“I don’t care about the legalities,” I said. “She is in danger with them.”

“We need eyes on that house first,” Marcus said. “We need proof of what they are doing to her before you make a move.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet pouch.

He tipped it over, spilling three tiny, circular glass lenses onto the desk.

“High-definition micro-transmitters,” Marcus said. “They feed directly to our secure satellite network.”

“I know how to use them,” I said, picking one up and feeling its cold weight.

“You’ll have to plant them without Grant or Vanessa realizing you’re there,” Marcus said.

“I know the estate better than anyone,” I said. “I designed the original security grid.”

“The grid has been updated,” Marcus cautioned. “Vanessa brought in her own security team last week.”

I stared at the tiny cameras in my hand.

“Then I will find a blind spot,” I said.

The tablet on the table beeped, a new red alert flashing at the top of the screen.

Marcus tapped the notification.

It was an encrypted email from an informant inside the Denver county courthouse.