Dark Rivers of the Heart

are going to get nasty for us real fast once we get there."
        Spencer finished his sandwich, fries, and milkshake, sharing no more of anything in spite of the mutt's reproachful expression. He gathered up the paper debris and put it in one of the bags.
        "I want to make this clear to you, pal. Whoever's after her-they're damned powerful. Dangerous. Trigger-happy, on edge-the way they shot at shadows last night. Must be a lot at stake for them."
        Spencer took the lid off the second vanilla milkshake, and the dog cocked his head with interest.
        "See what I saved for you? Now, aren't you ashamed for thinking bad thoughts about me when I wouldn't give you more fries?"
        Spencer held the container so Rocky wouldn't tip it over.
        The dog attacked the milkshake with the fastest tongue west of Kansas City, consuming it in a frenzy of lapping, and in seconds his snout went deep into the cup in quest of the swiftly vanishing treat.
        "If they had that house under observation last night, maybe they have a photograph of me."
        Withdrawing from the cup, Rocky stared curiously at Spencer. The mutt's snout was smeared with milkshake.
        "You have disgusting table manners."
        Rocky stuck his snout back in the cup, and the Explorer was filled with the slurping noises of canine gluttony.
        "If they have a photo, they'll find me eventually. And trying to get a lead on Valerie by going back into her past, I'm liable to blunder across a tripwire and call attention to myself " The cup was empty, and Rocky was no longer interested in it. With an amazing extended rotation of his tongue, he licked most of the tiless off his snout.
        "Whoever she's up against, I'm the world's biggest fool to think I can handle them. I know that. I'm acutely aware of that. But here I am, on my way to Vegas, just the same."
        Rocky hacked. Milkshake residue was cloying in his throat.
        Spencer opened the cup of water and held it while the dog drank.
        "What I'm doing, getting involved like this… it's not really fair to you. I'm aware of that too."
        Rocky wanted no more water. Ills entire muzzle was dripping.
        After closing the cup again, Spencer put it in the trash. He picked up a handful of paper napkins and took Rocky by the collar.
        "Come here, slob."
        Rocky patiently allowed his snout and chin to be blotted dry.
        Eye-to-eye with the dog, Spencer said, "You're the best friend I have.
        Do you know that? Of course, you know. I'm the best friend you have too.
        And if I get myself killed-who'll take care of you?"
        The dog solemnly met Spencer's gaze, as if aware that the issue at hand was important.
        "Don't tell me you can take care of yourself. You're better than when I took you in-but you're not self-sufficient yet. You probably never will be."
        The dog chuffed as if to disagree, but they both knew the truth.
        "If anything happens to me, I think you'll come apart. Revert.
        Be like you were in the pound. And who else will ever give you the time and attention you'll need to come back again? Hmmm? Nobody."
        He let go of the collar.
        "So I want you to know I'm not as good a friend to you as I ought to be.
        I want to have a chance with this woman. I want to find out if she's special enough to care about… about someone like me. I'm willing to risk my life to find that out… but I shouldn't be willing to risk yours too."
        Never lie to the dog.
        "I don't have it in me to be as faithful a friend as you can be.
        I'm just a human being, after all. Look deep enough inside any of us, you'll find a selfish bastard."
        Rocky wagged his tail.
        "Stop that. Are you trying to make me feel even worse?"
        With his tail swishing furiously back and forth, Rocky clambered into Spencer's lap to be petted.
        Spencer sighed. "Well, I'll just have to avoid getting killed."
        Never lie to the dog.
        "Though I think the odds are against me," he added.
        In the suburban maze of the valley once more, Roy Miro cruised through a series of commercial districts, unsure where one community ended and the next began. He was still angry but also on the edge of a depression.
        With increasing desperation, he sought a convenience store, where he could expect to find a full array of