Chapter 54

"How could this have happened?" Charles shrieks, flinging another paperweight across the room. It shatters against the fireplace, collapsing into shards of pottery dust and sharp corners. Darlene winces; she'd been rather fond of that one.

They've met to discuss the matter at the Hardys' home, since the mansion is too risky. Too many ears everywhere, Charles seethes. Too many little spies, counterspies, working against him. The Alpha should be dead. That wretched little doctor should never have been able to save him.

"It's like she has a goddamn sixth sense," Charles says, pacing erratically. "No one was supposed to interrupt him for at least another hour, which would've given the poison time to finish its work.

"He always rests for two hours after lunch, no meetings or interruptions allowed. Of course, that's the one time that Dr. Goddamn Prism decides that rules don't apply to her, that she can request an audience with the Alpha during his private study time.

"And of course, instead of telling her to buzz off, dear Claire had to be so helpful and try to call him. And when that didn't work, instead of assuming he wanted to be left in peace, she decides to go check on him."

"And then of course that damned doctor had to suspect poisoning right away," Joel says, hissing between his teeth. "We should never have allowed her into the mansion. She's too good."

"I thought she'd be an idiot," Daisy says. "Anybody who touts themselves as a witchdoctor is a shammer, a charlatan. She wasn't supposed to be some kind of real medical wizard."

"You couldn't have known," Charles says in a moment of rare generosity toward his wife. "None of us could. She's no witchdoctor. No, something is off about her. She needs to be eliminated."

"You want us to try to kill her next?" Joel asks. "It'll likely be a lot easier than murdering my father."

"Yes, but not right away," Charles says. He stops stomping and throwing things long enough to drum his fingers on his thigh in thought. "We still need her, at least for now."

"We do?" Becki asks. "Why?"

Becki has particular reason to dislike Dr. Evelyn Prism. She's heard through the grapevine that Dr. Prism is now dating Marcus, swanning in to claim the prize that should have been Becki's. Some weird little nobody doctor from Australia, slithering in over a society woman like Becki.

What is the world coming to, anyway?

It would be Becki's pleasure to wipe that smarmy little bitch right off the face of the earth. Becki isn't even interested in Marcus anymore, not personally, but she can't forgive being humiliated like she has been in his presence practically every time she tried to speak to the man.

And she certainly can't stand that some inferior rival has taken what Becki set out to grab for herself. And that's not even to mention how Charles cut her salary by over two-thirds since she had to admit defeat.

"If you're not going to help, you don't get paid," he had snapped at her on the phone when she called in a rage to ask why her credit card had been denied at Nordstrom's. "I'm keeping you on a very small retainer as a favor to your parents, but the gravy train has dried up, sweetheart.

"You might try getting a real job for a change, instead of expecting the rest of us to bankroll you." Then he'd hung up on her!

No, that was not the sort of insult that Becki was going to take lying down. She was going to get her revenge, and she wanted to start with Little Miss Doctor Redhead.

"Yes, we do," Charles was arguing with Darlene, pulling Becki back to the present. "She's the only one close enough to the Alpha to maybe make a mistake and let one of us through. If you thought he was protected before, imagine the fortress that will be around him now."

"But surely one of us, as family–" Daisy begins, but Charles cuts her off.

"Don't be an idiot, Daisy," he says, exasperated with her lack of insight. "They know it must have been one of us. Who else would have the motive? They'll never let anyone except the Luna, Marcus, or Dr. Prism alone with him, or alone in his rooms, again."

"They were supposed to suspect this Dr. Prism," Darlene says angrily. "How did that little screw up happen? She was supposed to be framed, for god's sake! We did everything right."

"I don't know!" Charles snaps back. "I just know that they obviously didn't buy the idea that it was Dr. Prism who poisoned him, or who screwed up his medication, or she'd have been arrested by now.

"Instead, she's on the news talking about his heart condition, how thankful she is that she was able to be on the scene when it happened, and how grateful the family is for the public's support and concern." Charles's voice is disgusted.

"In case you've all forgotten, that's my job she's performing out there. Or at the very least, Marcus's, when I'm not available. The fact that she is out there, giving PR lies to the press and acting as a spokesperson on behalf of the family, means that she's even more trusted than ever."

"We're going to have to kill her to get rid of her," Joel says stubbornly.

"We are," Charles says. "But we need to use her first. One of us has got to get close enough to her to get to the Alpha."

"But why her?" Becki asks. "Why not Marcus or the Luna?"

"Because Marcus and the Luna have no reason to get closer to any of us, especially if they suspect us!" Charles says impatiently.

"The only person who has a shot here is you, Becki, and your track record with Marcus is miserable. The Luna has no reason to get close to you. But, just maybe, we can get you on Dr. Prism's good side."

"Me?!" Becki says. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who is outside the family enough to act like you have no involvement at all," Charles says. "And Dr. Prism is the only one who might befriend you. She has no reason to suspect you."

"I tried to date her boyfriend," Becki points out. "And embarrassed myself horribly in the process, I might add."

"So, play that up," Charles says. "My god, woman, it's like you have no imagination at all. I'm surrounded by useless idiots." He stops to rub his face wearily before looking up and going on, doing so with a maddening air of exaggerated patience.

"Befriend her. Tell her about your attempts to get in with Marcus, and how you feel ashamed and ridiculous, because you didn't really like him, you liked his status. Talk about how you just want to become closer to the society ladies, to become a society lady yourself.

"Talk about your fears, your vulnerabilities. People like Dr. Goody-Goody eat that shit up. She'll feel sorry for you, befriend you, draw you into her circle. That's when we can maybe organize another chance for you to strike."

"This is ridiculous," Becki mutters. "I have to debase myself again? And to her?"

"I must agree with Becki," Darlene says. "Aside from asking the poor girl to humiliate herself again, do you really think she has the skills to pull something like this off? She's not the best actress – no offense, honey."

"Oh, none taken," Becki says sarcastically. It's as if her mother is deliberately throwing all those acting lessons, professional portfolio shots, and failed auditions in her face. The acting scene is difficult. Tons of could-be stars never get found. Becki is one of them, that's all.

It's bad luck, not bad acting.

"We have very little choice left," Charles is saying when Becki interrupts him.

"No, I can do it," she says, steeling herself. "My acting isn't that bad. I'm sure I can get some hick doctor from the Outback to believe my sob story and act like my friend."

"That's the spirit," Charles claps his hands together. "Right, now let's discuss next steps."