Page 52 of Sniper's Pride

“He blew up his own boat,” came Blue’s disbelieving voice after the longest sixty seconds in Griffin’s memory. “Jumped in the water and blew it up on the way down.”

Templeton’s laughter was too loud, the way it always was. “He’s an idiot but not a martyr, in case you thought he believed his own crap. We have him.”

“Call the police in Juneau,” Isaac ordered a moment later, no sign in his voice that he’d been worried about that explosion—unless you knew him. “I think they’re going to want to talk to him.”

And that was one more situation handled while the oblivious residents of Grizzly Harbor slept.

Griffin disassembled his weapon, then climbed off the Fairweather’s roof. He jogged back to Blue Bear Inn, nodding at Rory, who was standing watch outside the front door.

“I left my jacket here,” Griffin said.

That was true enough. But was that why he was here?

The other man only nodded. “I have this covered.”

Griffin let himself in to the quiet inn and found his jacket where he’d left it. But he also found that ridiculous cape of Mariah’s, crumpled in a heap on the floor of the lobby.

And he didn’t think while he moved from the lobby to her room, but there he was. Letting himself in with the key he should have given back to Madeleine weeks ago. Folding up the cape and putting it where she could find it.

Then standing beside her bed.

And he didn’t want to think about how long he stood there, watching her sleep.

But he knew when he finally tore himself away and pushed his way out of the inn into the cold remains of the night that this had to stop.

Mariah had to go. This had to end.

His unhealthy fascination with this womanhad to stop.

Griffin had trained himself to knife’s-edge precision because he was a weapon, not a person, no matter what she said. And weapons did notcuddle—because if they did, they would find themselves on a rooftop daydreaming when they should have been focused and ready to strike.

He stood out there on the frigid street in front of the inn while his heart kicked at him, betraying him all over again.

Griffin did not panic. Ever. That was not what this was.

Even if it sure felt a whole lot like it.

“I’m headed back to Fool’s Cove,” he told Rory shortly. “Someone will relieve you tomorrow.”

“I’m on it,” Rory replied, as if keeping watch over a woman no one appeared to be chasing was his idea of a rocking good time.

Grizzly Harbor wasn’t entirely quiet this close to dawn. Fishermen were making their way down to thedocks and heading out to sea. Or maybe toward the flames in the distance. On the comm unit, Isaac was outlining the cover story he wanted Blue and Templeton to tell the authorities when they arrived, because admitting they were running any kind of op here could turn into a logistical nightmare.

Out fishing, officers,might not convince anyone, but it wasn’t like they could prove otherwise.

Griffin took his own boat back, navigating along the rocky shore where the moody northern sea swelled and surged as he found his way to the entrance to Fool’s Cove. And when he moored the boat at the dock below the lodge, then climbed out, he had every intention of hiking the mile to his cabin. At a punishing pace, because he needed to get back in control of himself. Now.

He was cold. He was furious—if only at himself. And he needed solutions, not more problems.

Maybe that was why he decided to addsuicidalto the mix.

A man took his life in his hands sneaking up on any member of Alaska Force at any time, for any reason, but particularly one like Isaac, who spent so much of his time and energy hiding right there in plain sight.

Griffin might have lost it tonight, because apparently he was nothing but some hound dog incapable of resisting a woman—but he wasn’t an idiot.

Not entirely.

Isaac’s cabin was set down near the water, accessible from the lodge along a makeshift hanging boardwalk Griffin and Isaac had spent a whole summer painstakingly replacing so it was walkable.

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