Page 43 of Beware of Dog (Lean Dogs Legacy #6)

Cass didn’t expect to meet the “shark” A.D.A.

handling Jamie’s case, only to glimpse her from the gallery during the trial.

But Melissa called at the beginning of April and said, “Slight problem.” She offered to swing by and pick Cass up to take her by the attorney’s office, but Cass demurred.

She wanted Raven with her, her calm and poised rationality in all circumstances, and of course when she hung up, and Shep asked who had called, the answer had him jackknifing upright off the couch, where he’d been watching a movie with his head in her lap. He was coming, too.

She met Melissa in a waiting room full of potted ferns, flanked by a fashion mogul and a biker who’d woken up on the grumpy side of the bed. The young, male receptionist goggled at them behind the round lenses of his glasses and said, “Um…Ms. Green?”

“That’s me,” Cass said. “I’m here to see Ms. Curran?”

He blinked, and then lurched up from behind the desk. “Yes, yes, I’ll see if she’s ready.” He ducked inside a frosted glass door etched with: Assistant District Attorney Alicia Curran . The blinds were drawn on the other side, so Cass couldn’t tell anything about the woman she was about to meet.

“Which one of us is making him shit his pants more?” Shep asked Melissa, who rolled her eyes.

“Oh, Raven, for sure. Carl had tickets to the de Jardin runway show at Fashion Week this year.”

Raven smiled, pleased.

Carl returned, holding the door for them. “If you, um – if all of you?...want to go in…?”

Raven took the lead. “Thank you, Carl.”

His cheeks pinked as they walked past him into the office.

Cass’s initial impression was of someone entirely no-nonsense, without time for frills or novelties.

The bookshelves were built in, loaded with fat tomes and three-ring binders.

The rest of the furniture was sleek glass and chrome, the sofas at the seating area smooth gray leather.

A single white orchid rested on the coffee table. No magazines, no knick-knacks.

The woman behind the desk was likewise crisp: simple pale blue suit, pale hair pulled up into a tight bun, makeup minimal but effective. She glanced up from a slim silver laptop, spotted them, and then pulled off her reading glasses and sat back in her ergonomic chair, legs crossed.

“Detective Dixon.” She had a low, smoky voice. “I said I wanted to talk to Cassandra Green. Not the entire Green family.”

“Rest assured, Cassandra’s the only Green,” Raven said, and strode up to the desk to offer her hand. “Raven Blake, Cassandra’s sister.”

Curran regarded her a moment, then accepted the shake, firm and brief.

Raven settled into one of the two visitor chairs and patted the one beside her.

“I’m Cassandra,” Cass said, taking a seat. She had no idea if introducing Shep was a smart move, so she didn’t.

Curran gave her a brisk up-and-down look, twitched her mouth once to the side in an unreadable display, and then shifted her gaze up to Shep. She pointed. “You. You’re the man in the video.”

Oh no , Cass thought with a lurch.

“Beg pardon?” Raven asked.

Curran gave a slow, disapproving shake of her head, and shifted her attention to first Raven, then Cass.

“Sawridge—that’s the Blackmons’ attorney—introduced the Blackmon security footage during discovery.

Thankfully, Judge Symon tossed it, and rightfully so, because it has zero bearing on the rape case.

But Sawridge’s line of defense is that he and Jamie had rough, consensual sex, and she cried rape to save face with her parents.

They’re claiming that the Lean Dogs”—she shot a glance toward Shep, his cut no doubt—“are trying to frame Sig because you”—she pointed at Cass—“don’t like him. ”

“That’s bullshit,” Shep said, the same moment Cass let out a protesting noise.

“Yes,” Curran said, “it is, but we have you on video slamming his face on a countertop and beating him with a pistol, Mr. Shepherd.” Whatever Shep’s face did, it prompted Curran to add, “Yes, I know who you are, and I can guess why you’re here.” She tipped her head in Cass’s direction.

Cass said, “But you just said the video was thrown out.”

“It is. Judge Symon ruled it’s inadmissible as proof against the rape…

but he’s allowing Sawridge to move forward with his frame job defense.

The plan is to put you on the stand, Cassandra, and if you open the door to the Lean Dogs, then the video can be introduced as evidence that the club holds a vendetta against Sig, and therefore has motive to frame him for rape. ”

“Bull shit ,” Shep said again, with feeling, and Cass twisted around to see he had both hands linked at the back of his neck, jaw tense, ready to hit something.

