99 Times for Alpha’s Bestie novel Chapter 172

“Officer Dunn, please come in,” Carson swiftly ushered the visitor into the house. I stepped forward immediately and extended my hand. “Hello, Officer Dunn. I am Sean Reese’s daughter, Claire.”

“I remember you,” he said, his voice thick with nostalgia. “When the accident happened, you were just a little thing, barely reaching my knee. Time sure flies.”

“It certainly does. Please, let us sit and talk,” I replied, gesturing for him to follow as Carson and I guided him to the parlour.

Liyah, ever perceptive, gently helped Grandma away for a short stroll in the garden, leaving Carson and me to our discussion with the officer in private.

Officer Dunn wasted no time on pleasantries.

“Let us cut to the chase, Ms. Reese,” he said, sliding a stack of documents toward me.

“When I first handled your father’s case, I was a rookie cop fresh from the academy and newly accepted into the Shifter sector of the precinct. I documented the scene myself and found several other footprints that did not match your father’s or the rogues later found deceased and suspected to be involved.”

“That meant a third party was present. But with the evidence chain compromised at the time-” He exhaled sharply. “It was ultimately ruled an accident.”

“For years, the inconsistencies in this case have eaten at me. I knew that there was more to this death. And not just because of the discrepancies, but because your father was the very reason I became an officer.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I took the files.

Even with the graphic photos artistically blurred, each page felt like a cut from a rusty blade, the ache spreading through me until I could barely breathe.

I set them down carefully, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fall. “My father helped you?”

“I was a penniless kid who got into the police academy but could not afford the tuition,” he said, his voice roughening with emotion. “Your father funded scholarships for students like me. Had his name not been on that donor list-”

“The bitter irony is that my first major assignment after graduation was his case.” A bitter chuckle escaped him. “All these years, I have been piecing together clues in the shadows, determined to see justice served for him.”

The truth of his motivation hit me with the force of a thunderclap, and I now understood the depth of his resolve.

“Grandma told me,” I began, taking a deep breath to steady my trembling voice, “that just days before the accident, Uncle Steven had a vicious argument with Dad over the Reese Group shares during a family dinner. They even overturned the dining table. And then, mere days later, Dad-”

“That seals it!” Mr. Dunn sprang to his feet, jabbing his finger against a maintenance record in the file. “This supports the theory; it was no accident! Look here. The itinerary mapped out on his calendar log from two days before the accident clearly states ‘no rogues in the area spotted for weeks‘! Yet during the hike, the area was overrun with a pack of them!”

“What?!” My pupils constricted.

I snatched the timeworn, ink–smudged record and scrutinized the barely legible details.

The date, the rogue–sighting reports, the council’s confirmed notice of rogue warnings–all critical clues emerged over time.

Someone sent him a false report?

“Before the accident, the family always used council–approved websites for rogue sightings!” I dredged up half–remembered details from childhood. “But I remember, this document was handed to my father days

before he left, it was done by his assistant, who was Uncle Steven’s brother–in–law!”

“Perfect!” Mr. Dunn nearly knocked over the table in his excitement. “The council has no record of any of

these details, and clearly shows that rogue warnings were submitted and posted. This connection is the breakthrough we needed!”

Carson interjected, furrowing his brow. “But the case was closed years ago. Can one document really reopen it?”

“Normally, no,” the officer admitted, “But this week, our precinct received a flood of calls from the public demanding Sean Reese’s case be reinvestigated. The higher–ups have taken notice. The case is being officially reopened.”

I was stunned by what the officer said.

I took a steadying breath, my frosty gaze pinned on the trio.

My eyes darted toward the garden hose, a plan forming to give the unwelcome visitors an impromptu shower, when the screech of tires erupted from the street.

Before I could blink, a dozen black suited Elite Warriors with the crest of The Crown of Thornes on their

chest exploded from the cars with SWAT–like precision. In perfect sync, they grabbed the trio by their collars and unceremoniously tossed them into the murky water of the nearby canal.

The river surface churned, silencing the cousins‘ screams and leaving nothing but chaotic splashes in their wake. The entire confrontation ended as abruptly as it had begun.

Liyah and I stood frozen for a moment, our jaws dropping in unison. Then a striking silhouette materialized at the gate.

Lucien cut through the scene in a razor–sharp silver suit, his imposing presence commanding the space. A massive, ivory–coated Tibetan Mastiff trotted obediently at his heel. Behind dark sunglasses, his mouth quirked in a characteristically confident half smile, as if he had merely been out for a casual walk with his dog.

But I knew better. That gloriously over–the–top display had his signature written all over it.

The iron band of tension around my lungs suddenly snapped.

Acting on pure impulse, I wrenched the gate open and launched myself toward him, barreling into his chest with enough force to stagger a lesser man.

“Luci, thank you!” My fingers dug into the hard planes of his waist.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

Slowly, he reached up and removed his sunglasses, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “Did you just,” his voice dropped to a dangerously low pitch, “call me Luci?”