I shrug. “Rip them to shreds if you need to.”
“I don’t know a lot about designer bags, but I know some of those are pretty expensive,” he cautions.
“I honestly could not care less what any of it costs. I will pay you to destroy them if I need to.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I just want to make sure they are only trackers, but I’m fairly certain that’s what is hitting.”
I don’t fight the shiver of revulsion. “Those bags and that jacket are my favorites. I use them almost all the time, and the duffle. That’s what I brought here with me on the flight.”
Boone nods. “I think it’s safe to assume he’s been watching you for a while, and he knows you pretty well.”
“He doesn’t know me,” I protest vehemently.
Boone takes hold of my upper arm. “Not like that. I just mean he knows your habits,” he explains, but I still don’t like the notion that this guy knows me.
“What are we going to do with them after you confirm they are trackers?” I take a step back, forcing him to release his light hold on my arm.
“Nothing for now. I’d like a little more time to see what I can find out about him, see if he made any mistakes that can lead us to him.”
“Before he comes back for me,” I add.
“Before hetriesto come for you. Don’t go downstairs. I still want to do a full sweep.” He turns back toward the closet, but I’m on his heels. Given the choice to be with him or alone, I’m always going to choose being with him, unhealthy or not.
Undeterred by my presence, Boone flips open a knife with a click. The movement is so smooth, I would have missed him pulling it out of his front pocket if I wasn’t watching him so closely. He kneels on the floor and pulls my overnight bag close. A few seconds later, he has a small black disc pinched between his fingers. It’s smaller than an AirTag, but not by much. Clearly, these don’t come with an alert that one is nearby like the big company’s trackers do.
After I get a look at it, he places it back in the bag and moves on to the next item. One by one, he works his way through the pile, showing me similar objects along the way. I want to protest when he keeps putting them back where he found them, but I don’t. As much as I would love for him to destroy them, it would only alert this guy that the trackers were found.
Eventually, Boone rises from his kneeling position, but he leaves all the items he searched on the floor. Looking at it makes me sad. I want to be strong and pretend that the invasion doesn’t bother me, that I will still be able to pick up my favorite fall bag and use it without issue once this is all over, but all I feel when I look at it now is disgust. I hate that I’m letting him steal something else from me.
“You can stay here while I check the other rooms,” he offers when I can’t seem to take my eyes off the spot he just vacated.
“How accurate are those things? If I move them to one of the other rooms, would he know?”
“If they all moved at once more than a few feet, it could register. I wouldn’t risk it.”
“I could kill him.” The confession comes unbidden. Even after recognizing my words as truth and not just a flippant comment, I don’t feel an ounce of shame or remorse even knowing saying it in front of Boone could get me in a lot of trouble, especially if I ever got the opportunity and took it.
“I hope you are never faced with that reality, Harlyn, but if it’s ever you or him, don’t second-guess it, hesitate, or give him a chance.”
I finally manage to look away from the offending pile and move my gaze to Boone. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, “What if it’s not me or him? What if I’m the one to instigate?”but I don’t. I may be desperate, but I’m no fool, and that kind of talk is incriminating, especially in front of a man who took an oath to uphold the law.
“I’ll come with you,” I say.
CHAPTER 16
Boone
Ihit the button on the side of my phone to stop it from continuing to vibrate, then I glance down at Harlyn before even checking whom the text is from. She hasn’t been asleep long, and something tells me she isn’t going to sleep all that well no matter how exhausted she truly is. Her eyes remain closed, but her lashes flutter against her cheeks before going still again.
Frank: I dug into the files. There isn’t much beyond what you already have besides the autopsy and tox report.
Me: Any surprises on either?
Frank: I emailed you the files. Check out COD.
It only takes a second to switch apps and locate the email, but sorting through the document on my tiny phone screen is another matter. I take another look at Harlyn then ease my wayoff the couch. I tried more than once to get her to go up to bed, but she refused, even when she couldn’t keep her eyes open. I was tempted to offer to go up with her, but that wouldn’t have been smart for more than one reason—the most important being the fact that I need to be down here and not distracted so I know if anyone tries to get in.
While digging my laptop out of my bag, I get another text from Frank, but I don’t stop to read it until after I get the thing powered on and my Wi-Fi routed through my phone. The message contains a picture of a document. He must have gotten impatient.
