The blinking was so faint my wife almost ignored it. Two nights into our stay, half-asleep, she whispered, “Why is the smoke detector flashing?”
At first, I assumed it was a dying battery. But the rhythm felt wrong—too steady. I climbed up, twisted the cover, and froze. Inside was a tiny black lens, pointed straight at the bed.
We didn’t argue or call the host. We packed in minutes and drove to a gas station, shaking, the smoke detector sealed in a grocery bag. I left a blunt review: Hidden camera in the bedroom. We left immediately.
The host replied within minutes: You’re an idiot. You just interfered with a felony police operation.
Then things spiraled. My account was suspended. A platform rep claimed the camera was part of an “authorized surveillance.” A man calling himself a federal agent warned us to stay quiet. Soon after, anonymous messages and threats began. My wife’s car was vandalized. Someone knew where we lived.
Something didn’t add up—especially when the rental stayed active. I rebooked it under a burner account. One night, a man showed up at the house and waited silently outside before disappearing.
That was enough. A different police department finally listened. They raided the home and found multiple hidden cameras—none connected to law enforcement. The “sting” was fake. The host had been secretly livestreaming guests and using threats to keep them silent.
We sued. We won. We stopped using short-term rentals altogether.
I still think about that blinking light—how easy it was to dismiss. Sometimes danger doesn’t scream. Sometimes it just blinks, waiting for you to ignore it.