“Why are you being so secretive about him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess maybe because it’s still so new that we’re both kind of feeling our way around still. I’m not ready to go public with it yet—neither of us are,” she replied. “It’s kind of like, talking about it makes it real and adds pressure neither of us want to deal with right now. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Relationships can sometimes have enough pressure on their own. Adding more to it before you’re ready makes things more difficult than they need to be.”
“Exactly. Right now, we want to enjoy the whole getting to know each other phase of things. We’ll figure out where it goes when the time is right.”
“I’m thrilled for you, Amanda. I really am. You deserve to be happy and treated like a queen,” Spenser told her.
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
Amanda’s cheeks flushed and the corners of her mouth curled girlishly. She looked like a woman who had moved beyond a crush was well beyond smitten, and was careening headlong toward love. It was adorable.
“And if this guy ever makes you unhappy or fails to treat you like a queen, you tell me,” Spenser said. “I can make somebody disappear pretty easily.”
Amanda giggle-snorted. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m going to keep patrolling.”
“Same. Try to avoid eating all the sweets,” she said, then added, “but if you can’t help yourself, I’ve got a good tailor in town who can let your uniform out.”
“Good. I may need that number.”
Spenser said goodbye, then started walking through the town center, chatting with some of the townspeople and soaking in the good vibes of the day. It was such a fun, light atmosphere that the bad feelings of the previous day had even started to dissipate. They didn’t go away. Not completely. But letting herself loosen up and enjoy the afternoon in the town center certainly helped lower the volume of the harsh, grating voices that had been echoing through her head and predicting her doom ever since her chat with Johansen. The kind of fun environment that brought the entire town out to enjoy was one of the things Spenser loved most about Sweetwater Falls.
She walked down a row of tents filled with vendors selling any manner of goods, from the usual handcrafted scarves and jewelry to small batch bottles of home-brewed beer to a wide variety of decadent-looking and smelling strawberry treats. Spenser breathed it all in and couldn’t help but feel good. She emerged from the row with her mouth-watering and her sweet tooth going wild. On the bandstand at the far end of the green space that marked the unofficial center of Sweetwater Falls, the group of twenty-something hard rockers she’d seen practicing a few days ago was on stage, wrapping up their set.
“Thanks for your time, we’re Armageddon,” the lead singer’s voice echoed around the space. “Coming up next is Seth Hamill. Enjoy the festival!”
The applause was polite but not overwhelming as the band collected their instruments and vacated the stage. Apparently, hard metal wasn’t for everybody. Spenser watched as the next act, Seth Hamill, walked out onto the stage carrying a guitar case and wearing blue jeans, black boots, and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The comically large belt buckle he was sporting left little doubt about the genre of the man’s music.
Seth Hamill gave the crowd a brief wave as he got himself set up, and a backing band took their spots behind him. Sandy blonde hair spilled out from beneath the black cowboy hat atop his head. He brushed the top of his shoulders and wore a neatly trimmed goatee. Tall and very physically fit, Spenser had to admit that Hamill was a strikingly handsome man.
“Enjoying the eye candy?”
Ryker’s voice in her ear made Spenser jump. Laughing, she turned and slapped him playfully on the arm. As if conscious of the eyes of the townspeople all around them, he leaned forward and planted a quick, chaste kiss on her cheek.
“I’m not enjoying anything. I’m doing my job and keeping watch to make sure nothing gets out of hand,” Spenser said indignantly.
“Yeah, this crowd is really wild. You better call in riot control.”
She nudged him with an elbow. “Thanks for sneaking up on me. You’re like a ninja.”
“I am.”
“You need to start wearing a bell.”
“If I did that, I wouldn’t be able to sneak up on you anymore,” he replied. “And where would the fun in that be?”
“And you say I’m like a bratty five-year-old.”
“Well… because you are.”
“You say the sweetest things.”
“Right?”
Not caring who was looking, Spenser leaned against Ryker’s big frame, and as if taking his cues from her, he slipped his arm around her waist and, together, they listened as Seth Hamill began to play. Not surprisingly, it was a country tune.
“What do you think?” Ryker asked.
“Country’s not really my thing.”
“Me either. But it’s easier to listen to than the band that was on before him.”
“That’s true,” she replied. “And I guess I have to admit he’s got a pretty good voice.”
Spenser looked around at the crowd. Hamill had quite the crowd of groupies—mostly pretty, young women—singing and dancing in front of the bandstand. He gave them all a flirtatious wink that got them bouncing up and down as they squealed with delight. Elsewhere around the town center, crowds of people milled about, talking and seeming to be enjoying the beautiful, sunny afternoon.
“So, how are you enjoying your first Strawberry Festival?” Ryker asked.
“I’ll be enjoying it a lot more once I get some of those sweet treats.”
“You have got one of the wickedest sweet tooths I’ve ever seen.”
“We all have our vices—”
Spenser cut her words off as the sound of a girl’s shrill, piercing scream of terror rang out across the town center. That scream was quickly joined by a chorus of others, the panic in their shrieking palpable. It took Spenser a moment to process the fear she heard in the voices of the women screaming and figure out it was coming from the bandstand.
