Chapter 31

The next morning, I get up early so that I can sit down with my coffee for a good hour before I have to leave for work and really think about the situation I've found myself in. I have to do something, I know that, but the threads of what's going on have become confusing. I need to untangle them.

I stand for a minute at the kitchen sink, admiring the way the early morning light beams through the window and lights up the walls of the kitchen with a golden glow. I'll miss this villa if I ever have to leave, the kitchen especially.

I made Kent get me a plain drip coffee maker, because god help me if I'll ever figure out the espresso space machine that he loves so much. Honestly, that thing looks more like it belongs at NASA than on my kitchen counter.

The coffee maker gurgles, and I pour myself an extra large mug before plopping down at the table and flipping open the notebook I bought to help me keep all my information and ideas straight. I decide to make a list of what I know and go from there.

I know that Charles is the one who orchestrated the attack on the gang and got Ty shot.

I know that Charles is bullying Daisy about her potential position as Alpha's heir.

I know that Daisy and Joel are planning to discredit Marcus with his father, or to at least try.

And I know that someone is tampering with the Alpha's health. I know that for sure, deep in my bones. I can't prove it, but I do know it. I write it down and underline it twice, then lay my pen down on the table and take a deep sip of coffee.

That's probably where I should start, I think, picking up the pen and tapping it absentmindedly on the page. It's the most pressing issue, because it involves the health of my patient. Despite everything that's happened, I still think of myself as a doctor first.

It's time to do some more digging at the Alpha's mansion. I drain my coffee and head up the stairs to brush my teeth, trailing my hand along the banister as I go. I'm going to have to think about how to play this, though – I can't afford to get caught snooping.

Really, I've been extraordinarily lucky so far that I haven't been caught listening at doors. I might have a reason to be in the Alpha's mansion, but I don't really have any good excuses for why I should be wandering around the place all the time.

I could probably have played off my presence in the family unit when I overheard Daisy's conversation with her maid, but it was still a very risky move. My story could easily have fallen apart if anybody got suspicious and looked too closely into my movements.

Really, I don't have much reason to be anywhere except the wing with my office and the Alpha's office, not unless I'm personally attending to the Alpha himself. I can also get away with being in the kitchens, but nobody gossips beyond the basics in the kitchen – too many listening ears to share anything of real value.

Still, it'll be worth paying attention when I'm in the kitchens. Someone might let something slip that doesn't seem important to them, but that will ring an alarm bell for me. I can't count on that, though. I need to find a way to get more information without anyone realizing that's what I'm doing.

I brush my teeth and head back downstairs to grab my purse and my car keys. As I pull out of the driveway, I begin to formulate a new plan.

At my desk in the Alpha's mansion, I pull out my notebook again and review my list as the computer monitor wakes up. My only strength here – my passkey for making inquiries and wandering around the building – is that I'm the Alpha's doctor.

So, I need to find a way to get information on what's going on with the Alpha in a way that will seem innocent to anyone who just knows me as the Alpha's physician.

I also need to be careful that I don't further raise the suspicions of anyone, like Charles or Marcus. I remember meeting Marcus in the hallway a few weeks ago – he definitely gave me an odd, searching look.

He doesn't know me very well, not even as Nicole, but I feel a strange tug toward him. I wonder if he feels it, too – in fact, I think he must. Why else is he so…intuitive toward me? I felt it when I was with him as Nicole.

We only had one date, and he only saw me a handful of times, but he seemed to be able to look into my soul, almost. And my heart feels strange when I'm with him, even as Evelyn. It pulls toward him, tugging at me like an invisible line links me with him.

I have to be extra careful around Marcus, I decide. And I have to be especially careful around Charles. He's known me for so long, it's only a matter of time before he figures out who I am. I have to avoid him as much as possible.

Plus, he's paranoid as hell. Which he should be, that horrible rat, I think with fury. But I can't let him onto me, or he'll ruin everything before I get a chance to intervene.

What I need to do first, I decide, is interview some of the staff around the Alpha: Claire, Mrs. Potts, some of the servers and maids and possibly Roger as well.

I have to frame my questions as if I'm just trying to get to the bottom of a medical puzzle, not as if I think anything nefarious is going on. I don't want anyone to feel like I'm accusing them of anything, not when I know it's Charles who is the real culprit.

Plus, I don't want to tip off anybody who might be working with Charles, or at least working under his orders.

The kitchens are probably the place to start.

"No, honey, I follow your new instructions down to the letter," Mrs. Potts says over her shoulder, stirring a large pot of soup and lifting some dish towels to peek at her bread loaves. "I've worked in this business for a long time, and I'm meticulous when it comes to dietary restrictions."

"Of course you do," I say, making a note in my book. Mrs. Potts seems sincere; I can't imagine that she'd hurt the Alpha willingly. Still, it's best to be cautious – I can't rule anybody out right now. "Please don't get me wrong; I'm not questioning your abilities.

"I'm just wondering if there's any chance that a server could have mixed up the plates, maybe? With so much food coming and going from these kitchens, I imagine it would be easy for a less experienced person to get confused."

"Ah, well, that now," Mrs. Potts says, stirring the soup. She looks thoughtfully into the pot, banging the spoon on the edge and adding a pinch more salt. "It's certainly possible. We had a new influx of servers after the wedding, you know, which seems to be when these problems really amped up."

"Really?" I ask, making another note. "Why all the new servers?"

"Well, it was that Charles, I believe," Mrs. Potts says. "He came down here one morning and said that his wife wasn't happy with some of my kitchen boys. Had orders from Miss Daisy to replace them, that she'd already hired the new staff."

"Did he say why she was unhappy?" I ask.

"Nope," Mrs. Potts says. "Tell you the truth, I wasn't too happy about the changes. My kitchen staff is trained and hand-picked by me, and it's always been that way. The Alpha always let me have free rein over my staff, and I had those boys trained just how I wanted them.

"But Miss Daisy wasn't happy, I gather. Between you and me, I think that girl is getting too big for her britches. She's not been named heir, nor will be if Marcus can get his act together. I think she's swanning around, giving orders and trying to look more in charge than she is.

"But when I sent a query upstairs, I got a note from Claire telling me to go ahead and replace the staff. I talked to her later, and she just said it was approved by the Alpha and it had to go through. So, I took on Charles's boys.

"They're all right – not bad lads, really. But I haven't had time to fully train them up the way I'd like, and a few of them seem to go out of their way to undermine my system. I talked to Clarie about it, but she just looked all hassled and said we'd have to sort it out later."

I tap my pen against my notebook, thinking. "How do they undermine your system?"

"Oh, just silly mistakes, or at least that's what I thought at first. But it's been a few months, now, and it sometimes seems like the mistakes are almost deliberate. Mixing up plates, like you suggested. Adding ingredients to pots behind my back.

"It really gets my goat, I don't mind telling you. But nothing's been serious enough that I can get upstairs to pay attention to it. I just get told that Charles is in charge of staffing now, and he wants the staff this way. Case closed.

"But I am awful careful with the Alpha's food," Mrs. Potts continues, taking the pot off the stove. "I have Jenson handle all those trays, and he's been with me for years. There should be no way that he's making any kind of mistake like that."

I write down Jenson's name and thank Mrs. Potts for her help.

Time to go interview Jenson and see what he can tell me.