“Well, you know where to find me.”
“I’ll see you soon, Layla.”
“Uh huh. I guess we’ll see if that turns out to be true,” she said blithely. “Toodles, Sheriff.”
Spenser stared straight ahead, burning a hole in the wall on the other side of the room with her eyes as Layla walked out, singing a happy, poppy song to herself as she departed. Spenser sat back in her chair and tried to silence the voices that were raging in her mind. It was the worst case scenario. This had gone off the rails and Spenser had no idea how to get it back on track. Or if she could even get it back on track after that disaster. She’d screwed up. Again.
She hated to admit it, but Layla was right. She couldn’t definitively tie her to Seth’s murder. Spenser been relying on that skittish, jumpy and nervous girl to fold under the pressure she was going to apply and give her a confession. She hadn’t anticipated the cold, calculating woman who’d parried her every thrust in such a calm, measured way. She hadn’t expected to find a predator lurking beneath the surface. Layla had played her like fiddle.
At least, now, Spenser could relate to what the woman had said about being made to feel absolutely humiliated.
“Dammit!”
With a growl that echoed around the small room, Spenser picked up the file that sat in front of her and fired it across the room, scattering the papers everywhere.
“She played me. I walked right into her trap like an idiot. Like some wet behind the ears rookie moron who had no idea what they were doing,” Spenser groused.
She and Ryker walked hand in hand through his burgeoning apple orchard as the sun slipped toward the horizon. The sky above them was aglow with fiery shades of red and orange, but to the east, the purple and dark blue hues of the encroaching night were spilling across the heavens.
“I think you’re being a little too hard on yourself,” Ryker replied softly.
“If anything, I don’t think I’m being hard enough on myself.”
The saplings had all been planted in neat, even, and orderly rows. It would be a while yet before the trees began bearing fruit, but Spenser imagined she could already smell the heady aroma of all those apples and couldn’t wait to taste the first harvest. Even more, she couldn’t wait for the first batch of cider that was going to be made in the small distillery he was building at the head of the orchard. Unfortunately for her, it was going to be a long wait for that and Spenser needed a drink or twelve sooner than later.
Annabelle walked beside Spenser, looking up at her with those big, soulful brown eyes that never failed to melt her heart and eased whatever troubles she had. Even now, though, those sweet doggy eyes only slightly dulled the sharp pain shooting through her. Mocha walked beside Ryker with a small bounce in his step, obviously wanting to engage Annabelle in a little play; however, the big Dane could always sense when Spenser was down and was always there, by her side, trying to cure what ailed her.
“You’re human, Spenser. And it’s not hard to see why you empathized with her so much,” Ryker said. “You went through a tremendous loss, like you believed she did. Of course you were going to be on her side.”
“I’m a cop, though. I should have seen through it.”
“You’re a real human with real feelings before you’re anything,” he said. “She recognized your pain and used it against you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t let myself get used like that. I can always separate the personal from the professional and don’t let what happened to me interfere with a case.”
He pulled a face. “Ummm…”
“Shut it. Not usually. And never to this extent,” she said with a guffaw.
Ryker grinned, his point made. “Listen, all I’m saying is that our experiences bleed over into everything. We can’t help it. That’s just part of the human condition. You thought you’d found a kindred soul in Layla and she got to you. You wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and there’s nothing wrong—”
“But as a cop, I can’t afford to give people the benefit of the doubt. I should be able to maintain my objectivity, which I obviously failed at with Layla. Failed spectacularly. My God, Johansen and Ricci are going to eviscerate me with this. They are going to absolutely gut me.”
“First of all, screw Johansen and Ricci. They’re irrelevant little peons not worth your time or thought. Second, one of the many reasons you’re such a good cop and have connected with the people in this town as much as you have is because of your humanity,” Ryker said. “You’re authentic with your emotions and you do give people the benefit of the doubt. And people love that about you. Believe me, I hear it all the time.”
She thought about her conversation with Mrs. Belton earlier today and heard everything the woman said echoing through her mind. It brought a small smile to her lips, but it quickly fell away under the suffocating weight of her failure with Layla.
“I mean it,” he said softly. “Even after that fiasco at the town hall, I hear people in the coffee house talking about how much they admire you and how much good you’ve done here.”
They walked through the fledgling orchard in silence for a few minutes as Spenser soaked in the peaceful evening all around them. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Spenser savored the scent of the soil and the trees that surrounded them, letting the silence of the land settle into her bones, bringing with it a sense of peace that had eluded her for a long time. Between the peace out there in the orchard and the company—human and canine, of course—Spenser was more grounded than she’d been in a while. She felt almost… good.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For letting me get it all out of my system then helping me reset a bit. I needed this.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Anytime.”
They stood in silence, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, bringing another day to a close while ushering in the night. Spenser closed her eyes again and tipped her head back, turning her face up to the sky, and let the soft breeze soothe her skin. She loved the silence. It was something she never had back east where the nighttime air was always filled with people screaming, horns blaring, engines revving, and all sorts of noise. Out there, though, there was nothing but the chorus of frogs and crickets and the occasional dog barking. It was the definition of peace. And it was a balm to her often turbulent and chaotic soul.
“So, is your pity party over?” Ryker asked, his voice tinged with a smile.
“For the moment,” she replied. “Though, I reserve the right to throw myself another one at any time, without prior notice.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “Are you okay?”
Spenser nodded. “Better than I was thanks to you and the pups here.”
“Good. So, what’s your game plan?”
“I hate to admit it, but Layla is a step ahead of me. Three steps ahead of me.”
“And how are you going to catch up?”
