“You know what happens to rats in the department, don’t you?”

Gavin’s expression wouldn’t hold. Fear flitted across his face. “He gave me the orders.”

“Uh-huh. And what you do with those says a lot. You’re going to rat to a guy that sits behind a desk all day, or are you going to cover for the guy that could keep you from getting killed. The guy that would risk his life to save you if he had to.”

Gavin scratched his cheek, seemingly thinking this over. He followed Frank as he moved to another part of the store. “Okay, fine. I won’t say anything. But don’t you think you’re taking this a little far? Spying on your ex-wife? What makes you think she’s not going to wig out again?”

“Well, the very idea of spying is that you don’t get caught.”

A man, skinny and pale, came around the checkout counter. “Hi. I’m Corbin. What can I help you with, Officers?”

Frank said, “I’m looking for a sweeper. I need something that’s at a professional level, something with a high RF sensitivity.”

“All right. We keep that kind of thing in the back. Give me a second and I’ll bring a few models out.”

Gavin turned to Frank. “What do you need that for?”

“Look, I’m done messing with you. This isn’t about Angela. It’s about that Web site.”

“Listen to Yourself.”

“That’s the one.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I read the Web site last night. Lots of posts but it’s hard to know exactly who is speaking. Except we know for sure that the Shaws’ conversation was recorded because Mr. Shaw admitted that he’d said everything that was put onto the Web site. I’m going to ask if the Shaws will let me do a sweep, see if we can find some hidden transmitter or something.”

Gavin seemed interested. “So you think that someone is going around planting these things and then listening in on the conversations?”

“I don’t know. But we’ve got to start somewhere.”

Corbin returned to the front counter and beckoned them over. He set an armload of boxes down and arranged them in a line. “Here’s what we got. I’ll start with the top gun of the bunch.” He opened a box and pulled out a machine about as big as a toaster. “This, my friends, is the CF-900. It has total RF spectrum coverage and can locate audio transmitters as low as 1 MHz. It’s got a built-in audio filter, search and/or monitor mode, LCD bar graph, and full carrier current detection.”

Frank lifted the machine, looking it over. “All I want to know is, will it pick up bugs in a sweep.”

“You betcha. If it’s in there, it’ll find it.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five hundred, normally. But it’s on sale for a hundred dollars off today.”

Frank set it down.

Corbin continued. “This is what the professionals ask for. Same brand as what the FBI uses.”

“Over my budget. You got anything cheaper?”

Corbin pointed to the box at the end of his line. “Got that thing. A miniature battery-powered scanner for five hundred.”

“That sounds better,” Frank said. “A little.”

“You’ll be lucky if this thing picks up a fax machine,” Corbin said, handing the box to Frank.

Frank decided on a different approach. “Have you seen a recent interest for listening devices here at the store?”

Corbin smirked. “Is there love and jealousy in the world?”

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Surprise!” Damien smiled and opened his arms.

Hunter just stood there, blinking.

Damien lowered his arms. Surprising Hunter in elementary school got a way better reaction. “Hey, I just thought I’d take you out for lunch today.”

“Oh.”

“What? Don’t want to go to lunch with the old man?” Damien tried not to look as insecure as he suddenly felt.

“Um…”

“You got plans or something? A cute girl?”

Hunter grabbed his arm and swung him around, pushing him out of the office. “Yeah, fine. We can go to lunch. No big deal.”

“Great!” Damien wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulder as they walked out the front door of the school. “So how’s your day going?”

“Fine.”

“Tell me something, anything.”

Hunter cast him a forlorn look. “It’s eighth grade. The highlight of my day was that we had a sub in calculus.”

“You have calculus in eighth grade?”

“Yes, if you’re an honor student.”

“Right.”

Inside the car it was mostly quiet. Outside, the high school was letting out for lunch. Kids yelled and hung out the windows of their cars, blaring their horns at one another. Damien headed for Mack’s Ribs. He reached between the console and pulled out a piece of paper. “Brought you my new puzzle. We’ll publish it next week, but I thought you’d like to take a crack at it.”

“Pretty Amazing is the theme?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Hunter studied it for a moment. “Twenty-two across is too obvious. It’s Pamela. As in Anderson.”

Damien smiled. “Yep.”

“Two down. Desirable Berry.” He scratched his head. “Halle?”

“Wow! You’re good.”

Hunter shook his head. “This is weird. You’re, like, doing all hot women?”

Damien swallowed. It was strange to hear his baby boy say “hot women,” but he kept the smile on his face. “Try some more.”

“Simpson, without googly eyes… seven letters.” Hunter laughed. “Jessica?”

“You’re good. I thought I’d made it more difficult.”

“So you sat around today and thought of nothing but hot women?”

Again, the “hot women” remark made him clench his jaw. “Well,” Damien said slowly, “I am a, um, man. And men do like… hot women.”

Hunter was in a full-fledged stare now. “Is Mom on here?”

“What?”

“Are you having an affair?”

“What? No! No! Why would you think that?”

“Because not once in my whole life have I heard you say ‘hot’ and ‘women’ in the same sentence. You don’t even use those words. You tell Mom she’s beautiful.”

“It’s just a… I thought-” Damien stopped himself. “Okay, look, I haven’t really ever had the birds-and-the-bees talk with you.”

Hunter’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Dad! Yes, you did. Wait… no, you didn’t. Mom did. She bought a picture book that explained it all. I was nine. It came with a coloring book.” He glued his gaze to the road.

Damien took a breath and tried to remain cool. This was much harder than he anticipated. Were the windows fogging up? “I know that you know ‘technically’ how it all works, but there are some other things you need to know, things that every father should teach his son.”

Damien noticed Hunter’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the denim on his jeans. Maybe he was going about this wrong. At the time, a crossword puzzle seemed like a good way to broach the subject of how women and hormones and all that could be, well, puzzling. But things seemed to be backfiring. Quickly.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m here for you if you ever need to talk about anything. Anything at all, even if it’s difficult or you think it’s wrong. Whatever it is, I’ll listen. Okay?”

Nothing. No reaction.

“What I mean is that you know right from wrong because we took you to church. That’s what I’m trying to say. Not that you’re doing anything wrong. Are you?”

Hunter finally looked at him. “We haven’t been to church in, like, two years.”

“Well, we’ve been busy and you’ve had soccer tournaments on the weekends and all that. Hunter, just hear what I’m saying. If there’s something you need to talk about, I’m here for you.”

“Maybe I could talk to Uncle Frank.”

That stung. But he trusted nobody more than Frank. “Sure, buddy.”

Hunter let go of his jeans. “Yeah, okay. I get it. Thanks.”

Damien turned into Mack’s. “Now, let’s dig into a big ole slab of meat!”

Hunter smiled. “Can I get double ribs?”

“Definitely.”

They walked in and sat down at a table near the window. Hunter gazed out for a little while, then apparently got bored with the view. “So what’s going on at work?”