He Smirked, Called Me “The Family’s IT Girl,”

spiked beside the passenger-side rear wheel.

I crouched. Gravel bit through the knees of my slacks.

There, magnet-clamped under the frame rail, sat a black box the size of a paperback with a blinking green diode and a tiny dish antenna pointed low toward the neighborhood transformer line.

“Don’t touch it,” the team leader said.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Uncle continue reading …