Most women…hell, mostpeoplehe knew would have lost their shit a long damn time ago. But not his Cass.
Yes, she’d gotten upset the other day when they’d walked in to find her house a mess. An understandable reaction given she’d spent the two nights prior to that day in jail for a crime she didn’t commit.
But ever since then—even today, of all days—Cassie had kept herself together and in control. During the funeral, she’d faced the snarky stares and rude as fuck whispers head-on. Even kept her cool when her asshole ex-father-in-law started in with his shit.
The impressive woman had been rightfully upset when they first saw the paint on her house but had seemed to give herself fully to the moment when they’d begun kissing in the SUV.
From the time the cops showed up to now, Archer had kept a close eye on the mouthwatering attorney, watching as Cassie had stood with her spine straight and her emotions in check while talking with the police. Now here she was, cutting through Van and Chase’s conversation with ease, handling herself like a pro with some of the deadliest men he knew.
And damn if her strength and determination didn’t make him want her that much more.
Placing a hand on the small of Cassie’s back, Archer began guiding them toward the two-car garage. The others fell in line seamlessly, and after Cassie used the newly installed keypad next to the garage door, the small group soon made their way inside.
For the next two-and-a-half hours, the six of them sat in Cassie’s living room, going over everything they knew up to this point. She’d joined in the conversation, helping fill in areas where the guys had questions as they went over everything they knew up to that point.
The initial poisoning days earlier to Alistair Montgomery’s cemetery outburst, the shotty police work that had shone a light on no one other than Cassie being the killer, today’s senseless and hurtful act of vandalism… Lucky’s disheartening discovery that every other house on the block—including the one right across the street—had either “lost” or deleted their doorbell systems’ video feed within minutes of the attack on Cassie’s house.
Every. Single. One.
Her chickenshit neighborswere either too scared to get involved, or they believed the lies the media’s been spinning and were on the side of the prosecution where Cassie was concerned.Either way, unless her attorney could get a judge to grant a court order for the neighbors’ missing feed, it was going to be virtually impossible to I.D. the vandal.
After that frustrating turn of events, they started going down the list of possible suspects who might have a reason to wish Cassie and/or Russell harm. Her former in-laws, past clients who could be harboring a grudge against her for their own legal troubles…even Lori and Ed Yates made the cut.
Having been friends with the couple for ages, Cassie had been quick to deny the possibility the couple could be involved. Her opinion of the matter was understandable, given how close she and the other woman were. And with Ed having been Russ’s best friend and business partner, Cassie had refused to entertain the idea that either one would ever be involved in something so nefarious as murder.
There were, however, a few possibilities when it came to some of Russell’s past clients. Since he and Ed took on the bigger, more serious corporate clients, that meant those they’d represented stood to lose a great deal.
Archer had learned a long damn time ago, all roads typically led to money. Unfortunately for them, the names of legal clients Lucky had run also failed to gain any traction toward finding the real killer.
Between digging into the possible suspects’ social media accounts, financials, and any other avenue they could think of, each of the heavy hitters involved in this one all seemed to have solid alibies for the night Russell Montgomery was murdered. And thanks to the storms that had blown through during the time leading up to—and including—that night, Cassie’s cheap-ass security system had been disconnected, leaving no electronic evidence of who, when, or how the perpetrator gained access into her home.
More dead fucking ends.
More frustrated than he’d felt since helping start Eagle’s Nest Securities, Archer looked across the living room to the seat where Cassie had been sitting. Twenty minutes earlier—after having realized they’d come to an infuriating standstill—Cassie had excused herself to go upstairs to change out of a dress that was far more tempting than it should have been.
Presuming the discouraged woman needed to be alone, to try to process the shit week she’d had—and yeah…even the loss of a man she’d once loved—Archer had encouraged her to take her time. When the sound of running water started up a few minutes later, he assumed she’d decided to shower away the day, as well.
That water wasstillrunning. She was up there right now. Naked. Wet.
Because she’s upset, dickhead. What’s wrong with you? Stop thinking about how badly you want to drive balls deep inside her and keep your head on the case where it belongs.
Not exactly an easy task after that mind-blowing kiss.
“We should probably head out.” Logan pushed himself to his feet. With his hazel gaze landing on Archer’s, their leader said, “I shot a text to one of the guys I used to work construction with. He’s bringing a couple others over first thing in the morning to clean up the mess on Cassie’s porch.”
Archer’s chest warmed with appreciation for his friend. “Thanks, man. Getting that shit off of there will make her feel a lot better, for sure.”
“No problem.” Logan gave a slight nod. “In the meantime, the guys and I will continue working things from our end while you keep on Cassie. She thinks of another name or anything else that might be of use, give one of us a call.”
Lucky, Van, and Chase also stood.
“I will.” Archer and his trusted team began walking back down the hallway leading to home’s entrance. Turning right, he bypassed the front door, opening the one on his right, instead.
“You’ve got my number,” Van muttered deeply as he walked past to enter the garage. “You or your girl need anything, use it.”
Archer didn’t bother wasting his breath by arguing semantics with his friend. Van wasn’t a stupid man, and neither were the other three. If the tall bastard had picked up on Archer’s ogling Cassie when they’d been standing on her front lawn, chances were Logan, Lucky, or Chase had, as well.
Maybe even all three.