Chapter 22: Paws in the Palisades

Lacey's POV

At nine o'clock, four hundred people stood on the park lawn to watch a Doberman be judged.

Camille had hired a stage, a banner for the pet food company, and a very large screen.

She stood at the center in a white dress, holding her pale pink mug.

Her cameraman's lens was pointed at her.

Dina stood at the foot of the stage with her phone held high.

Her screen said: LIVE, Whitfield Bakes, 61,204 watching.

"Don't stop," I told her.

"I don't even blink."

The Animal Services officer sat at a folding table with her clipboard, looking tired and kind.

Gerald sat beside Silvan on a short leash and passed the first three tests.

Strangers petted him. A man dropped a tray. The officer pushed his bowl away, and he waited.

"Calm. Responsive. No aggression," the officer said. She wrote each word down in front of everyone.

Camille's smile did not move, and her voice rose over the speaker.

"But the real test is the other dog," she said, with her hand on her heart.

"The dog he hurt. Lacey, would you bring Truffle up?"

Four hundred heads turned.

I had Truffle in my arms, in two harnesses and a vest.

His leash was wrapped twice around my wrist.

"Before I do," I said, "may I submit evidence?"

The officer lifted her head.

"That's what this is for," she said. "Go ahead, Ms. Whitfield."

"Don't," said Camille. "It's a stunt."

"Ms. DeGraff, you filed the complaint," the officer said. "Let her."

Silvan's assistant came up the aisle with her tablet.

She handed a cable to the stage technician.

Camille took one step toward the technician.

"It's an edited video," she said, loudly. "It's been tampered with."

"It carries the manufacturer's seal," the assistant said. "And a list of every viewer."

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