OPHELIA: Chapter 31
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 31
Charlie’s eyes scanned through all the open books where he sat at the corner table at Rose Gap’s Memorial Library. He sipped on the coffee at his side while pulling an article towards him. March 18th, 1943. Missing Woman Found with no tongue! A confession of madness after hospitalized. Accuses husband of “sacrificing” her.
His allergies flared due to the dust from the old books and the stagnant old cloud of cold air drifting within the room. The sound of footsteps neared towards him. Stefan sighed walking in and took the seat opposite whilst rubbing the back of his neck. “Stopped at the church on my way here but Greywood wasn’t there. Got anything?”
“Look at this article.” He pushed it towards Stefan whilst holding another in his hand.
Reading what he held, he frowned. August 10th, 1990. Foreign Exchange Female Students found dead after a wild night of partying.
“That’s all the information they gave on this piece?” Stefan asked holding the article in which he was reading.
“Exactly. There are a few others over there. They all targeted women. Not a man harmed. And the best part, take a read and tell me what you notice familiar.”
Stefan scowled as he went through the articles and noted the name of the journalist. Gill Gomez. “So, he was covering for them. Literally.”
“Sheriff seems to know more than we thought.”
The sound of clinking glass softened into their ear as a tall, slender old woman stood kindly before them holding a cup of hot coffee. Stefan recognized her as the librarian of the floor, Miss Dew. She’d aged quite a lot since he’d last been here. She’d always been so incredibly kind to him whilst he lived in Rose Gap and continued onto his studies in Art, literature, and a minor in Management.
“You young men seem to be working quite late, I see.” She smiled and placed the coffee on the table for Stefan. “My condolences to you and your family, my child. What happened to your sister and those other young girls is unforgivable.” Her eyes scanned the table across the pinned articled. “Ah, so you believe it’s the same?”
“We’re still in the process of figuring it out,” Charlie answered, concerned of the release of information.
“Well there isn’t much to figure out, dear boy. It is what it is.”
“What do you mean by that?” Stefan asked, confused.
“Georgina Clementine was my best friend back in the day. That’s the woman who had her tongue chopped off. Poor thing. One thing I will tell you is that Georgina was not crazy like the media painted her to be.”
Charlie’s expression softened at the woman before him, “What happened to her?”
“They admitted her into St. Roses Mental Asylum. The husband wanted nothing to do with her. It’s a terrible thing what happened to Georgie,” she said whilst taking a deep breath and a seat. “I used to visit her ever so often. There was one thing that woman wanted more than anything and that was to live. Yet, they said she committed suicide due to her tumbling depression.”
“Miss Dew, while she was alive, when you went to visit her I mean, what sort of things did she communicate to you about?” Charlie asked intently.
“Plagetis Patriarch. At first I thought Plagetis was a man, I searched everywhere for him. I hadn’t realized that he was a body and not a man.” She frowned, “My husband forbid me to look into it further. I had no choice but to listen. After his death I hadn’t bother either, I was too old and weak to anyway.”
“I’m sorry.” Stefan spoke softly, “One day Mrs. Clementine will get her justice.”
The old woman smiled as she stood before leaving, “It’s all I ever pray for.” “Oh, and Charlie dear,” she turned with a gentle smile towards him, “Before you leave collect a book at the front desk, it may come into good use.”
She walked away silently with the sound of heels fading from their ear.
“Lily was right, it’s a bloody patriarchal cult,” Charlie hissed in a soft low voice, “How on earth are we going to get justice for those women if it is that they were killed as some ritualistic sacrifice? We don’t even know who’s a part of this fking thing.”
“We have the Sheriff and Greywood as solid suspects,” Stefan tried to calm him but Charlie got up in frustration. He took a long and tired sigh, a reflection of the weariness in his eyes, and sunk himself to the floor, leaning his back and head against the bookshelf.
“Not to be a mother but when was the last time you actually slept? You look like sh*t.”
Charlie chuckled at his friend’s blatant and brutally honest humor. Something Stefan never failed to be. “Some part of me always knew it, Stef.” He began as he lowered his head sullenly, “I always knew something was off. All these years I stayed thinking I was protecting this town.”
“You were. You are. And you’re entitled to leave if you please. Start over, have a better life. Away from this madness.”
He shook his head silently.
“Charlie,” Stefan breathed, “Why did you really stay?” He knew what he would have said but hoped it wasn’t the case.
“Someone had to stay back and I was happy to do it-”
Stefan cut him off with a groan, “Oh fk you Charlie!” He softly scolded, “Why the hell would you do that for us?”
“Because you know why,” Charlie frowned. “I had to protect it. She’d been through enough. You did your part and this was mine. I care about her too. Every day since what happened to her I blame myself. Do you know what it’s like to carry around that guilt? I could have waited for her that evening to come along with me to the fair. I could have waited on her but I left and she didn’t go. If only I waited a few minutes Stef, maybe- maybe she wouldn’t have been raped.”
“Don’t do this to yourself.”
“It’s the truth,” Charlie scoffed in a sob as his voice went silent, “It’s the truth.”
“Listen,” Stefan spoke, leaning back on his chair, drained, “Don’t punish yourself. She loves you, she wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself. You know that.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, “Yeah, I know. It’s just that the guilt never really goes, you know?”
“Trust me, I know.”
Charlie stood and pushed the loose strands of hair which escaped from his bun back. “You speak of me but when are you going to stop blaming yourself?” The sound of his phone’s notification alarm suddenly went off. He frowned with knitted eyebrows, confused and concerned at the words on his screen.
Lily: has shared her location with you.
**
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