulpy wood, she noted an undisturbed blanket of pine needles all over the platform surface onto which she emerged.

The fact that it wasn’t currently in use made Joelle very pleased, and as she pushed open a rough door to a small, interior space, she wanted to crow. The cut-out window on the structure had a perfect view of both house and truck.

Quickly pulling one camera from her bag, she found a branch just outside the window where the device would be nicely camouflaged, and mounted it with ease. Fishing out her phone, she set up the battery operated, wireless hotspot, then coupled the camera to her app. She sat for a few minutes, looking over the rest of the property to find a good location for camera number two. There was one tree opposite her current perch that looked climbable, and would give Joe a view of the other side of the property.

The question was, could she get up into the branches without being seen? The large oak wasn’t as hidden as the treehouse, and if Mike or one of his kids happened to be glancing out a window while she climbed, she’d be screwed.

Joelle chewed her lip. Should she wait, relying on the one device she’d already put in place until Mike and his family were elsewhere? With full, unimpeded access at a later date, she could easily install her second set of eyes. But maybe she should risk doing the install, now, just in case drip-head Cameron decided to make a move tonight while Joe was busy working at the bar.

Schnitzel. That was a tough call.

Joe dug in her pack again, and pulled out her mini-binoculars, putting them to her face and focusing on the house. Specifically, the windows, to see whether Mike or his offspring were currently roaming around inside, or if they were, say, static on a couch. If any of them were on the move, she’d take off and hope for the best; that Cameron the crud-muffin hadn’t completed his internet search on how to freak-up someone’s ride, yet. But if it looked like the occupants inside were busy with food, or video games, Joe would take the chance and install her second camera.

She focused on the downstairs windows first, and didn’t see a sign of movement. None. There was a big, state of the art kitchen that was beyond magnificent with a professional grade stove and a huge, granite topped island surrounded by stools. It was hard not to want to check out the multitude of stainless appliances and custom cabinetry in more detail, but time was ticking. She shifted her focus. A dining room in the next window looked like it was rarely used, so she didn’t linger. But another, smaller chamber to its left, looked like a game room that was well loved. Still, there was no one inside.

Joe turned to her glasses to the upper floor, and…

Her mouth suddenly went dry and she couldn’t conjure enough spit to swallow the huge lump that formed in her throat.

Mike was standing in what was clearly his bedroom. He’d shed his shirt to give her a ringside-seat to his perfect abs, but what had her gaping in anticipation was that his fingers were currently working on his belt.

Joe’s hand’s shook a little as she focused, but at the same time she scolded herself. Her main objective, finding out if anyone would see her as she scurried about the property, had been pretty much debunked. Mike wasn’t going to be looking out any windows. Given his state of semi-undress, it was pretty obvious he was stripping to head into the shower, which meant she should twaddle her little tushy down the ladder and make haste to do her deed while he was busy.

But…his pants…

They were just about to become history, and Joe couldn’t draw her eyes away.

Dagnabbit. She wasn’t a perv; at least she hadn’t been up until this point in her life. Was she really going to watch the man drop trou?

Her breath caught for a single second before?—

She put the binocs down, shaking her head to clear it.

As much as she wanted the peep show of all peep shows to unfold before her eyes, she couldn’t violate Mike’s privacy like that. It was bad enough that she had to spy on him for his own safety. She couldn’t be the sicko who used her powers for voyeuristic pleasure.

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