Tough As Nails. Jackie Manning

      LET’S GET OUT OF HERE.

      He crumpled the paper and put it into his briefcase. She watched numbly as he placed the listening device back inside the handset, replaced the cover, then hung up the receiver. As he returned his equipment into the briefcase, he motioned her to leave.

      She grabbed her bag and glanced back at the desk telephone. Anger filled her with a fury she didn’t know she possessed. Her privileged telephone conversations with her clients had been overheard. Whoever did this had to be stopped. She gazed at Mike, glad she’d found the courage to seek his help.

      Mike grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and came beside her. Gently, he draped it across her shoulders, and pulled her toward the door. Her hand shook as she opened her bag. When she found the key, she managed to steady it long enough to lock the office.

      She felt his arm around her as she hurried beside him down the hall. Damn, she’d do everything in her power to find the bastard and make him pay for this.

      Thank God Mike was here.

      WHEN THEY WERE INSIDE the elevator, he warned her not to speak. She used the short wait to catch her breath. Besides, she needed to think through the pieces of the puzzle. One thing remained clear. The stalker had known her every move.

      He might have followed her on foot from her office to the parking garage, or during lunch when she bought fruit at the farmer’s market. He might have followed her by car to her apartment building. But he knew which apartment was hers. And in which bar she had met Larry for a drink after work. The stalker must have overheard her give out that information.

      She’d made calls from her office only last week to have the locks changed on her apartment. She’d given her apartment number over the phone. Four days later she received the photograph that was slipped under her apartment door.

      Dear God, what else had she said over the phone?

      She’d called Mike’s office. The stalker knew that Mike was on the case. By calling TALON-6, she’d put Mike in jeopardy, too, she realized as a frisson of fear shot through her.

      She gazed up into his eyes. He gave her a crooked smile, fortifying and confident. “Still want to have that cup of tea? Maybe you need something stronger.”

      She closed her eyes for an instant. “I just want to get out of here.”

      “I know a place that’s quiet and we can talk.” He gave her an easy smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

      His comforting words tugged at something deep within her. Yes, she wanted to believe him, but her practical side knew better. Nothing would be okay again.

      When the elevator reached the lobby, Mike took her arm and she gave in to the desire to be protected as he led her through the crowd and into the street. The blare of street noises mixed with the afternoon heat made her head pound. Mike hailed a cab, and she was still trembling when he opened the door for her. He gave the driver an address on Second Avenue, then settled back and put his arm along the back of the seat. Unable to help herself, she turned into him.

      “Oh, Mike. I—I used the office phone when I called TALON-6 this morning.” She dragged in a shaky breath. “I’ve put you at risk, too.”

      “Shh. Don’t worry. This is what I do for a living.”

      “And my clients. Who knows how long their privacy has been compromised? I—I feel as though I should have done something to protect them.”

      He took her hand in his warm, firm grip. “You couldn’t have known, Bria.”

      His special nickname for her and his comforting touch brought forth a flood of yearning. She had never liked nicknames when she was a child. She’d always refused to be called anything but Brianna. Yet when Mike had first called her Bria, they were making love for the first time, and the gentle way he spoke the name had sounded like poetry. No one had ever called her Bria since Mike had been a part of her life.

      She should turn away from his strong, comforting embrace, but for this one brief moment she couldn’t resist. Not just yet.

      Yes, Mike made her feel safe, and dammit, that’s what she needed right now.

      No, cried a voice deep down in her soul. She was through leaning on any man. Hadn’t she learned the hard way that the only person she could count on was herself? Whatever was going on, she would face the problem and triumph.

      Bracing herself, she pulled her hand away and grabbed a tissue from her handbag. After blotting her mascara, she gave him a shaky smile. “I’m okay now.”

      His eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid it’s worse than you think.”

      She glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

      “The device I found does more than just listen to your phone calls.” His jaw clenched.

      She could see his quiet anger toward whoever was behind this. Was he always this emotionally involved with his cases, or was she an exception?

      “What do you mean by more than a listening device?”

      “I won’t know what the range of the transmitter is until I check it out in the lab.” Mike whispered. “I know it picks up conversations while the phone is on the hook.”

      She shook her head in disbelief. “You mean the stalker has heard everything my clients have said while in session?”

      He nodded. “Overheard and possibly recorded.”

      “But how?”

      “It’s a little more complicated than in the movies where someone sits in a van listening to tapes through a headset. Some P.I.s might still do that, but today’s technology that allows visual enhancement of the rings of Jupiter can easily enhance a whisper on the street to symphony-hall clarity.”

      She was suddenly speechless.

      “TALON-6 uses the cutting edge in surveillance equipment.” His mouth firmed. “We’ll find out who’s doing this and put him away.”

      “But…he’s already learned information that could be devastating.” Her thoughts went immediately to Billie Ray Bennett. Could he possibly have the expertise to do something like this? From what she could remember, he was a high-school dropout. But if he wasn’t behind the photographs, then who?

      “Mike, are you absolutely sure that what’s said in my office can be heard even though the phone is on the hook?”

      “Yes, it’s done every day. Any room sound can be heard and recorded up to as much as fifteen hundred feet, and more on some units. That means through two or more closed doors.”

      She shook her head. “I can hardly believe it.”

      “It’s easy. The device is activated by sounds. All the stalker has to do to hear or record what’s being said is to start an external stimulus that triggers the bug. It can be done simply by dialing your number. You think it’s a wrong number, but it’s enough to trigger the device.”

      “But why me? Who’s doing this and what do they want?”

      Mike clenched his jaw, determination darkening his blue eyes. “I promise you, Bria. I’m going to find out.”

      Nervously, she glanced out the taxi window at the pedestrians crowding the sidewalk. Hundreds, thousands, millions of people in New York City. The stalker could be any one of them.

      “I’m not sure I feel better knowing all these things,” she said finally.

      “I’m not trying to scare you, but it’s for your own protection. You’ve got to know what and who we’re dealing with.”

      “Of course. You’re right,” she said, realizing that she needed to protect her clients. “I need to know.”

      HE TAPPED HIS FINGERS along the computer pad, trying to control his fury.