Page 43 of Beware of Dog

She was headed for Art History when someone called her name.

She turned to find Melissa standing against a lamppost, hands jammed in the pockets of her wool peacoat, badge flashing gold where it was clipped to her lapel, clear for all to see.

“Campus security asked if I was new here and needed help finding my classroom,” she explained with an eyeroll as Cass joined her. She flicked her badge. “They thought I got this at Party City until I flashed them my ID.”

Cass grinned. “Poor you. So youthful.”

“Uh-huh. Which way are you headed?” When Cass pointed, she fell into step beside her.

When she didn’t say anything at first, Cass said, “If you’re looking for Jamie, she’s taken a few days off to go home and be with her family.”

“I know. We already called her, and Rob’s gone to talk to her and her parents. He’s better at that sort of thing than me.”

“Ah. Which means this is about the club.”

A sideways glance proved Melissa’s face had scrunched up in apology. “Officially, the Blackmons aren’t going to press charges for either of Shep’s assaults on Sig.”

“Either? There was more than one?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Cass took Melissa’s wrist and guided her off the path to stand in a bed of bark chips, a bare-branched tree throwing lace shadows over them. “No. What did he do? When?”

“I don’t figure it’s gossip since Pongo said he heard it straight from Maverick. But there was a problem with…” She lowered her voice. “One of the dealers day before yesterday. Shep showed up as backup, and the buyer causing a big fuss was Sig and some of his friends. They wanted to negotiate price or something, and according to the dealer, Shep got in Sig’s face, said he thought he told him to stay away from you”—said with a meaningful lift of brows—“and then punched him in the face. Bloodied his nose.”

“Oh,shit. Why?” Cass groaned. “Shep, you bloodymoron.”

Melissa’s expression said she agreed wholeheartedly. “Like I said: they don’t know Shep’s name—well, they know Ned called him ‘Shep,’ but they don’t have his full name—and they aren’t pressing charges against him specifically, no doubt thanks to Maverick’s intervention. Pongo says he’s talked to the parents directly.”

“Christ.”

“But they know the club is mixed up in this. Sig mentionedyouby name.”

Throughout this entire ordeal, Cass hadn’t been fearful for herself. A chill stole over her now. “He did?”

Melissa sighed and rubbed at her forehead, as though a headache was forming there. “It’s not exactly a stretch of the imagination. A guy in a Lean Dogs cut starts threatening Sig, warning him away from you. Those were easy dots to connect.”

Cass’s pulse started to pound; her heart felt heavy in her chest and it seemed to draw all the blood out of her head, leaving bright sparks behind. “Yeah, but…but what does this mean?”

“I spoke with Carson Blackmon myself and advised him that talking about you in the media would only muddy his son’s case and wouldn’t do anything to engender any public support. It would just make Sig look like a jerkoff who’s bullying girls.”

“Oh, so you’re helping them?”

“I’m helping you by allowing those assholes to think I’m helping them. I’m in a tough spot here, Cass,” she said, growing stern. “The Blackmons are accusing my department of working in conjunction with the Lean Dogs to frame their son.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Blackmon’s using words like ‘conspiracy.’ He said, and I quote, ‘It makes sense a bunch of blue-collar cops would be on the side of the hillbilly bikers when there’s a chance to frame a wealthy, privileged boy for an unthinkable crime.’”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She sighed again, and tucked her hair back when the wind swept it across her face. “I’m not upset with you,” she said, softening. “I know none of this was your idea. Shep was…well, Shep was being a good guard dog, but not with any kind of finesse.” Her gaze turned thoughtful as she studied Cass’s face. “But he wasn’t doing it on anyone’s orders, and if he had been, he definitely wouldn’t have had clearance to go into the Blackmons’ home and lay hands on a little rich boy flying his colors.”

Cass nodded. She knew that was true. But her pulse was still racing, and she didn’t know if she’d like the rest of what Melissa had to say.

“He did what he did on his own. It was an emotional response.” She tilted her head a fraction, hair blowing out to the side, blue gaze shrewd and too-knowing. “He really cares about you a lot.”

Inwardly, the statement filled Cass’s chest with warmth. It sent pleasant shivers down her arms and back. But it frightened her a little, too; cut too close to the bone of all that she’d been thinking and feeling lately. “If you say so.” She missed the mark on flippant. Her voice trembled at the edges.

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