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#Chapter 82- Motive
Ethan
“It’s all taken care of?” I ask, staring down the desk sergeant at the police headquarters.
She nods, averting her eyes from my dominant gaze. “Yes Alpha, Ms. Mechant
will be held at the sanitorium until her trial.”
“Good.” I answer briskly. “I want to be notified the moment a date is set, or if any new developments
arise.”
“Yes sir.” She replies obediently. I’m about
to walk away when the detective on my Mother’s case catches my attention.
“Excuse me, Alpha, do you have a moment to talk?” He asks, looking far too pleased
with himself.
“Assuming you have something of consequence to share.” I grumble, closing
the distance between us.
“Of course, sir.” The man agrees, leading me towards his desk, “I would never waste
your time.”
I follow him at a distance, muttering under my breath and trying to guess what fresh hell he might be
preparing to thrust me into. Taking the guest chair as he settles in front of his computer, I mentally count
to ten, urging myself to have patience.
“Well?” I press when he doesn’t explain why he pulled me aside, “What’s going on? Have you found
something?”
“As a matter of fact, we have.” He shares
with a smug smile. “As you know we collected a few boxes of evidence from your
apartment on the night of the murder,
including a number of items from your
mother’s room.”
“And?” I prompt him, wishing he would get to the point.
“Well my team has been going through that
evidence all week, and yesterday one of my
rookies came across a document we
previously missed – one which could explain your ex-wife’s motive for the
crime.”
My wolf’s hackles raise. If the obnoxious investigator doesn’t stop insisting Jane is responsible for my
mother’s murder despite my repeated orders to investigate Eve, I’m going to lose my temper. “And what
document is that?” I hiss.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHis smile widens, and he slides a piece of paper in a clear evidence bag across the table, and I snatch it
up, scanning the contents of the form. The logo of an out-of- territory laboratory is stamped at the top,
and beneath the address and clinicians.
names, are the words: DNA Test Results; For Personal Knowledge only. Below this is a table full of
obscure biological markers and alleles, with each of the quadruplets’ names and my own in the column
headers.
I don’t really understand the specifics, but I
know how to read a percentage easily
enough, and at the bottom of each column are the words, probability of paternity: 100
%.
It takes my brain a moment to catch up with what I’m seeing. I always felt confident that Jane was lying
when she told me the pups were Eric’s, but I think I held off having the tests run myself because deep
down I was afraid she was telling the truth. Apparently my mother had no such reservations. She had the
tests run without telling anyone, and now I have all the proof I need. The pups are mine – definitely,
unequivocally mine.
“Where did you find this?” I ask hoarsely, feeling more emotional than I would ever
admit to this man.
I suspect he takes the thick emotion clogging my throat as belief in Jane’s guilt, rather than the joy of my
paternity’s confirmation, because he’s grinning more broadly than ever. “It was in your mother’s
desk. We mistook it for a bill at first, it
wasn’t until someone went through all her
financials that we found it.”
“She must have been waiting to tell me.” I muse, wondering how soon after she received the results she
met her untimely
end.
“Or maybe she didn’t plan on telling you at all.” The investigator theorizes. “Maybe she was going to use
the test results to force
Jane to give you custody. Maybe she tried to confront her with it, and lost her life as a
result.”
“That’s quite a leap.” I grouse, still staring at the page with utter reverence. They’re mine. They’re really
mine.
“I don’t see it that way.” The investigator argues, “You’ve been telling me Jane didn’t have a motive to kill
Petra all along, but I’ve seen people killed for far weaker reasons than this.”1
“You really believe that Jane killed her
because of this?” I demand, waving the report in the air. “If that were the case, why did she leave the
report for you to find? If she knew this existed and was willing to kill to hide it, why didn’t she destroy it?”
“Maybe she couldn’t find it. Maybe she panicked and ran before she could look for it.” He ponders.
“But she made the call reporting my
mother’s death. If she ran out, she had to
run back in and she would have had ample
–
time to search before you arrived.” I counter, feeling more frustrated by the
minute.
“You’re biased Alpha.” The detective tells me, shaking his head. “You’re infatuated with her and you don’t
want to believe she’d do this, but all the evidence points to her.
You’re going to have to accept it sooner or
later.”
“Have you even begun looking into Eve?” I question. “Have you given a single thought
to anything I’ve told you about her.”
“With all do respect, Alpha, you run the
pack, not my department. I reserve the right to run my investigations as I see fit.” He grumbles defiantly.
1
“You only have that right as long as you remain on the force.” I remind him. “If I
were you, I’d think long and hard about how badly you’re willing to risk your job.”
He puffs up his chest, rife with indignation, ” Are you threatening me?” He exclaims in
outrage.
“I’m sorry,” I chuckle, though it sounds closer to a growl than a true laugh. “Was that not clear?” Standing
up and towering
over the insolent wolf, I continue, “if you
want to keep your job, I suggest you start
doing it a hell of a lot better than you have
been. I might not run your department, but I am your boss’s, boss’s boss.”
Ruffling his feathers, he tries to glower up at
me before chickening out, “I’ll look into
Eve.” He begrudgingly mutters.
“Good boy.” I taunt, patting his head.
I feel like I’m walking on air as I leave the headquarters building. I’m sure that’s not what the detective
intended, and maybe I’m being overly optimistic about the
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏminvestigation, but I can’t help being thrilled
about the DNA results. The entire walk to my
car, all I can think is that they’re mine, I
don’t even have enough animosity
remaining in my heart to bark at the
reporters lurking outside the apartment
when I get home.
When I get up to the apartment I can’t wait to see the pups – my pups. I want to squeeze them tight and
celebrate, and while I haven’t decided how I’m going to break the news to Jane, I know I’m going to have
fun doing it. I’m not sure if she believed she got away with her lie, but she’s certainly going to pay
for it.
“Jane?” I call when I enter, gently closing the door behind me. “Kids?”
All four pups appear at once, almost as if they were waiting for me. I open my arms to them expecting
the usual abundance of hugs, but to my surprise, they all hang back – even Paisley.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, searching their
sweet faces.
They exchange a few nervous glances, and eventually Paisley steps up to the plate, taking a deep
breath and stepping forward, though she still hangs just out of reach.
“Daddy, did you put Mommy in time out forever?” Paisley asks me, her green eyes
wide.
I blink, her words not really clicking in my head, “What do you mean, angel?”
Paisley sighs heavily, her lips condensing into a pout. “When you were married, did
you lock Mommy up? IS that why she left?”
All of my elation from a few minutes ago evaporates. My heart sinks into my stomach. How do they
know? I think frantically, wondering how on earth they learned this detail about our past. In the end I
have to assume they overheard one of our
arguments, or some other conversation not meant for their young ears.
However the truth is that it doesn’t matter how they found out. They know now, and they expect an
answer. They’re all looking up at me expectantly, and I know the
moment I share my story the DNA test won’t matter anymore. They’re all going to hate me, even sweet
Paisley. Still, I refuse to lie to them. I have to take responsibility for my actions, and I owe it to Jane to
acknowledge what I put her through – no matter the cost
to me.
Part of me wants to ask the kids for one last hug before everything changes, before I share what they’ll
never be able to forgive.
Instead I take a deep breath, and prepare to
lose everything I hold dearest.