Maggie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open, her features painted with shock. “Killing you? Excuse me? I think there are some things you need to catch me up on.”
“I guess there are.”
Spenser took a few minutes to fill Maggie in on everything that had been happening in this game of cat and mouse with the Ricci brothers, up to and including the bullet she found on her porch. The mayor listened to it with the surprise on her face giving way to something that looked a skosh short of anger. Mixed in with it all, though, was an undercurrent of worry. The council blowing her up about the article was obviously getting to her and because she was still trying to wrap her own mind around it, Spenser had no idea what to say or how to calm her down.
“And he’s been threatening you?” Maggie asked.
Spenser nodded. “Not that I can prove it, but yeah. He’s made it clear that he wants to see me dead for what’s happening to his brother.”
“How does him going to a reporter with his story make sense?”
“It doesn’t. Listen, Maggie, I’ve got no clue what he’s up to. I have no idea what this new strategy is. Not yet. But I promise you I’m going to find out.”
Maggie leaned forward, looking her in the eye. “Spenser, if this really is Alex Ricci behind this story, is there any truth to what he’s saying?”
“Not a syllable.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to the council. I’ll explain to them what you’ve told me about this all. In the meantime, I suggest you figure out what’s happening on your end and what Alex Ricci is up to with all this.”
“I will.”
“Good. Now, what’s going on with Seth Hamill? Doc Swift says you won’t let him sign off on the death certificate. Why is that?”
Spenser’s lips curled down as she felt a spike of irritation that he’d gone to Maggie and tried to talk her into closing the Hamill case. She wasn’t surprised. But she was irritated all the same.
“I found an injection site on his body and he’s not diabetic, nor a known IV drug user,” Spenser told her. “I want to get a blood panel back and see what’s on it before I’ll feel comfortable signing off.”
“Okay. Fair enough. Doc Swift is anxious to clear this. You know how he is.”
“All too well.”
“Good. Okay. I’ll let you get on with it.”
Maggie gets to her feet and heads for the office door, but Spenser stopped her, prompting the woman to turn around. Her anger was starting to boil over and she felt like she needed to say something to let them know she wasn’t going to take this lying down.
“Let me just say if the council wants to impeach me over this garbage, they’re going to have one hell of a fight on their hands,” Spenser said. “I love my job, I’m great at it, and this story is absolute crap. Ricci’s only intent by spreading this garbage is to ruin me.”
Maggie smiled. “That’s my girl. Then find Ricci and figure out what his game is.”
“Believe me, I’m on it.”
“No news is good news,” Ryker said.
“Not always,” Spenser replied.
“I never figured you to be such a fatalist.”
“I’m not a fatalist. I’m a realist.”
“Which is the thing most fatalists like to say.”
Spenser laughed softly and picked at her salad. It had been about a week since Spenser had heard anything from Maggie or the council and with every day that went by, she got even more nervous. She tried to put it out of her head, but that seemed an impossible task.
Cotter’s Café was a cute little spot a couple of blocks from the town center and her office. There wasn’t much going on that required her attention that morning, so when Ryker popped by to see if she wanted to grab some lunch, Spenser had been happy to get out of her office for a while. They sat at a table on the patio out back. It was a warm, sunny day. The sky overhead was a deep, beautiful azure, dotted with small patches of cotton candy clouds.
“They’re not going to fire you,” Ryker said as if reading her mind.
“You don’t know that.”
“But I know Maggie. And I know Maggie believes in you,” he replied. “There is no way in hell she’s going to let them do you like that.”
“It may be out of her hands.”
He arched an eyebrow, an incredulous expression on his face. “Have you met Maggie? Nothing is out of that woman’s hands,” he said. “She’s not going to sit back and let them and Alex Ricci railroad you. You can bank on that.”
“I know. But she’s one vote on the council and, unfortunately, she doesn’t have the final say. If the council wants me gone, I’m gone.”
Ryker took a sip of his iced tea, and though he put up a strong front for her, Spenser could see the concern in his eyes.
Spenser took a bite of her salad and glanced around the café, catching people turning quickly away after stealing furtive glances at her. Others looked at her openly, curiosity on their faces. While nobody had been overtly hostile toward her, many of them looked at her accusingly. She was sure Ryker would say she was being paranoid, but Spenser noticed that people weren’t being as open and friendly with her as they normally were.
“I guess more people read the Dispatch than Amanda thought,” she muttered.
“The Dispatch is a garbage rag that nobody takes seriously.”
