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Despite her reassurances to her brother, the RF detector unearthed two devices in Garima’s beaten up old vehicle. Someone with a knowledge of auto electronics had hard wired the GPS tracker as a permanent fixture beneath the bonnet. Lexi expected that. She knew her SUV contained a similar gadget. But she hadn’t factored in the high tech listening device slipped behind the torn flap of the passenger’s sun visor. She struggled for ten minutes to understand the detector’s plaintive beeps and isolate the location of the bug. Disbelief vied with fury as she ripped the fabric wider and extracted the tiny black box with shaking fingers.
“Is that it?” Garima’s wide blue eyes swam with terror. He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “Can he hear us now?”
“No.” Lexi fumbled for the power button and deactivated the device. “It’s voice activated. Tarant uses these. Much less complicated than the watch I found in my house. It records for around seven hundred and fifty hours before the owner needs to download the files onto a computer and recharge the battery.”
“How many?” Garima’s voice rose to a screech before he clapped a hand over his mouth to shush himself.
Lexi extracted herself from the vehicle. She wrinkled her nose. “There’s a rainwater leak somewhere,” she suggested. “Your car smells of damp and mould. But the church is clear of bugs.”
To her surprise, her brother’s face smoothed into a grin fit to make the church ladies swoon. “Seven hundred and fifty hours,” he marvelled. “Seven hundred and fifty hours of me singing hymns and praying in tongues.” His belly laugh echoed around the empty church car park. He bent double and cackled without shame.
“You idiot.” Lexi shook her head and pushed the listening device into her jeans pocket. “Only you could find the humour in this.”
Garima sobered and pressed his fingers over his lips. “So, that gadget doesn’t constantly squirt information to the owner?” He cocked his head, and Lexi frowned.
“They can use Bluetooth to access it. Via a phone or tablet, but they must get within range. And they can listen to the recording but not physically download it. I’m not sure if this is new or if someone regularly breaks into your car, grabs the device, and links it to a laptop before putting it back afterwards.”
“And you’re sure there’s nothing in the church?”
“I promise.” Lexi dipped back towards the vehicle and retrieved her RF detector from the dashboard. Her mind roved, putting more puzzle pieces into place. She leaned forward and inspected the steering wheel and its faded surrounds. Garima rested his arm along the top of the passenger door and watched her. “What are you looking for?”
“Does this car allow you to take calls while driving?” she asked. The lowering sun blinded her as she stared up at him.
Garima snorted. “Gosh, no! I need to pull over to the side of the road and answer the phone. Priests can’t break the law.”
“Did Father Donald stop driving to take calls? Or would he put the phone on speaker and continue his journey?”
Garima’s lips pursed into tight lines. “He always stopped. And he never used the speaker. All our calls are sensitive and confidential. We don’t risk anyone else overhearing.”
Lexi dropped her chin and stared at the rust spots lacing the door trim. “So, it’s possible Father Donald took a call from someone confessing to a crime,” she mused. “In the car. Not in the church?”
“And that’s how Dad heard about it?”
Lexi winced. “No. The killer did. Someone with a Bluetooth device linked to this bug listened to his call.” She shrugged. “But what are the odds of that?”
Garima’s frown bisected his handsome brow in a vertical valley. “They’d need to follow the vehicle permanently to remain on hand for anything juicy. Who has the time to do something like that?” He glanced around them in suspicion. “I could set them to cleaning the brass in the church if they’re bored.”
“Would you notice someone lurking around the car park?” Lexi demanded. “Or tailing your vehicle?”
Garima’s feeble shrug gave her an answer. She rose and slammed the door closed behind her. It gave a sad groan, as though the hinges objected to their use.
“Dad’s driver,” Lexi mused. “Do you remember him?”
Garima’s eyes bugged. “The previous one? Robin. He often visited the church just to sit in the pews. Or he listened to his radio out here in the car park. His wife died last year, and he struggled to cope. I put him in touch with the grief counsellor who uses the vestry once a week. He met with her on Monday. Mrs Barrymore is a widow and keeps a special eye on him.”
“But she didn’t come in until late that day. She told the police she had a problem with her car.”
Garima’s expression became blank. “I didn’t realise,” he mused. “I wonder how she got here.”
“Have you seen the driver lately?” Lexi held her breath as he frowned.
“No. That’s why I asked Dad about him. Do you think he spied on me?”
She offered a shallow nod. “Yes. Perhaps for Lachlan, but also because you showed him kindness. I think he left the note on my vehicle after Doug and Ron carted me off to my meeting at the bookshop. A warning more than a threat. It’s possible Father Donald took the call in the church car park before he started his journey, and Robin listened to it. I wish I had the courage to ask Lachlan where your car went that morning. He controls the GPS tracker, after all.”
“But then we’d need to admit that we’re aware of his bugs. He’ll find another way and it will limit our control.”
Lexi snorted. “He’s already found other ways, but you’re right. I didn’t use my car to visit the prison because I didn’t want him tracking me there. Why is he like this with us? From no contact to overseeing our every move.”
“Do you think the chauffeur told Dad about the call Father Donald took?” Garima squeezed his eyes closed against the myriad snippets of information swirling around him.
“No. Remember Lachlan’s reaction to the note? He knew nothing about it.” She snapped her fingers. “Does Kelly still have it?”
Garima winced. “No. I retrieved it this morning. No sense putting her under his spotlight. Should I let Dad have it now or not?”
“I believe it no longer makes any difference.” Lexi exhaled. Her tone became hard. “Goodness knows where the driver is. On a flight to Fiji or at the bottom of the Waikato River. We’ll never discover the truth.”
“So how did Dad know about the confession?”
Lexi’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Because of the listening device in my kitchen,” she snarled. “Someone planted it on the shelf with the cookery books. We sat at the table when you told me about it. Remember?”
Garima nodded. He ran a hand over his face. “I noticed it but assumed it belonged to your employer.” His lips flattened into disapproving lines but he let it go. “So, how do we find out what Father Donald heard?” he asked. Tiredness shrouded him like a black cloak. Heavy shadows beneath his eyes betrayed a sad and exhausted man.
Lexi tapped the pocket containing the recorder and her features hardened. “I’m hoping it’s on here,” she replied.
