Free Hooked Up: Book 3 by Arianne Richmonde Page B

one time – after that, you, the cell phone owner, can be monitored – pinpointed on a Google map, without even knowing it.
    Eavesdropping.
    So once that person has been located they can also be spied upon. Even if you are not talking on the phone, the eavesdropper can still listen in to conversations.
    Dozens of programs are available that can turn any cell phone into a high-tech, long-range listening device, undetectable to the average person. A phone’s microphone can let the listener hear any conversation within earshot. The program can be installed from afar – the spy does not even have to come into contact with your cell phone. Once your number is dialed it taps into your phone’s mic and can hear everything going on. Your phone won’t even ring and you will have no idea that the listener is virtually at your side.
    It is now also possible for the spy to recover your deleted text messages and last dialed numbers – even deleted contacts.
    I sat there, stunned. My cell, that nice new Smartphone, and my old one—especially my old one (lost with my purse) with even more unprotected technology—had been unwilling traitors to my every move, my every word. My phone: a recording device even when switched off? Laura could have practically been in the bath with me and Alessandra; been privy to our bondage madness, heard everything about my night with the football players, not to mention all my intimate text messages and phone calls to Alexandre and Daisy! Maybe she’d been in on my emails, too. And if she had me tracked, who was to say she hadn’t done the same to Alexandre, or anyone she chose?
    I was horrified, yet relieved. Alexandre had not lied to me. He did not betray me. Laura was psychotic. And dangerous. Dange-air oose, as Alexandre would say.
    Anything I said, I did, could be used against me. Not in a court of law, no—the woman was breaking every ounce of the law, what she was doing was highly illegal. But her knowledge was her weapon. There was only one thing to do: take my phone to some techie-genius to be swept clean of her spyware, and get a new chip, not registered in my name. And call Alexandre—let him know that his ex was a total nut-job. Speaking of techie-geniuses, how come Alexandre himself hadn’t caught onto the fact she was hacking my phone? He must have known all about that sort of stuff. How come he hadn’t guessed?
    All that Laura was saying about her husband, too? Being AWOL. Had she topped James off?
    I needed to be careful. She was not only jealous, bitchy, and determined . . .
    She was terrifyingly dangerous.

    I TOOK MY PHONE to a specialized shop, and the man confirmed that yes, it looked as if it had been hacked. He restored the factory settings, changed the chip so I had a new number, and warned me to watch all text messages coming in, which could be new attempts at breaking into my conversations and messages.

BLACKMAIL

ALEXANDRE
    P EARL’S RESOLVE to keep me on my toes continued for the next couple of weeks. The chill of the winter air seemed to match her emotions. She refused to move back in with me. Daisy and Amy took up residence with her in her new apartment, which meant I didn’t have her all to myself. Daisy had split with her husband who had cheated on her—all the more reason why Daisy was acting like a guardian phoenix—always on the lookout, scrutinizing me with quiet reserve to see if I behaved well, if I did right by Pearl. Yes, I was on probation; all female eyes monitoring my every move, even little Amy who was only five years old.
    Pearl had been trying to get in touch with Laura. She wanted a direct explanation from her. How—she wanted to know—did she have all that personal information? I sure as hell wanted to know too, and at that point—considering my line of work and now knowing how scheming Laura was—I stupidly hadn’t put two and two together. What a dunce.
    As for Pearl, she just didn’t trust me—about Laura, about the history of