The Alpha Men's Secret Club 4: Intrigue: A Shockingly Hot BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance
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THE ALPHA MEN’S SECRET CLUB 4: INTRIGUE
A Shockingly Hot BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance
By Dawn Steele
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright 2014 by Dawn Steele
Cover art by Dawn Steele
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dawn Steele is the New Adult/romance/shifter romance pen name of Aphrodite Hunt.
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THE ALPHA MEN’S SECRET CLUB 4: INTRIGUE
1
In the NYPD police station, Kate was separated from Rust, who was being interrogated in another room. Detective Lance Horner intended to keep them apart so they wouldn’t corroborate their stories, it seemed.
Not that she had anything to corroborate. She was bewildered and scared. Teddy Mitchell. Murdered! They didn’t even tell her the details of the murder. They probably wanted to tease it out of her. Oh, really? If you said you weren’t there at the crime scene, then how would you know where he was?
She sat there on the grey metal chair at the grey metal table in the small interrogation room with grey walls. At least everything was as drab as her mood. She could only imagine what questions they were asking Rust.
Where were you last night, Professor O’Brien?
What were you doing with Ms. Penney?
There was a very public argument involving you and Teddy Mitchell at the party. Someone who was at the party reported you. Did you kill Teddy Mitchell afterwards?
Of course, she knew what had happened after Rust had fucked her by the tree. He had transformed. And then what had happened? Did he meet up with Teddy Mitchell? Did he maul Teddy Mitchell to death?
She was very, very worried. She didn’t know how much Rust retained of his human sanity when he transformed into the beast. Was he even aware of anything around him except his own blood lust?
There was nothing she could do but wait her turn. She could only hope that this was what Lance Horner said it would be – a questioning. Not an arrest.
Because when someone like Teddy Mitchell was murdered, there would be no stones left unturned – even if the entire shifter community collectively paid to keep it under the radar.
2
In another room, Detective Lance Horner was questioning Rust O’Brien.
Lance was divorced. He smoked and drank entirely too much, which kept him calm and sane in his line of work. He had seen them all. Lowlifes and professionals and Wall Street stockbrokers – all professing innocence.
I didn’t do it.
I was somewhere else.
I have an alibi!
Rust O’Brien was different. He didn’t profess his innocence at the outset, for one. In fact, he seemed distressed. As distressed as a man like him could seem, that was.
Lance studied the man in front of him. Rust O’Brien was handsome. Too handsome for his own good. He was the type of man who would grace the cover of GQ – he had that natural grace and sleekness – although he was currently dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. In front of them was Teddy Mitchell’s file. Lance did not open it. He had memorized the details of the case prior to the interrogation of the chief suspect, as was his modus operandi.
Rust O’Brien himself had an interesting dossier. Lance had made mental notes:
PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY.
A DOCTOR OF PSYCHIATRY, ADDITIONALLY.
PARENTS LIVE IN NEW YORK.
RECENTLY DISGRACED IN A SEX SCANDAL INVOLVING A COLLEGE STUDENT.
WAS IDENTIFIED BY AN ANONYMOUS INFORMER ON A PUBLIC PAYPHONE WHO ONLY DESCRIBED HIMSELF AS ‘A WAITER AT THE PARTY’ TO HAVE HAD AN ARGUMENT WITH TEDDY MITCHELL OVER THE AFFECTIONS OF SAID COLLEGE STUDENT, KATE PENNEY.
Lance remembered the transcript of that phone call.
“Hello? Is this the NYPD?”
“Yes, this is Officer Stuttgart speaking.”
“You’ve discovered the body of Teddy Mitchell this morning. Someone leaked it out on YouTube. It’s all over the news now.”
Pause.
“May I know who is this, please? Can you state your name?”
“I have information. I was at that party on the night before the murder.”
“What were you doing at the party, sir?”
“I was . . . a waiter. I saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“Saw the whole argument.” Pause. “Between Teddy Mitchell and Rust O’Brien. They were fighting over the girl.”
“Can you describe the argument, please?”
“It was one of those mixer parties, if you know what I mean. Teddy Mitchell was very taken by the girl, Rust O’Brien’s girlfriend. At first, Rust O’Brien was willing to go through with it as threesomes went. But the girl chickened out at the last minute and said ‘no’. Teddy was livid, and Rust was ready to fight him.”
