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“Fine,” Hedra said. She pointed to the plastic baggie in his hand with the paper and switchblade tucked carefully inside. “Why do you have that?”
“I took them from the tire before I came into the grocery store to find you,” Boone said.
“Why are you giving it to Grayson?” Hedra asked.
Boone and Grayson glanced at each other, and Hedra frowned. “You can throw them away. I’m not going to the police, Boone.”
“I know,” he said. “But it’s best to keep it in case you change your mind.”
“So, why are you giving it to Grayson?” Hedra repeated.
“He’s checking something for me,” Boone hedged.
“Fingerprints,” Hedra said. “You’re asking him to check for fingerprints with some junior detective fingerprint kit, aren’t you?”
“It’s a professional kit,” Grayson said.
Hedra glared at him, and Grayson gave her an apologetic smile.
“Do you actually think you can find out who Mateo is by dusting for his damn fingerprints?” Hedra asked.
“One hundred percent I can,” Grayson said. “I’m good at my job, Hedra.”
She rolled her eyes. “Give me the note, please.”
Grayson glanced at Boone, and Hedra muttered a curse. “This isn’t Boone’s call.”
“Little lamb, I can’t let you destroy the note,” Boone said.
“It’s not your decision,” she said.
Boone just shook his head, but he took the note from Grayson. “Gray, I’ll bring this to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Grayson said.
“No, he won’t,” Hedra said.
“Good night, Hedra,” Grayson said.
She gave him a curt nod, glaring at Boone until Grayson had left the house. “Give me the note, Boone.”
“No, baby,” he said.
She followed him out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his office. She watched in disbelief as he opened a wall safe, using his big body to block her view when he entered the password and stuck the note and switchblade still in the plastic bag into the safe.
He shut the safe and locked it, turning to face her. She planted her hands on her hips and said, “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off, Boone Jameson?”
“No,” he said, “but I won’t let you destroy that note.”
“Instead, you’ll do something I’ve asked you not to do,” she said.
He shook his head, folding his arms across his broad chest as he leaned against his desk. “No. If you don’t want me to have Grayson dust it, I won’t.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Please tell me his name, sweet lamb,” Boone said.
“I can’t,” she said.
