Our collection also came with actual protection, unlike the Polat family. Everyone knew which businesses were ours and not to fuck with them. And if they did get fucked with, you could rest easy knowing we were going to handle it.
Just a couple weeks ago, one of the girls who worked at one of the bodegas we protected was grabbed and almost raped after locking up for the night.
Let’s just say we turned over every rock until we found the guy responsible. And made it so he couldn’t ever try that shit again.
So while we did do the same kind of racket, we had some morals to ours.
“So, this is what we are looking for?” she asked, motioning to the barely-there cameras I was holding.
“Yes and no,” I said, shrugging. “That’s the hard part. Hidden cameras have gotten good. They can be inside clocks or charging blocks. They could be anywhere. And, normally, if I were sweeping for it, I would just use a bug detector. But they work by finding the frequency of the bug…”
“And we have them jammed.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, nodding. “So we have to do it the old-fashioned way,” I told her, producing a flashlight and an empty toilet paper tube to look through. “Camera lenses will reflect. Gotta draw the curtains and turn off the lights, though.”
And with that, we spent the next twenty minutes or so going over the living area with a fine-tooth comb.
“You found one?” she asked when I asked her to turn on the light.
“Yeah,” I said, flashing the light near the entertainment system again.
The light came on, and I was able to see the source of the camera.
The eye of a ugly-ass lion sculpture.
“Babe, not being critical here, but how often do you dust?”
“Dust?” she asked, brows furrowed. “I mean, I dust the main surfaces weekly. But like a deep clean dusting… once a month maybe. Why?”
Because the sculpture had dust on it. And no fingerprints in the dust.
“Because this looks like it has been here a while,” I said, pointing toward it.
“Like longer than the past few days?” she asked, stiffening as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, longer than that.”
“Like Eren maybe put it there? To watch me when he wasn’t around?” she asked.
“Do you think that sounds like him?”
“Absolutely,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve never met anyone as controlling as he was. Asshole,” she hissed, shaking her head.
“That about covers it,” I agreed. “Flick the lights again. Let’s make sure this is all there is.”
It wasn’t.
Of course it wasn’t.
There was another in a digital clock that had a good view of both the kitchen and the back of the door, so Ezzy could be seen coming and going.
There was one in the guest room that she claimed was her safe space.
And, unsurprisingly to me, but horrifying to her, in the bedroom. Facing the bed.
“I always thought I was a good person,” she murmured, making me turn to find her standing there, staring at the bed.
“You are. Why would you imply you’re not?”
“Because,” she said, turning to me, her eyes dark. “I really hope you made him suffer.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, babe,” I assured her.
“Oh, God. No. You don’t think…” she said, looking a little green as I turned the light on in the bedroom, then made my way to the bathroom.
I wish I had words of comfort for her. But the fact of the matter was, if her husband was spying on her everywhere else in the house, I didn’t think he would draw the line at the bathroom.
“Can’t imagine it is much comfort,” I said when I found it, “But it is only facing the shower. Tell you what,” I said, knowing she was not going to be able to think straight with the cameras on, not knowing if Berat and Deniz maybe had access to them now. “After I leave, go around the house like you are doing some cleaning. Pick this up,” I said, lifting the tissue box where the camera was, “dust it, then set it back with the camera side facing the wall.”
“I can do that,” she agreed.
I wish I had some way for her to do something about the one hidden in the fake smoke detector in the bedroom, but there was no plausible way for her to fuck with two cameras in one day without it looking suspicious.
“At least I know where they are now,” she said, following me back out into the kitchen. “It’s better than not knowing.”
“And it’s not forever,” I reminded her. “As soon as we know shit about the business side of things, and how we can get them out, we will get you out and safe. Maybe a week. Two, tops.”
“I can live with that,” she said, sighing. “I mean, I’ve been living with the cameras this long without having any idea I was being watched, so…”