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And to be honest, they’ve done a good fucking job of that. I haven’t thought of it until this moment, and that’s only because Karen is here to bring us to the council. She doesn’t even need to say a word. We all silently stand to follow her. A sudden somberness comes over us and will cling to everything we are until the killer is uncovered.
She meets my gaze with a wince and nothing but pity in her eyes. Things have escalated so fast, I have to wonder what it’ll mean for the fate of Heat Paradise and the rest of this season. What it’ll mean for me and completing the Knotting Ceremony with my pack.
Originally, Karen said they only invited the twins to meet with the council to answer their questions. They quickly realized I’d have to come too because there’s absolutely no way Andrik or Jedrik would let me out of their sight. Not with a killer on the loose. I’m sure they’ll have something to say about the rest of my men tagging along too, but they’ll simply have to deal.
Where I go they go. I refuse to let them be in a position to be the next victim.
Karen leads us to a room I’ve never been in, although that’s not surprising. There are a lot of rooms I’ve never seen in this mansion. When we enter, we find the council members sitting around a conference table. Their conversation cuts off abruptly, and they all stare at us with varying emotions on their faces.
“Andrik and Jedrik Hart. Thank you for coming,” Mr. Baldwin, the head council member, says. He stands and buttons his suit jacket. I’m not sure why, other than to present a more powerful stance. “We appreciate the dedication you’re presenting in guarding the omega, but we don’t need the rest of you here. This conversation is classified.”
“All due respect, sir, but we’re staying with Verity. The omega,” Emmett speaks up. The fire in his eyes gives away his feelings about them simply calling me the omega instead of my name. “We also have insights into the investigation, having helped the Hart brothers with finding evidence.”
Mrs. Violet lets out an exasperated sigh. “Just let them stay. They’ve all been involved in some form or another. I simply want to get to the bottom of this so we can move on.” She sounds exhausted. Nothing like her on camera personality. I’d almost feel bad for her if she weren’t a prime suspect on our list.
“I agree,” another one of the members says. He leans back in his seat and gestures for us to join them at the table.
Jedrik pulls out a chair for me and helps move it closer to the table after I sit in it. His fingertips graze across my back, bringing me comfort, and then he takes the seat next to me. Andrik chooses the spot on my other side, sandwiching me between my enforcers. He rests his hand on my knee under the table where his thumb moves back and forth soothingly. The rest of my guys sit on either side of them.
“Fine,” Mr. Baldwin relents. He unbuttons his suit jacket and sits. “We need you to give us a rundown of what evidence you found, and any theories you might have on who the suspect is. As soon as we’re finished here, anything you’ve collected will be rushed to the lab for processing.”
Before my twins have a chance to present their report, the door opens and Mr. Emerald wheels a cart into the room. It’s laden with silver serving trays. He places them in front of each council member, removing the domes with a flourish that allows the steam to escape with a curl.
Artfully arranged on the platter is a full course meal, but it’s so gourmet that I’m not able to even identify what it is. There’s some kind of meat with melting herb butter on top, some green vegetable-esque side, some whipped potatoes with chunks of something in it, a bowl of soup with floating blobs, and a dessert in a ramekin with a browned top. There’s even a flame shaped pat of butter on the plate. Chef LeBlanc sure brought out all his skills when preparing this meal for the council. It’s a perfect opportunity for him to shine for the members who govern society.
Before he’s finished, Mr. Emerald sets a basket of baguettes in the middle of the conference table. The butter on their plates now makes more sense. Before he walks away, he uses a pitcher of ice water to fill their glasses. He has a white towel draped over his arm and uses it to catch the condensation from falling on the plates of food.
When he’s finished, he moves the cart to the side of the room and stands silently next to it, resting his hands at his sides. I’m distracted from watching him when Mrs. Violet says, “Gentlemen, please go ahead.” She moves the food around on her plate with her fork before putting it down and rubbing at her temples instead, like she’s getting a headache.
Andrik and Jedrik lean forward so they can have a silent conversation, communicating who will go first with a single look.
Mr. Baldwin drags the bowl of soup in front of him and picks up his spoon. “Is this chestnut mushroom soup?” He dips his spoon into the mixture, stirring up what I now know are chunks of chestnuts and mushrooms. Yuck.
“It is,” Mr. Emerald replies.
The councilman slurps a spoonful and gives an appreciative sound. Mr. Donaldson, who is sitting next to him, brings his utensil to his nose, takes a taste, and makes an ew face.
Andrik nods to his brother, the two coming to an agreement, and turns to address the council members. He starts with us finding Matthew’s body, giving a detailed recounting of the evidence found and where he was actually killed. Then Jedrik takes over, giving the information about Chad, and when they get to Charles’ body, they switch back and forth.
Through their recounting, I watch the council members. The councilwoman, Mrs. Kensington, sitting next to Mrs. Violet, turns green and drops the rest of her bread into the bowl of soup. The details of alphas being murdered turns her stomach. I can’t blame her in the least. Who thought turning this into a dinner was a good idea?
Mr. Pierson, who’s sitting at the end, chows down on the meat first, and when he goes for the soup, he returns the spoon to the bowl without even taking a bite. Honestly, I wouldn’t have even gotten that far. It looks too reminiscent of eyeballs floating in the liquid for my taste, especially with the twins talking about the details of murder.
I’m startled from my people watching when the alpha I haven’t paid attention to yet knocks his bowl, spilling the contents on the table. Mr. Emerald is quick to wipe the mess with his white cloth, cleaning the liquid before anyone can say a word. He promptly returns to his silent place against the wall, and to be honest, I’d forgotten he was there.
Mr. Baldwin wipes his lips with a napkin. Sweat beads against his forehead, and I have to wonder what’s spicy enough to give him this reaction. “So, tell us. Who do you think did it?”
“Personally, I think there’s good evidence of it being someone on the kitchen staff, if not Chef LeBlanc himself,” Jedrik says, making Kyle pin him with a hard stare. “He was seen acting suspiciously with spices on several occasions, and he has a list of ingredients penned in a file for Chad. Not to mention he crossed the alpha’s photo out with an X after he was killed. Of course, I can’t say this with any certainty when the evidence hasn’t been tested. We have the killer’s fingerprints and DNA was found under one of the alpha’s fingernails.”
A few of the council members nod their heads like they agree it sounds plausible. Kyle leans forward in his chair, gaining everyone’s attention. “Actually, I talked to Chef LaBlanc, and those were notes of which seasonings Chad seemed to have a bad reaction to. He had terrible chronic diarrhea, and the chef was working to help him figure it out.
“Plus, there was no evidence with the bodies that pointed to the chef, only some cooking quirks. It’s not like anyone was killed with food poisoning.” He shoots Jedrik a look like he feels hurt the alpha is accusing a fellow chef.
“So, who do you think it was?” Mrs. Kensington asks.
Kyle seems surprised they’re asking him, and I kind of am too. Especially after they didn’t want him to stay. “I think it was Karen Heinz who killed Chad in the study. We found the yellow shards of her crushed pen that she always had with her. And then she suddenly had a new red pen the next day. Not to mention there was that heated argument she and Mark Pruno had before filming.”
There’s a sharp gasp that draws every eye to Mrs. Violet. “I can’t believe you would accuse my assistant. I don’t care what evidence was there, she was with me during the time,” she sniffles, “Matthew Slate was killed. It couldn’t have been her.”
