Snowed in with the Boss

“Perry’s wife hasn’t spoken to him since right after you called to tell him we were coming to meet with him.” He paused, and held up his hand to show her a slender wire attached to a round, circular metal scrap, which he held pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “And I found this down by the bridge.”

She stared. “What is it?” she asked, even though on some level she already knew.

“A piece from a radio-controlled detonator. The bridge didn’t just give way. Somebody blew the damn thing out from underneath us.”

GRIFFIN WATCHED Sophie’s color drain and hoped she didn’t pass out on him. If she did, though, he’d deal with it, just as he was doing his best to deal with the situation that was developing around them.

After finding the detonator scraps and evidence of a blast pattern, he’d raced back to the mansion, hoping to hell he’d find Sophie intact, that the bomber hadn’t been waiting for them to split up before he made his move. But there was no sign of the bomber, no evidence of another move.

So what now? He didn’t know.

His first instinct had been to not tell her about the bomb, which was why he’d talked to the sheriff in private. That wasn’t because he was trying to keep her from worrying, either. It was more that he was used to keeping the most important pieces of information to himself. Whether in battle or in business, information was power. Besides, he was used to being alone, dealing with things alone, and didn’t see any need to share.