would I do that?”
“You could meet some of my team, work with us, and we’d be together when the Scalper calls again,” Griff said.
“The Scalper, huh?”
“You and I both know that it’ll take some time for the bureau to coordinate things with local and state authorities. It could be another week or two before they form a task force, if then. Work with me and we could be ahead of the game.”
He made it sound so tempting. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“Okay. Have it your way.”
“Griff?”
“Yeah?”
“If he calls you—”
“I’ll let you know immediately.”
“Same here.”
“Take it easy, honey. And stop beating yourself up for not being Wonder Woman.”
Griff had taken his small, single-engine fishing boat out onto the lake earlier today and had spent a couple of hours in the fresh air and sunshine. He owned several seacraft, everything from the fishing boat to a yacht he kept docked in Charleston, where he owned a beach house. As much as he enjoyed deep sea fishing, there was something to be said for hours of lazy, relaxed fishing on a tranquil lake. As a boy he’d gone fishing in any branch or stream he could find, and his mama had always fried up his catch for supper. Those had been lean days when a fat catfish on their dinner table had meant the difference between eating and going hungry.
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