“Yes,” Curran said, drily, “it is bullshit that I’m going to have to defend a Lean Dog at trial.”

Shep gathered a breath to respond, and before Cass could tell him to stuff it, Raven snapped her fingers overhead, silencing him.

“Ms. Curran,” she said, in the voice that always left assistants scrambling and yes, ma’am ing. “I think we can all agree that Shepherd is a less than ideal complication in this case.”

Melissa snorted.

“But,” Raven continued, “we’re all working toward the same goal of convicting Sig Blackmon for rape. Why have you called us down here?” There was a challenge in her voice, in the cool slant of her brows, and Cass watched something like respect touch Curran’s expression.

“I wanted to see and speak with Cassandra for myself.” She pinned Cass back in her chair with direct, unforgiving eye contact. “So that I can prep her for trial. The defense is going to call you up to the stand.”

“But I’m not a witness.”

Curran shook her head. “Not to the rape, no. You’re an outcry witness, and I can question you about what sort of shape Jamie was in, what you saw. But that’s not why they’re calling you. They’re going to ask you what you think about Sig, and then ask you about your Lean Dog ties.”

Shep muttered something unintelligible and started pacing.

“I won’t say anything,” Cass said, heart pounding as she imagined it: the courtroom, the slick defense attorney, Sig watching smugly from the defense table. “If he asks about the club, I won’t say anything about Shep, or that video.”

“So you’ll perjure yourself?”

“She can plead the fifth,” Melissa said.

“But won’t that just make me look guilty? And what about Shep? Are they going to press assault charges?”

“They haven’t yet,” Melissa said, and her expression, when Cass sought it, was uncertain.

“Listen,” Curran said, sighing, some of the rigid professionalism bleeding out of her posture. “Judge Symon is old family friends with Sig’s mother.”

“Damn,” Raven muttered.

“He should recuse himself, but he’s not going to. He’s also not going to rein Sawridge in like he should. This defense is ludicrous, but they’re going to throw everything they have at it.”

Shep’s hands landed on the back of Cass’s chair, fingers drumming. “I shoulda taken you to the goddamn hospital that night. Gotten a tox screen, put it on record.”

Cass reached up over her shoulder and laid her hand on his, stilling it. “Sig drugged me at a party,” Cass said. “About a week before he attacked Jamie. I told her he was awful, but she didn’t believe me. And now…”

Curran sat up. Clearly, she hadn’t heard this story. “Can anyone confirm he drugged you?”

“Only Shep.”

“I picked her up that night,” he said, grimly. “She was high out of her mind.”

“But you don’t have video or lab evidence to the fact,” Curran said, deflating again.

“Nah.”

“Shit.” Curran half-turned her chair, so she gazed out the window. “I’m going to do my best,” she said, “because I always do. But I’m going to try to get Blackmon to cut a deal before trial, because I see an acquittal on the horizon.”

“That’s terrible,” Raven said, “but now you have me worried about my sister’s wellbeing.”

And Shep’s , Cass thought. Mostly Shep’s. The way Raven reached over and touched her knee said she understood.

“They’re going to paint the Lean Dogs as villains,” she said, “and use you, Cassandra, to do so.”

“They can try,” Cass said. “I won’t give them anything useful. You said they’ll wait for me to open the door? Well, then, I won’t open it.”

Curran shook her head. “Sawridge is tricky.”

“So am I.”

Curran turned her head, gaze shrewd, assessing. After a long beat, she said, “You know, there’s a certain way women in your…situation…avoid incriminating outlaws.”

“Oh,” Raven said, straightening.

“What?” Cass asked.

Curran smiled, small and grim. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Old enough,” Raven said, “to make her own informed decision. Thank you, Ms. Curran. I believe we’ll go and take your hint.”

~*~

“Spousal privilege,” Melissa explained in the lobby ten minutes later, to which Raven nodded. She rubbed at the place between her brows and shook her head. “No attorney or judge on earth can force a wife to testify against her husband.”

“Oh,” Cass said, and then it really hit her. “ Oh .”

“Fuck,” Melissa muttered, and paced away from them, eyes shut like she was fighting off a headache.

Raven, however, didn’t look anguished. “It will of course need to be a mutual decision on both your parts, and not one taken lightly. There’s time before the trial: we can have a proper wedding.

Invite all the boys. I would think Maverick would let us have it upstate. ” She looked between them, expectant.

Meanwhile, Cass’s brain was imploding.