Page 95 of Beware of Dog

“Everybody’s got those these days.”

“Not that house. And not that one.”

“’Kay. So?”

“The cops can cavass. Might pull something off the cameras.”

Shep glanced again toward the house the girls had gone inside, itching to cross the street and join them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Raven; God knew she could make a case for anything better than just about anyone he knew. If anyone could convince this girl’s family to put their faith in the Dogs, it was the inimitable Raven Blake. Any woman who’d heard of her, or seen her on a billboard, a magazine cover, or online Fashion Week photos, would be doubly impressed by the real article in her living room.

This itch was purely personal, and not specific to this house, and this moment. Every day, it was harder to drop Cass at campus and ride off. He saw a threat in every beanie-wearing, weed-smoking kid shuffling along the NYU sidewalks. In his own life, as a single man, a Lean Dog, a vet with a temper, he’d kept a sharp eye out for the usual suspects: mob, bratva, cartel, garden variety gangbangers. If someone decided to take a swing at him, it was going to be someone from the underworld. No civilian was stupid or brave enough to target a Lean Dog.

But they were stupid, and nasty, and twisted enough to target a woman. To spike her drink at a party; to lure her to a house, charm her, and then force himself on her. To hire thugs to sit outside her house and terrify her family. All these idiot kids he’d always looked through and past, considering them harmless…and now he saw a predator in all of them. It opened up a whole new level of fear with regard to Cass. He wanted to swaddle her in bubble wrap and never let her out of the house.

He also wanted to march into her friend’s house, get in the parents’ faces, and ask them if they understood just how damned lucky they were that Cass was in their daughter’s corner. Did they realize how special that was? How loyal she was? How scrappy and determined? Did they appreciate her support at all?

He could drive himself crazy with that line of thinking.

“Hey,” Topino said, and when he had his attention, jutted his chin toward the sidewalk.

Pongo and Contreras walked toward them, the contrast between cut and suit coat comical in the bright light of morning.

When they were in range, Pongo said, “We talked to a guy up the block who was out walking his dog. He said he’s noticed the van that we saw, and that it’s been here every day for the past week, slow-cruising around the block over and over again.”

Contreras said, “He says they park, and sometimes get out and walk around the van. Latino, lots of tats.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to find out which gang they’re a part of,” Topino said.

Contreras nodded. “I’ll check with Organized Crime, see who the hot players are right now.” He surveyed them, hands on his hips, expression wry. “But I’m assuming you guys have your own sources.”

Pongo’s smile was sunny and innocent.

Shep’s was not. “You catch on quick, Detective.”

Contreras gave the long-suffering sigh of a parent. “If I put uniforms on this block, they’re not gonna have any reason to slap a Dog in bracelets.Right?”

“Right,” the three of them echoed, in unison.

~*~

“We’ll cooperate,” Mr. Simpson finally said. “Jamie will testify.” He and his wife looked completely defeated, their shoulders bowed, their heads half-bent. Mrs. Simpson rubbed at her nose, eyes damp.

“You’re making the right decision,” Raven said, soothingly, hand pressed to the tabletop.

“For you?” Mrs. Simpson said, one last jab.

Raven cocked her head, expression pitying. “Sig Blackmon is nothing to me or my family. You’re making the right decisionfor your daughter. You’d do well to remember that when my family is sticking their necks out for you.” She pushed back her chair, stood, and the meeting came to an end.

Melissa hung back to speak with them a moment, but Cass followed Raven, with one last fruitless glance Jamie’s direction. They stepped out of the dining room, into the front hallway; through the storm door, Cass could see the bright morning beyond, and, even more welcome, Shep standing at the foot of the front steps, hands flexing at his sides as he scanned the yard, the street, the houses across the way. She wanted to get back home, get into her real clothes; she’d missed her first class of the day, so maybe she could talk Shep into lunch at his favorite greasy spoon diner.

Hurried footsteps sounded behind them. “Cass, wait!”

Raven paused ahead of her, hand on the latch, and turned back to judge Cass’s expression.Your decision, her look said.

Keep going, Cass almost said, because standing here now, at the threshold, her man waiting for her, she was suddenly and deeply angry with Jamie. She knew Jamie wasn’t to blame for Sig’s cruelty, his deviousness, his willingness to hire people to frighten her family…

But Cass had warned her about Sig, all those weeks ago. Told her he was no good. And at no point throughout this process had Jamie stood up on her own two feet, stood her ground, and faced what was happening bravely.

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