OPHELIA: Chapter 15

Blurb

Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.

For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.

After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.

In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.

With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.

Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.

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Chapter 15

 

Ophelia unpacked and left the house. She walked along the trail road that led towards the town. On the right, she caught scent of Porker’z Meat Shop which was directly opposite the park of children playing. This time of year they were on break. There were stories of the shop owners when they ran out of meat they’d steal one or two of the naughty children from across the street. Of course, looking back on it she found that those were just silly stories told by the older folks to traumatize their children into obedience. Her parents, on the other hand, weren’t like that. They were kind and honest people, the very few of the town who believed in following one’s dream and heart and something much more than the societal norms. Her mother told her stories of Greek mythology, of Cleopatra, of the land before civilization, and the diversity of different cultures. Her father taught her how to be soft yet strong, resilient yet humble, he taught her to be a rose with poisoned thorns. Those were all fond memories, memories that fade everyday into nothing but a distant dream.

Switching herself back to reality, she pulled out her phone and tried to contact the private detective she hired but the call failed. At this point she was on her own. She walked towards the St. Myers Middle School when a young girl caught her attention.

“Hey lady,” she called to Ophelia. A small girl with slight distinct curves too heavy for her age, sat between two other fourteen year old girls on the side bench. Her white mini skirt clung to her body as well as her yellow crop top. Her bright neon pink roller skates winked at the sun’s sparkle. “Nice boots,” she grinned while sucking a lollipop.

“Thanks.” Ophelia said and was about to continue her walk when the girl called again.

“You’re not from around here.”

“Not anymore.”

“Lucky.” The girl along with the other two giggled. “My name’s Terilla. This is Roxanne and Mya.”

“Terilla,” Ophelia repeated and smiled whilst feeling the sun in her eye, “Pretty name.”

 “Thanks.” The girl stood and skated to her side, leaving the other two to skate behind as Ophelia walked. “What’s yours?”

“You’re a curious little thing.”

“Well not everyday we see someone looking like you around here.”

“Oh, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know honestly. You just have this look in your eyes. Like you’re searching for something.” Terilla laughed, “If it’s a man then you’ve come to the wrong place lady.”

“Ophelia. You can call me Ophelia.”

Terilla smiled quite amused. She behaved like a cat with a new toy she found curious.

“You all go to school here?” Ophelia asked the girls.

“We used to,” Roxanne, from the back answered, “When the new semester starts we’ll all be in high school.”

“In stupid Rose Gap,” Terilla muttered.

Mya, from the back, suddenly squealed. “Terilla, look, it’s Ethan, nine o’clock.”

“I don’t care. He likes stupid bitchy wh*res. I’m not his type.”

Roxanne laughed, “Damn right, you aren’t.”

For a moment, Ophelia forgot these were little girls. The way they carried themselves and spoke was immature yet overly sexual for such a tender age. The chicken seems to have too many chemicals nowadays. A block away, she noticed Charlie leaving the local mini mart. He walked up to her and the girls with a knowing smile.  

“Officer,” Terilla smirked.

“Shouldn’t you girls be on your way back home? The town isn’t the safest place now for young ladies like yourself to be out here like this.”

“See girls, he cares about us so much.” Terilla chuckled.

Charlie sighed. “If you girls will excuse me, but I need to borrow Miss Ophelia from you.”

“Oh bring her back to us when you’re done, Officer.” Terilla laughed along with the other girls while skating away.

Stopping at the sidewalk’s bulletin board, he stuck a few notices up and watched as the three girls left. “See you met the talk of the town there.”

“Well, she’s hard to miss,” Ophelia answered.

“She likes the attention. She comes from a rich family. You know, the ones who think they can say or do anything without consequences. The family usually keeps to themselves, it’s good though because the mother’s quite a difficult lady.”  

“Worse than Stefan’s family?”

“Much,” he chuckled. “I’m not one for gossip but it’d been going around that the girl’s mother was actually a maid who worked for the lord and lady. The husband then killed his wife to be with the maid who eventually conned him out of his own manor and remarried.”

“Lord and lady?” Ophelia held in a laugh as Charlie smiled.

“Hey, I don’t make the rumors up.”

“But you enjoy them,” she teased.

“It’s a small town. Things get dull at times, so I indulge myself in listening to a few.”

“The girl seems to hate this town almost as much as I do.”

“Yes, her record indeed shows that. This is the fifth time she ran away from home. Only two days ago her sister brought her back home. She was caught a few times with some older men. It’s a sick thing really.”

“Does she know Claire?” Ophelia frowned in her question.

“They went to the same school I can say that. Even if they knew each other, it’s unlikely that they would have been friends.”

“Why do you say that?”            

Charlie sighed as he stuck the pin into the last flyer, “Claire Marie wasn’t a girl like those. She was a quiet, respectful, and content young girl. Florence and her were close. She had no reason, no motive, to want to run away which is what makes the case complicated.”

Ophelia felt the world of worry drift over her. Charlie noticed, “You going to be alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, like I told Stef, we’ll find her. I can feel it in my bones. Tomorrow morning we arranged a search party for her and I’ll be conducting interviews. Someone will crack, trust me.”

After answering a call which required him back at the office, he offered to give her a ride back home but she politely declined and made her way along the streets. At this point she wasn’t even sure what she was searching for, but anything which came up about Claire Marie would have been helpful. First things first was that she acquainted herself with the streets again.

The sun was getting low and her feet were beginning to ache. Maybe she was just running. Away from the manor. Away from her past that followed her like her shadow. An ice cream truck parked at the sidewalk with the bunch of girls standing besides it, all giggling in teenage thunder. As Ophelia neared, she heard bits and pieces of the conversation.

Who knew Rose Gap had men that looked like that?

I’ll let him fk me even if it’s illegal.

His arm is the size of my head, imagine how big his…

She pushed through the girls to find them staring at Stefan who was speaking to an elderly shopkeeper from across the street. Noticing her crossing the road, he tapped on the hood of his car as the shopkeeper went back inside.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Good ole Martha,” he laughed with an impeccable love for his old navy mustang and opened the door for her. “She isn’t dead just yet.”

“Well, I hope she isn’t,” she chuckled back while he got in. She noticed the girls from across the street as he drove by. “Stupid b*tchy wh*re.” She muttered in repeat to herself, remembering the girl’s words. Her mind danced around them.

“Who’s a wh*re now?”

“What?”

“A stupid wh*re?” He repeated her words with an arched eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a bunch of rebellious girls I ran into with dirty minds. They were, uhh, calling other kids that.”

He looked ahead in concern. “You went missing for a while.”

“I know,” she sighed and ran her fingers through her long dark hair. “I just needed some fresh air and a walk. I met Charlie along the way, he told me about a search they’re doing tomorrow for Claire. It’s good that they’re starting to take this a lot more seriously. They should have done this sooner.”

“He told me. I’ll be going with them tomorrow.”

“I’ll come too.”

“The search group is only men.”

“I don’t care. They can’t turn this into a patriarchy thing.” She frowned, “I care about her too.”

“You know how screwed up and backwards Rose Gap is. I’m not stopping you, just asking you to consider what the fkers in this town would say.”

“People are always going to talk, Stef.”

“Then let’s bring Rosie and grandma too,” he chuckled. “That might rile them up even more.”

**

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