Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Author's Note
Connect with Elle Gray
Also by Elle Gray
If he was trying to scare her, it was effective, but lacked a certain subtlety. But Alex Ricci, a former hitter for the Arias drug cartel, wasn’t a man known for his subtlety. Instead, he was known for his cruelty. For his brutality. He was known for it but never prosecuted for it, simply because he was smart enough to stay ahead of those hunting him. Smart enough that he’d eluded capture for years. And now that she had disavowed the FBI and started her life over in the Pacific Northwest, he wasn’t supposed to be her problem anymore.
“Except that he’s made it my problem,” Spenser muttered to herself.
The darkness around her was filled with the nighttime song of the frogs and crickets. A cool breeze stirred her dark hair and felt soothing as it caressed her skin as she held a glass of wine in one hand and the nine-millimeter bullet in the other. A bullet meant for her. The brass round in the palm of her hand glinted in the dim ambient light, and the same chill that slithered down her spine the second she saw the bullet sitting on the porch of her cabin washed through her again. The message of the bullet on her porch was abundantly clear. Even clearer to Spenser, though, was the identity of the man who’d sent the message.
For weeks and months, Alex, the brother of her former partner, Derrick, and the man she believed was responsible for murdering her husband and leaving her for dead had been waging a campaign of psychological warfare. Leaving the bullet on her porch had been the latest salvo. A warning that he was coming for her.
Derrick was corrupt and deserved to be tried for his crimes, but the Bureau and US Attorney’s office were wrongly prosecuting him for Trevor’s murder. Spenser believed Derrick was being railroaded and had lodged her objections. She put them onto Alex but had no proof of her claim, so they’d dismissed it out of hand. And when they tried to pressure her into testifying on their behalf, she’d dug her heels in and resisted. She was not going to be bullied into participating in what she believed was a sham trial. Derrick had committed plenty of crimes… but not the one he was being prosecuted for, so she’d told them to pound sand.
And yet, despite her refusal to participate in that kangaroo court, Alex believed she was responsible for what was happening to his brother. In a series of threatening and intimidating phone calls, he’d told her if his brother went to prison, he was going to make sure she paid for it. And now, he was apparently in Sweetwater Falls. Although she hadn’t yet laid eyes on the man, there was nobody else in town she could think of who might leave a bullet on her doorstep.
Sure, she’d made some enemies who would probably be happy, if not overjoyed, if she stopped breathing. She was the town sheriff, so she’d come to expect a level of dislike for her. It was the nature of the beast. But she didn’t think there was anybody she’d wronged so badly they’d take active steps to help usher her into the next life. But the world was growing darker and more violent by the day, and people were snapping for all kinds of reasons. People seemed more willing than ever to pick up a gun and express their disapproval, so who really knew?
“I don’t think that bullet is going to do anything, no matter how long you stare at it.”
Spenser turned to see Ryker step out onto the back deck with a glass of wine in his hand and a sly look on his face. She laughed softly and slipped the bullet into her pocket. He stepped over to her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Spenser nuzzled against his strong, firm body, relishing Ryker’s warmth and solidness.
“I’m glad you agreed to stay here in the main house with me until this nonsense has all been sorted out,” he said, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.
“It’s not like you gave me much of a choice. I mean, you packed my bags.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to be demanding—”
“Yes, you were.”
The grin curled the corners of his mouth. “Okay, maybe I was. But if I was, it’s only because you’re sometimes way too stubborn for your own good.”
“I wouldn’t consider refusing to hide from this piece of garbage being too stubborn for my own good. It’s saying I’m not afraid of him.”
“You do realize you can send the same message without putting yourself at unnecessary risk, right?” he asked. “The cabins are a little isolated and remote. If something were to happen, I wouldn’t be able to get to you in time to stop it. Assuming I even knew something was happening to you, to begin with.”
“I know, I know,” she replied. “I’m already here. You don’t need to make your case again.”
“You sure? I can make it again if you’d like.”
Spenser laughed softly. “I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.”
“Whatever I can do to help.”
She took a sip of her wine, a seriousness settling down over her. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You’ve always been so good to me, and I appreciate it.”
“You’ve been just as good to me.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” he said. “If not for you, I might still be shut into this place. I’ve told you before that you’ve really helped me make a lot of progress in my life. You’ve helped me grow. Helped me lower the walls around me… at least a little. And I’m grateful for that. For you.”
Spenser gave his hand a squeeze. She had seen such incredible growth in Ryker in the time since she’d first met him. When she’d first moved into the cabin on his property, he’d been withdrawn and isolated. He didn’t like anybody—including her. But as they got to know each other, they’d found common ground in a familiar experience—his fiancée had been murdered like Spenser’s husband had. That shared grief had forged a bond between them was unbreakable.
And from there, their relationship had grown. Had become more personal, more intimate, and had helped them both grow and evolve as people. It had allowed them to stop identifying themselves as victims. It had shown them it was okay to live again. To open their hearts again. Showed them both that they were both capable and deserving of somebody else’s affection. And their relationship, as it grew, showed them they could both love again.
“What are you going to do about Ricci?” he asked.
Spenser stared off into the darkness that enveloped the land. The night was moonless, making it seem even blacker than normal, which, in turn, made it seem eerie. Visions of Ricci lurking in the thick wells of shadow around them, lining her up in the crosshairs of a sniper’s rifle, danced through Spenser’s head, making the skin along the back of her neck tingle.
“I can’t do much until he shows himself,” Spenser replied. “Right now, he’s making phone calls and leaving bullets on my porch. Even if I could link him to it, no DA would prosecute for what amounts to nuisance crimes.”
“It’s only a matter of time before he shows himself and tries to kill you,” Ryker said.
“Maybe. But until he does, I’m powerless to do anything to stop him.”
A crease formed between Ryker’s eyebrows as he frowned. It was a look Spenser was all too familiar with—he was about to say something she wasn’t going to like.
