Page 163 of Rival Hero

“I don’t recall seeing it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” She stops searching and runs her hands through her hair, tugging at the roots. “This isn’t good, Cal.”

Something doesn’t make sense. She came in here to check the phone and now is looking for her tablet. What did I miss?

“What was the alert on your phone, Mia?”

“An unrelated message,” she huffs.

I take a few steps in her direction and squeeze her arms soothingly. “What prompted the search?”

“After I checked the text, I noticed the drawer open and peeked inside. That’s when I saw it was missing.” She stamps her feet, balling her hands into fists. “Dammit. I should have spent more time searching the house when we got home last night. I can’t believe I didn’t check for it. What the hell was I thinking?”

“We were tired. It was a long ass day.” I attempt to ease her guilt, but mine spikes. Once nothing looked amiss, I didn’t search the house the way I should have.

She shrugs out of my hold and continues searching.

“Let’s retrace your steps,” I suggest. “Where did you last see it?”

She yells, “It was fucking here, and now it’s not. I wouldn’t take it out without returning it.”

“Okay. Easy, babe. Let’s think. Does it have a tracker on it? Find my device feature?”

“I turn that shit off so people can’t find me.”

“Smart, but not helpful in this case.” Dragging my hand over my face, I shake my head and try to think.

“Is there something on there that you can’t risk getting into the wrong hands?”

She glares at me. “Not the fucking point!”

Okay. She’s upset. Gonna give her a pass on that one.

Her face pops up suddenly, like a dog who heard their owner pull in the driveway. “I need my signal scanner.”

“Why?”

“Someone was in here last night. While my system was offline. Maybe taking the tablet was only part of it.”

“Oh shit. I have a scanner in the SUV. I’ll be right back.”

My feet carry me out the door before I can blink.

When I return to the house, she’s pacing around the room with a scanner of her own, checking under lamps, turning over vases, and more or less trashing her place.

I turn on my scanner and move through the house, catching a few beeps here and there. A power line leading to an outlet. A cell phone signal coming from our phones.

And then I find one.

Video and audio transmissions.

From the vent above her bed.

“Got one. Son of a bitch,” I force out through gritted teeth.

Someone watched us making love last night.

And worse. Someone broke in here, intending to spy on my Mia.

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