Page 53 of Wolfsbane Hall
Frustration was painted across Frances’s face. “Perhaps we should be serious, boys. Lives hang in the balance.” It was a reminder to them that, while they might be behaving as if it were any other night, it was anything but.
James and Dean sat up straight at the words, their demeanors shifting. The men could often lack empathy and focus, but they still knew when to take things seriously.
Everett tried to smooth out his rumpled blue peacock suit, and Dean smoothed the lapel of his perfectly tailored prestige hunter-green suit. James fidgeted with the metal chain of his pocket watch, needing somewhere to put his hands. None of the men was particularly good at sitting still.
“Please, as you were,” James said.
Everett nodded. “We must figure out the motive, means, and opportunity.” But even Everett couldn’t take himself seriously in this role anymore. He snorted and took a flask from his jacket pocket—a different bottle than he’d been nursing all night—and took a large swig. “Who am I kidding? Everyone has a motive to kill my mother. She is a vile creature.”
Vivian tried to suppress her own laugh. “It is true, Aunt Lorraine is the biggest c—”
“Vivian, watch your mouth.”
“Yes, mother.”
“Not that it isn’t true,” Irene added. “We just don’t say those types of words in polite company.”
“Ah, so it’s okay in private.”
“Of course not.”
Frances rocked in her seat. “So, if everyone has a motive, perhaps we could discuss that?”
As the detective, Everett took up his position once more and said, ”Well, Vivian’s motive is apparent.”
“It is not.” She stood so violently that her chair crashed to the ground.
Every Ashbrook possessed some sense of a hyperbolic nature, but Everett and Vivian usually took the cake with their over-the-top natures.
Everett simply raised an eyebrow. “Lorraine is single-handedly responsible for not letting you dance ballet. The only thing you love. And she orders animals killed for her custom furs.”
“That doesn’t rise to the level of murder. Besides, that’s old news. She banned me from dancing years ago—and who in their right mind would kill over animal furs? I am devoted to my beliefs, but not that much.”
“You’d be surprised what people would kill over.”
“Your motive is much stronger than mine, and you know it.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest like a toddler on a triad. “You hate your mother.”
“Everyone hates her. That’s her entire persona.”
“But she killed your—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Everett growled.
“Motive is motive, brother.”
Frances leaned in and sat up straighter. “Who did she kill?”
Wanting to hear the answer, Celestine leaned in slowly as to not draw attention to herself, hoping they would continue arguing with each other and giving away the answers.
“It doesn’t matter,” Everett mimicked Vivian, and drew his hands across his chest. “If that’s my motive, then it’s also Dean’s.”
All heads swung in Dean’s direction. Normally, so silent and inviable. He wanted to remain so, but it was clear from the weight of the attention now on him that he couldn’t
“I am not involved in this.” Dean raised his hands. “Am I sad she’s dead? No. But this time, I have absolutely no reason to do anything.”
“But you have had reasons before.” Everett wasn’t letting his twin off the hook.
“You all have met our mother. Eventually, everyone finds a reason to want to kill her.
