“The necklace is giving me fits.”
“See if it’s stronger in any one direction.”
The observation deck was crowded on a summer Sunday afternoon, so that was easier said than done. On the bright side, having to squirm my way through crowds meant that meandering all over the place wasn’t too terribly obvious. Gemma and Marcia joined me, and, giggling, they both leaned over and said into my earpiece, “Hello, Charlie.”
I gave them what I hoped was a withering glare and hissed, “Knock it off, you two. This is serious.”
“Who’s Charlie?” Owen asked.
“My friends are getting delusions of grandeur about being on a secret mission.” Gemma stuck her tongue out at me, and Marcia took her picture.
“That better not have film in it,” Gemma shrieked, lunging for Marcia’s camera. It was a shame I hadn’t yet found the magical transmitter because they were creating a nice diversion.
“Are you getting anything?” Owen asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell much of a difference.”
There was a tug on my sleeve and an older man said, “Excuse me, miss?”
“Just a sec,” I whispered to Owen. “Yes?” I said to the man.
He held a digital camera out to me and gestured toward his wife. “Could you take our picture?” He had a heavier Southern accent than I did.
“Sure.” I framed them against the skyline and took the picture, then showed it to them on the camera’s LCD screen. “Is that good, or do you want another one?”
“That’s fine, thank you.” As they walked away, I heard him say to his wife, “See, I told you New Yorkers could be friendly.”
“Sorry about that,” I said to Owen. “Now, what do you need me to do?”
“Get out the radio.”
I pulled it out of my purse and almost dropped it, it was vibrating so heavily. “Oh, is the game on?” Gemma said a little too loudly, even though no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. At least, they wouldn’t be if Gemma didn’t keep drawing their attention.
“It’s going nuts,” I told Owen.
“Check the tuner dial. It should move to the right when you get closer to the transmitter.”