3. Paul
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.
Control.
“Do you believe that hearing your siblings’ statement will affect yours, Miss VanMarche?”
“Of course not, but it’s standard procedure?—”
“We’ll decide what’s standard procedure or not, ma’am,” the detective on the right said. The fact that a middle-aged man was being so condescending to my sister—boringly normal as it was—burrowed even further under my skin than my youngest brother’s antics.
However, I wasn’t as quick on the draw as Jack.
“You don’t talk to her that way,” he said, his voice sounding more serious that I’d heard in over a year. “She’s basically a genius, and a hot-shot lawyer who’s literally changing the world out here. A little respect would go a long way.”
“You don’t need to lap at her feet, Jackie,” Chris said bitterly from where he was pacing. “She’s not coming back no matter how much you beg.”
PEACE.
SERENITY.
CONTROL.
“Apologies, my partner meant no disrespect,” the detective on the left said.
Were they doing some sort of good cop/bad cop routine?
The idea made my teeth itch even more than they were already.
My inner wolf longed for nothing more than to snap at the mortal man and their shifter detectives who were in our territory.
If this was how they treated the most powerful shifter family on the East Coast, I hated to think how they interacted with regular civilians.
“We just want to get to the bottom of this and make sure justice is served to your family. Now, if you wouldn’t mind starting from the beginning...”
I thought I was used to the somewhat tangled dynamics of my family—after all, it had been that way my entire life—but in the two hours it took for all of us to say what we needed to say, give our alibis, as well as our contact information for said alibis, I realized my family was really fucking annoying.
Between Chris acting like everyone was mortal enemy number one, Penelope shielding herself from the horrors of the situation with her legalese and being objective about the situation, and Jack having the attention span of a squirrel looking for his next fix, I was utterly exhausted and my nerves frazzled.
My father had often told me I was the most even-keeled of all my siblings, that I was the one who had inherited my mother’s patience, but I’d never experienced it as starkly as I did during what was objectively one of the most stressful times of my life.
“Finally, they’re gone!” Jack said with a sigh before beelining straight to the liquor cabinet in the transitional hall between the drawing room and the social kitchen. “Anyone else want to drown their sorrows?”
“My God, Jack, could you be any more pathetic?” Chris snapped, his canines already out way farther than they should be. But Jack just looked at his second oldest?—
Wait.
That wasn’t right anymore, was it? Luther was gone so...
“Oh no,” Jackie said in exactly the type of mocking tone that a twenty-five-year-old stunted man would use. “Is big bro going to yell at me for drinking the no-no juice?”
“You’re ridiculous. Our father is dead!”
“Yeah, and so is Luther! But you haven’t even mentioned him once!
I know you were always jealous and gunning for his position, but we just lost two family members, so yeah!
I’m going to drink about it! It’s not like I can actually get intoxicated for longer than five minutes, so excuse me for wanting a second to be numb and catch up with the bombshell that was just dropped on us! ”
“Guys, come on,” Penelope said with a sigh. I was fairly certain my sister was more even-keeled than I was. Father had always been reticent to acknowledge that, though, because it meant his most practical child had moved to the other side of the world. “This isn’t the right time for this.”
“Says the woman in another country who doesn’t have to deal with this in person,” Chris continued.
PEACE. SERENITY. CONT ? —
“Just because I’m not physically there doesn’t mean I’m experiencing the loss of our father and brother any less,” Penelope said. Her calm helped me regain my emotional footing.
I couldn’t say when I’d last needed so much mental grounding. I’d had quite the temper during puberty, frustrated with my position and feeling like a joke down to my name, but I’d calmed down since then.
Or so I’d thought.
“Whoa! Looks like the old man was holding out. He’s got Macallan Black single malt here!”
“Are you really robbing our father right in front of us right now?”
“Are you really gonna have an apoplexy about it?”
“Big word there. Did you read that on the back of a liquor bottle?” Chris sputtered, face darkening. “Things are going to change once I’m alpha, and if you think that?—”
“Once you’re alpha?” Jack spat back, his eyes glinting with rage. “Already chomping at the bit when our father’s body isn’t even cold yet and Luther’s body is in a lab right now being puzzled out from the rest of their security detail! Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Jackie, Chris,” Penelope tried. “This isn’t?—”
“Of course I’m fucking serious! Unlike you, I’ve had to be serious my entire life, instead of fucking off to try getting wasted with whatever hole or drug of the day!”
“Enough!” I roared, louder than I had been in a really long time. There was no peace, serenity, or control anymore. There was just the tangled mess of feelings in my gut and the future stretching out like an endless, dark cloud.
I stood there, breathing raggedly, and my two warring siblings at least had the wherewithal to look shocked.
“Sorry, Paul,” Jackie began, but I held up my hand for him to stop.
And yet, even with him falling silent, I found I wasn’t ready to speak yet. That white-hot, burning surge of energy was still pinging around me, chewing up any civility I had and whispering that everything would be better if I just made them hurt like I was hurting.
I took off my glasses, which I mostly used to look more professional since I didn’t technically need them, and cleaned them on my shirt. The simple task kept my hands busy and allowed the real Paul to get back to the helm.
Unsurprisingly, it was my sister who spoke first. “Are you okay, Paulie?”