“Meeeeerp!”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I put my drink down and hurried to do just that. Once the tube was devoured, and I’d spent ten minutes figuring out where my energy drink had gone, I finally sat down at my desk to finish preserving the flowers from my mother’s funeral. I was using resin for some, drying some for potpourri, and turning the rest into inlays for a scrapbook I was making about Annie. Not Ophelia, butAnnie.No frills. No performance. Just the best mom I could have ever asked for.
I was sure that, as the days continued to march on, I’d find other ways to turn the remnants of our last goodbye to her into keepsakes, but for the moment, I let my mind spread out and my hands move.
After all, I had an hour until my next client—a video call—and there wasnoway I’d lose track of time again.
Chapter 3
Paul
Fool Me Once, that’s a Murder, Fool Me Twice, that’s a Conspiracy
“I…I can’t believe this is real,” Penelope murmured over video call. I was right there with her. Everything in the world seemed like such a blur. From the moment I’d called the cops, to waiting for them to arrive, to answering their questions, all the way to my siblings arriving one by one and having to explain to them what happened, everything had been so surreal. Like I was moving through a dream that just couldn’t be possible.
Was Luther really gone? Was my father? I couldn’t get the image of him, reposed calmly in his chair like so many times I’d seen him before, out of my head. It almost would have been normal if it weren’t for that silver blade sticking out of his chest and the mess of blood and limbs everywhere else. I’d washed my hands about a dozen times, and I could still feel the heavy, far too stiff weight of my brother’s limb hanging from his signet ring.
“I need a drink,” Jackie said. “Can an orphan get a drink around here?”
“Jackson!” Chris snapped, but my youngest brother merely shrugged dully.
“What? Is it too soon to mention that? Mom’s been gone for my entire life and now Dad’s gone too. So that’s what we are. Orphans.”
God, I wished my youngest sibling had a modicum of tact. Luther would have known how to handle this. Although he had become busier with his duties as heir, he’d always handled the emergencies with tact and grace. Some would say it wasn’t very alpha-like, but those people were idiots. Luther’s kindness and quietness were not weaknesses, and even if we’d drifted apart in adulthood, I’d always appreciated that he trusted us siblings enough to show that vulnerable part of him—even after Father reminded him that he needed to develop a certain demeanor to be the next figurehead of the family.
“We’re going to have to ask you to wait until we’ve finished our questions before you ingest any alcohol,” one of the detectives said, drawing my attention back to them. It seemed a bit preposterous that I could have forgotten they were sitting on the couch in our drawing room like they belonged on the VanMarche estate.
“What, like a shot of whiskey is going to get a wolf shifter drunk?” Jackson laughed, standing up.
Normally, I would just roll my eyes at his antics, but he was starting to get under my skin.
Peace.
Serenity.
Control.
I repeated the mantra over and over in my head. This was a time when I needed control and composure more than anything else, even if it felt like I was sleepwalking through what had to be the worst nightmare I’d ever had.
“Still, we insist.”
“Whatever.” Jackson dragged out the word, but thankfully, he sat down.
The detective on the left began to ask questions. He’d introduced himself and showed me his badge, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall his name. It was something generic, but all I could recall was that he was a bear shifter and a detective.
“I’m going to ask each of you your whereabouts at the time of the murder, and whether any of that can be corroborated.”
“Your officers already asked me when they first arrived,” I murmured, not really wanting to rehash everything all over again. Because doing so would put me right back in that room.
“Yes, we are aware, but we just want to hear it again. Especially with all of you gathered to give your own statements.”
“Shouldn’t you be separating us to make sure we don’t affect each other’s report?” Penelope asked. She was right, of course, but for once, couldn’t she just let things be a little simple?
Peace.
Serenity.