“Did they fight?”
“No. Teddy’s father, Aaron, intervened.”
“Were there any words exchanged?”
Silence.
Then: “I couldn’t hear if there were any.”
“Could I have your name, please?”
“Afraid not. I hope you’ll find the murderer.”
Click.
Lance had no qualms that the informer was who he said he was – someone at the party. Someone with possibly a penchant to make mischief for the perpetrators concerned. So the party was a rave. He wasn’t surprised. When a billionaire like Aaron Mitchell was involved, anything went, it seemed.
Still, there were plenty of guests at the party. Additionally, Teddy Mitchell left his father’s party early in his Lamborghini. No one was sure if he left with anyone. Anything could have happened to him afterwards.
Anything could have happened to ensure that his naked body was found in the woods behind his father’s house the next morning, gouged in the chest as if an animal had ripped him apart.
The body was sent for an autopsy, of course. Meanwhile, Lance was going to leave no stone unturned.
Rust O’Brien had no reason to murder Teddy Mitchell – unless it was in the heat of the moment. Rage-fuelled killing. Lance Horner was no stranger to that motive. Rust might have followed Teddy out of the mansion, tracked him down and kil
led him early the next morning.
Rust O’Brien stared at Lance Horner, his green eyes alight. There was an undercurrent of something powerful and magnetic about the man, Lance observed. A danger brimming under his smooth skin and pale flesh. Innocent or guilty, Rust O’Brien was a man to be reckoned with.
“Where were you last night, Dr. O’Brien?”
“It’s Professor O’Brien.”
“Beg pardon . . . Professor O’Brien.”
Pause.
“I was at Aaron Mitchell’s party.”
“Was anyone with you?”
“I brought a date. She’s outside. She had nothing to do with any of this.”
“We’re asking routine questions, Professor, nothing more. What kind of a party was it, Professor?”
Rust’s face was composed.
“A rave,” he said.
“Are you used to going to such raves?”
“Occasionally.”
“How do you know Aaron Mitchell?”
“My parents know him. They move in the same circles.”
“So he invited you to his rave?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know Teddy Mitchell?”
“No. But I’ve heard of him.”
“You met him for the first time last night?”
“Yes.”
“Was there an argument?”
Rust paused to seemingly think. Then: “I wouldn’t exactly call it an argument.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“We were . . . at the rave. Doing whatever people do at a rave.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on explicit details.” Lance favored Rust O’Brien with a significant look. “You can tell me what happened. In my line of work, I’ve heard it all, believe me.”
Rust sighed. “My girlfriend and I were at a . . . bondage rack. I wanted to let her experience public exhibitionism. So I tied her up and displayed her. We weren’t the only ones doing that there. The whole party was . . . catered towards that sort of thing.”
He halted, trying to find the words. Lance sensed the Professor was not a man usually at a loss for words, and that he was hiding something – trying to put it in a different context.
This was getting interesting.
“Go on,” he urged Rust.
“Teddy was the first to come up. He was admiring my girlfriend. He asked if he could touch her.”
“And what did you say?” Lance was non-judgmental when it came to that sort of thing.
“I asked her permission.”
“And what did she say?”
“She didn’t say anything for a while. And so he touched her.”
“Touched her where?”
Rust paused again. This was clearly difficult for him. “Her genitals.”
“And she didn’t react?”
“She reacted favorably to his touch.”
“How?”
“She moaned.”
“And?”
“He wanted to fuck her. He was getting ready to fuck her.”
And you were OK with that? Lance thought wryly. But he didn’t say anything.
Rust went on, “And then she said ‘no.’”
“Did you say anything?”
“I don’t recall saying anything then.”
“How did Teddy react?”
“He . . . ” Rust visibly swallowed “ . . . didn’t react well. He wanted to fight me. We moved away from Kate. But before he could land a punch, his father came onto the scene and stopped him.”
“How?”
“His father had words with him. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but it had something to do with letting the guests be. He asked Teddy to go back to the house.”
“And Teddy went?”
“Yes. His father apologized to us, and asked us to stay.”
“And you both stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see Teddy again that night or the next morning?”
“No. That was the last I saw of him.”
“What did you do for the rest of the night?”
“My girlfriend and I went to a more secluded spot. And we made love.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So you have only your girlfriend to confirm your alibi?”
