“All evidence to the contrary,” Dearborn said. “While I appreciate that some of you, at least, are loathe to jump to conclusions, it seems obvious to me what happened.”
“And what’s that?” my father asked.
Dearborn gave my father a weary look, as if bored by his refusal to accept the obvious. “I’m told the victim expressed concern about shifters, including Sixkiller, during tonight’s session. They had a public altercation at the party in which blows were exchanged approximately an hour before Tomas was killed. Sixkiller stewed over it, and his anger got the best of him. That, you all have to admit, is the simplest explanation for Tomas’s murder. ‘Killer’ is in the shifter’s name, for god’s sake.”
I glanced at Connor. His eyes were on Dearborn, and the fury on his face wasn’t any better masked than that on his father’s.
“It’s a family name,” Gabriel said shortly, magic drifting in the room as he spoke. “There’s history behind it that has nothing to do with this.”
“Noted,” Dearborn said coolly.
“You believe this was an attack on Tomas,” my father said, “and not on the talks generally.”
“Tomas is the only one dead,” Dearborn said. “And despite the fairies’ intervention at the peace talks, which was handled and concluded, the talks continued unimpeded. What purpose would be gained from killing one delegate here?”
“Shifting our focus?” my father suggested. “Creating animosity between the delegates to preclude the possibility of peace? Many prefer war.”
“Occam’s razor,” Dearborn countered. “The simplest explanation is usually the correct one.”
“Usually,”my father qualified. “Perpetrators are aware of that concept, too, and can alter their behavior to fit it.”
“If Riley did it,” my mother said, and slid an apologetic gaze to Gabriel, “and I’m not saying he did, maybe he didn’t have a choice. Maybe someone made him do it. Someone drugged him. Or magicked him.”
“He’ll be tested for drugs,” Dearborn said. “But a positive drug test would hardly excuse homicide.”
“Magic might be more likely,” I said, and thought of the vampires’ reaction to finding Tomas. “Riley looked really dazed when I found him. He seemed confused, kind of out of it. And the crowd’s reaction was also weird. It makes sense that they’d be shocked, that they’d be angry. But they started fighting, and not just Riley. They fought me.”
Maybe that’s also why I hadn’t been able to hold back the monster.
“He wouldn’t kill anyone,” Connor insisted.
“And your friend is entirely innocent? He has no violence in him?” Dearborn’s gaze was cutting.
“If you have questions about the background of a Pack member,” Gabriel said, “direct them to me. I assume you’re aware of Riley’s history given the question, and the fact that he overcame substantial odds to become the man he is today.”
“Or he didn’t overcome them,” Dearborn said, turning off therecorder and slipping the screen back in his pocket. “But that’s the purpose of the investigation. To find the truth.”
“What happens now?” Connor asked.
Dearborn rose. “He’ll be taken in and questioned by the CPD and our office, per the standard protocols. We’ll keep him at the supernatural facility until his preliminary hearing, after which he’ll be remanded back into our custody. Bail is unlikely given the nature of the crime and his”—he looked at Gabriel—“background.”
There was scuffling in the hallway as five CPD officers moved Riley through the hall, hands tied awkwardly at his back. Riley’s expression was absolutely deadly.
“Theo, accompany them back to the office.”
Theo glanced at me, then headed for the door, his expression as grim as Gabriel’s had been.
“You should postpone tomorrow’s session,” Dearborn said to my father. “Presuming anyone wants to continue the talks, given the breach of the peace.”
“Perhaps, instead of focusing on Riley,” my father said, “we should consider who would have wanted that breach?”
“It hardly matters, given the deed was done,” Dearborn said. “As to the delay, announce it’s not because we’re afraid of further attack, but because we wanted to honor the delegate who was killed. It is... an opportunity for reflection and consideration of the reason for the talks.”
“Good spin,” my father said dryly.
Dearborn seemed to miss the sarcasm and walked to the door. “We’ll be in touch.” He stopped and turned back, adjusting his cufflinks before looking up. “I expect none of you will attempt to interfere with our investigation. That would be viewed by myself and the mayor as a violation of the spirit of cooperation my office has come to embody”—he lifted his gaze to my father— “and the specific deal previously negotiated with Cadogan House.This is our matter to handle, and handle it we will. Without interference.”
With that, he disappeared.