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doing it a lot.”
    Neanderthal nodded. “And it looks like—I mean, this really
     creeps me out, but it looks like you can watch the video feed live on the web. They
     e-mail me links to the recordings, but there’s also a link to watch the live
     video.” He paused. “I just don’t get it,” he said finally.
     “I don’t know who would want me monitored. I don’t think I have any
     enemies—I mean, besides you guys.”
    Touché. I looked at Joe.
    “Can we see them?” he asked.
    Neanderthal looked a little uncomfortable, but he nodded. “Yeah, let
     me just fire up my computer.”
    While he walked over to the desk on the left side of
     the room and opened up a blue laptop, I took a quick scan of the room, looking for
     anything suspicious and cameralike. Nothing stood out, though. Neanderthal had a
     surprisingly minimalist decorating style. Whoever had hidden a camera in here must have
     really tried hard.
    After a minute or so, Neanderthal called us over to his computer. He had a
     web browser open to his e-mail. “Here it is.”
    He clicked on a message from [email protected]. There was no subject, and when the message opened, it
     contained only a link.
    Neanderthal clicked on the link, and a grainy black-and-white video
     started up.
    It took me a minute to figure out what all the shapes were in the dim
     light, but then I could make out Neanderthal, in his bed, tossing and turning, then
     lying still.
    The video was silent apart from the sound of Neanderthal breathing and the
     occasional creak of the springs in his mattress.
    “Whoa,” muttered Joe.
    “Have you looked for a camera?” I asked. I turned in the
     direction the video was shot from; it looked like the camera had been on
     Neanderthal’s shelf of sports trophies.
    “That’s the really creepy thing,” Neanderthal said,
     clicking back to the web browser and opening up another e-mail. He clicked on that link,
     and another grainy black-and-whitevideo started up, this one shot
     from a totally different direction. It looked like this camera had been posted just
     above his door. What the . . .?
    “Every time I get a video, I look for the camera,” Neanderthal
     explained, “but I never find anything. Not even anything they might have hidden
     the camera inside. It’s like each time they film me, they’re sneaking in a
     camera, then coming back in, taking it out, and . . .”
    “And uploading the video and sending you the link,” Joe
     finished.
    Neanderthal nodded. “I keep searching my room,” he said.
     “Every night before bed, I look for a camera. But I never find it.
     Lately . . .” He stopped and rubbed his temples. “Lately the
     videos start after I’m already asleep. I feel like they’re sneaking
     in . . .”
    “While you’re sleeping?” I asked. Super creepy!
    Neanderthal sighed and nodded. “I can’t believe it
     either,” he said. “The last couple nights, I’ve set my alarm to wake
     up at one in the morning, and then again at three. I figure I’ll get up and check
     the web, figuring that if the video’s running, I can at least find the
     camera.”
    I nodded. “And how’s that worked out?” I asked.
    Neanderthal and Sharelle exchanged a concerned look. “It
     hasn’t,” Neanderthal admitted. “I wake up in the morning and find that
     someone turned off the alarm.”
    A chill went down my spine. “Wow.”
    “We tried to set up our own camera the other night,” addedSharelle, “but when we tried to watch the footage, it was two
     hours of Neal sleeping, and then it just went black. It was like someone disabled the
     camera without ever being seen.”
    Joe’s mouth was hanging open. “That is . . .
     wow.”
    Sharelle turned to me. “We have a burglar alarm,” she said.
     “My parents set it every night when they lock the door, which is hours before Neal
     goes to bed. It monitors all the doors and windows. But lately we’ve noticed after
     each time, the alarm has