“Yes.”
“How long did you make love for?”
“I don’t know. I don’t time these things. Maybe . . . for half an hour.”
“And after that? What did you do?”
“We . . . ” Rust’s face remained masklike “ . . . talked a little bit. And then I . . . left her.”
“Why?”
“I had to take a leak.”
“After you took a leak, what did you do?”
Pause.
“I took a walk.”
“You didn’t go back to your girlfriend?”
“No. We . . . said some things to each other. I needed time to think.”
“What things did you say to each other?”
“I don’t remember exactly. But it was . . . about how I was possibly hurting her in our relationship.”
“How did she react to that?”
“Not well. That’s why I left her for a bit.”
“Where exactly did you take a walk, Professor O’Brien?”
“In the woods. It’s part of Aaron Mitchell’s estate.”
“How long did you walk?”
“I don’t remember. Maybe at some point . . . I sat down to rest. Maybe I slept.”
“In the woods?”
“Yes. I had to mull things over.” Rust’s expression suggested that he knew he had just revealed he had no alibi but could think of nothing to offset the truth.
“Was anyone with you?”
“No.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“No.”
Lance sat back in his chair.
He said, “Don’t leave town. We might have to ask you further questions.”
3
Kate was trembling when Lance Horner walked into the room.
“Are you cold, Ms. Penney?” he said solicitously.
“A little.”
She drew her jacket around her. She was afraid. Afraid that she couldn’t corroborate with what Rust had told the detective. She was afraid that she would be the cause of his arrest. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to him because of what she did or said.
“I won’t take much of your time, Ms. Penney.” The detective pulled the chair on the other side of the desk and sat down. He folded his hands. “I’m just going to ask you some routine questions.”
Kate nodded. She wished she had rehearsed something – anything – with Rust earlier, but they had come to the station in the police car and they were surrounded by detectives.
“Where were you last night, Ms. Penney?”
“I was . . . at a party.”
“With Professor O’Brien?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know Professor O’Brien?”
“He’s my Professor at the university.”
“Is he also your lover?”
“Yes.”
“Was it Aaron Mitchell’s party you were at last night?”
“Yes.”
“Were you with Professor O’Brien?”
“Yes.”
“What sort of party was it, Ms. Penney?”
“It was . . . a rave.”
She was nervous as hell. Did she pass so far?
“Is this the first time you’ve been to a rave?”
“Yes.”
“Who invited you?”
“Professor O’Brien. I was invited as his date.”
“Do you know Teddy Mitchell?”
“No. I have only . . . read about him in gossip tabloids.”
“What have you read?”
“That he’s a billionaire’s son . . . and heir.”
“What else?”
“He’s a playbo
y.” It was true. Teddy Mitchell was one of the most notoriously famous playboys on Earth.
“Was last night the first time you met him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say to you?”
Kate hesitated. She didn’t know how to twist the truth. “He admired me at first. Then when he started to be more intimate . . . I refused him.”
“What happened then?”
“He insulted me. He called me – ” Kate faltered.
“Go on,” Lance said gently.
Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. “Fat.”
“Was that when the argument came about?”
“No. That was later.”
“What did you do after Teddy called you ‘fat’?”
“I didn’t do anything. I walked away.”
“Were you upset?”
Kate hesitated again. The detective was trying to give her a motive to kill Teddy, she realized.
“Yes, at first,” she replied. “But then I decided not to think about it. I mean, I’ve been called fat before, and I survived.”
“Yes, indeed. Did you tell Professor O’Brien about the incident?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want him to c-create a scene.”
“Does Professor O’Brien always create scenes, as you put it?”
“No!” Kate was alarmed. What had she just said?
Lance smiled.
“You just have to tell the truth, Ms. Penney. Don’t overthink your answers. If your boyfriend didn’t do anything wrong, then neither of you has anything to hide.” He narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “Unless . . . you are not certain yourself that he is truly innocent.”
“I – ” Kate could not think of anything to say to this.
“When did you see Teddy again, Ms. Penney?”
“It was later . . . when Rust m-mounted me – ” Kate blushed furiously.
“It’s all right, Ms. Penney. I’ve seen and heard far more unseemly things.”
“When Rust mounted me on the rack. W-we . . . sometimes play games like these.”
“Were there a lot of people around you?”