“Take me home,” she murmured. “I need something to drink. And my dog.”

Ryker laughed softly. “Your wish is my command.”

Hand in hand, they walked across the park. The hair on the back of Spenser’s neck stood up and goosebumps marched across her skin again. She couldn’t see him, but she knew Alex was still out there lurking in the shadows.

She knew he was still out there watching them.

“You didn’t see them, Ryker. You didn’t see the way they were looking at me in that auditorium,” Spenser said. “All that was missing were the torches and pitchforks.”

He laughed softly and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, allowing her to draw strength from him. Spenser laid her head on his shoulder and stared into the flames that flickered, casting shadows that writhed like living things across the walls as the fire popped, sending a cloud of sparks up the chimney. Her eyes drifted down to Annabelle and Mocha. Both dogs were curled up on thick blankets in front of the fireplace.

If it wasn’t for the anxiety twisting her insides, making every muscle in her body tense and her mind spin, it would be a wonderfully domestic scene.

“This will blow over, Spenser,” he said gently.

“I wish I was more confident it would,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter that they had no proof. When Johansen was rattling off his lies, I watched the people and could see that some of what he was saying was sticking.”

“Don’t underestimate the people around here. They’re a lot smarter than you think and not nearly as dumb as Johansen and Ricci are banking on,” he said. “They will cut through the garbage and see the truth of it all. I guarantee you that.”

A wan smile touched her lips. “I don’t think that’s something you can promise.”

“Sure, it is. Let’s not forget you have a lot of people in this town who respect you,” he said. “And those people are going to be working their butts off to make sure you get re-elected.”

Spenser gave his arm a squeeze, wanting to take heart in his words, but all she could see and hear were the outraged murmurs and hostile glares from the crowd. Ryker got to his feet and carried their empty wine glasses into the kitchen. A few moments later, the dogs raised their heads as he walked back into the room, hoping he’d brought them something. With a quiet laugh, he tossed the dogs a treat, which they happily wolfed down.

The dogs settled, Ryker reclaimed his seat beside Spenser and handed her a glass of wine, which she accepted as readily as the dogs had taken their treats. She took a swallow of the wine and settled back onto the sofa, nuzzling closer to him.

“Thank you,” she said. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was silent for a moment, his face clouded over with a thoughtful expression, then turned to her, his face etched with worry.

“I’m sorry for jumping into the middle of all that back in the park,” Ryker said. “I don’t want you to think I need to fight your battles or think you can’t take care of yourself.”

“I don’t think that at all. You’ve gone out of your way to make sure I know you believe I can take care of myself.”

“When I saw you in the park with him, I… I was scared. I was scared he was going to do something to you. I couldn’t just sit by.”

“I get it. And if I’m being honest, I was scared, too, at first,” Spenser agreed. “But he wasn’t armed with anything but a smug attitude. He’s banking on ruining my reputation.”

Ryker sat back and pursed his lips, looking lost in thought. He turned to her after a beat.

“Could you get the Bureau—”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “That’s not going to happen. I wouldn’t play ball with them, so there’s no way in hell they’re going to help me. I’m sure ASAC Harris will take extra pleasure in knowing I’m going down in flames. No, I’m on my own here.”

Ryker gently squeezed her hand. “You’re not alone. Not even close.”

“I appreciate you. More than you may realize.”

He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, looking deeply into her eyes as he used his thumb to brush a lock of hair away from her face. Spenser’s heart beat drunkenly in her chest, and despite all the chaos going on around her, a silly smile creased her lips. She loved that no matter what was going on and how deep in the dumps she was, Ryker always had just the right words to pull her from the depths.

“What is Kyra Foster getting out of this whole arrangement?” Ryker asked. “I mean, she’s set to inherit her family paper, so why get mixed up with Johansen and Alex?”

“Who knows? Maybe she gets some kind of notoriety from being the one who breaks the stories that sink me? Maybe she has bigger plans and wants to hitch her wagon to somebody like Johansen, who’s always got his eyes on a bigger prize. Ingratiating herself to him now could be a ticket to bigger and better things for her,” Spenser answered. “Or maybe she just gets off on destroying other people’s reputations.”

Ryker frowned. “This just seems to be getting deeper and deeper. Are we sure we’re not overthinking things here?”

“If anything, I’m not sure we’re thinking things through deeply enough,” she replied. “Johansen is a planner. There are probably layers and layers to this whole thing that we’re not even seeing yet.”

Ryker flashed her a grin. “Now, I think you’re overthinking it all. As despicable as it is, I think it seems pretty straight forward. You really need to get out of your head.”

The corners of Spenser’s mouth flickered upward. “Yeah. It’s possible.”

“No, definitely.”

“Anyway, I need to figure out what I’m going to do about this all.”

“What we’re going to do about it all, you mean?”

She raised Ryker’s hand and gently kissed his knuckles. “That’s what I meant.”

The great room was filled with the sound of the fire crackling and popping—and the gentle snoring of their two large dogs. As serene as the scene was, though, Spenser found no solace in it. She found no peace. A tempest was rampaging through her soul with the force of a hurricane, stripping away and breaking down any sense of comfort she would normally have.

“Just remember, you can’t control what Johansen does. You can’t control what the council does or what the people think,” Ryker finally said. “You can only control what you can control. And that’s you and how you react… and how you do your job. I still believe that will speak louder than any of the noise those clowns are making.”

He was right. It burned Spenser’s butt to admit it, but he was right. Not about her job performance speaking louder than their mudslinging necessarily, but about only being able to control herself and how she did her job. All she could do was hope that at the end of the day, Ryker was right about it, speaking for her. At the moment, all she could do was focus on finding Seth Hamill’s killer. Nothing else mattered.

“I also want to watch your back out there with Ricci running around,” Ryker said.

“He’s more interested in destroying my career than in killing me anymore.”

“For now,” he replied. “But I know guys like that—so do you. Eventually, trying to ruin you professionally will lose its charm, and he’ll come after you.”

“Perhaps,” she said, although she’d already had the same thought. “Either way, I’ll keep my eyes peeled. I promise.”

Ryker leaned down and kissed the top of her head as Spenser snuggled closer to him. She closed her eyes and tried to drown out the cacophony of doomsaying voices reverberating through her head and tried to focus on the moment. On enjoying a quiet evening in with Ryker and the dogs and soaking it all in.

Thanks to those dark voices whispering in the back of her mind, Spenser suspected there were going to be few enough opportunities to do so in the coming days.