OPHELIA: Chapter 38
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 38
Charlie sat opposite Vivian, with a notepad in hand, watching as she neatly folded the napkin before her. “I truly was not expecting any visitors of your sort today, officer Russel.” She smiled, “Do you think me guilty?” It was a taunting sort of smile. A smile with a bit of broken sadness and mystery at its edges.
“It’s simply protocol, Miss.”
“Call me Vivian.”
He looked up to take note of her icy eyes. “Forgive me, I thought someone may have informed you about my visit. They usually do with folks of your caliber.”
She chuckled. “Such pretty words for a girl who grew up through dirt money, Charles.” He remined silent as she continued, “I hear the rumors of my family too. There’s no need for secrets between us.”
“Well, it’s good that we have that understanding then, Miss Vivian.”
“I’ll be honest, I thought my little sister would be the one questioned by officers first. Not me.”
Charlie placed his notepad on top of his files and stood, looking out the window. “I’m not here for the reason you think I am. I don’t think you as a suspect.”
“Oh?”
He turned, leaning against the windowsill, twirling the pen through his fingers in deep concentration. Vivian remained seated with a stiffened breath.
“I’ve been doing my research on you. My personal research.”
“Is that so?” A flush of unease settled within the pit of her stomach. She exhaled, trying her best to retain her composure.
“I saw you that night in the woods, where you called Ophelia. You seem to have a lot to say to her seeing that you called her here again. In this house.”
She stood, “I need you to leave, Charles.”
“Why don’t you?”
“What?”
He frowned deeply and repeated himself, “Why don’t you leave this town?”
Vivian scoffed away her discomfort, “I have family here.”
“You hate your family.”
“You’re crossing the line,” she warned.
“Lines are meant to be crossed, Miss Lockwick. And, I think you’re holding back. You’re suffocating within these walls, within yourself.”
“It’s Lane,” she corrected, “My late father’s name was John Lane. I don’t carry the Lockwick’s title.”
Charlie gave a soft empathic smile, as her voice softened. “I’m not against you, Miss Lane.” He walked closer to her, the scent of her perfumed licked him gently. Closer, he noticed how the deep blue of her eyes were slightly faded. Her hair had fizzes trying to escape as her skin, though porcelain, contrasted with dark circles. She wasn’t as tall as he had initially thought she was, she was certainly shorter than him without heels. She portrayed herself to be such a strong, untouchable woman and yet, here she was before him so vulnerable. His heart sank at the weight she had been carrying all these years. He leaned in closer and removed her cardigan which was stuck on the chair which would have caused her to fall. He took a small, decent, step back with an apologetic smile itched with a hint of sadness, “What happened to you shouldn’t have happened.”
Vivian bit the dry skin off her lower lip and felt the tang of blood at the tip of her tongue. He was right. She was holding something back. She had to tell him the truth. She hadn’t realized how many people she had affected all these years. If he had only known the truth all these years, he would have left this town. He could have had a life, a family. Charles wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t corrupt and she knew that. Like he knew the small amount about her, she knew a great deal about him, and she knew he only stayed in this town to protect the ones he loved and cared about. She had held back enough.
Vivian’s words fell out slowly and painfully, “You have no reason to stay in this town, Charles.”
He looked at her in a slight confusion.
“Do you remember the details of Jame Lockwick’s murder?”
“Yes, uh, he had his head smashed in on the rocks of lake Tampa. Why?”
“Because Ophelia thinks that the cause of his death is drowning.”
Charlie looked at her with knitted eyebrows, “I- I don’t follow.”
“You and I know the cause of his death, Charles.” She paused, uncertain yet continued, “She thought she pushed him off the bridge and he drowned, but that’s not what happened that night.”
“Vivian-”
“Jame had drugged me two days before his death. He had taken explicit photos of me when he did. I saw him going into town one night with them so I followed him because I was afraid of what he would do and who he would show them to.” She swallowed the hard lump of spit down her throat. “I saw what had happened that night. He wasn’t dead, Charles. He had dislocated his shoulder when she pushed him, but he wasn’t dead. I saw him crawling out of the water.” She paused and sat down on the chair, keeping her eyes away from Charlie’s. “I hid behind one of the trees, but he saw me. I could remember his voice, that snarl-like voice. He called out to me. Vivie. Vivie. I never heard him beg, I liked it almost.”
Charlie remained silence to allow her to continue.
“I thought I could end a nightmare so I-” she stopped and looked up to Charlie this time. Her eyes reflected this broken soul of hers. Her voice, soft in an aching whisper, “Ophelia didn’t kill Jame, I did.”
Charlie hadn’t known this. He hadn’t expected this. And yet, he couldn’t hate her. Just as he couldn’t hate Ophelia, he felt the same sense of duty towards the girl before him. Someone had to protect these girls. Someone had to.
He took a small breath and picked up his notepad and file. “Sometimes we might have two nightmares in one night, Miss Lane, but it doesn’t mean that we never wake up from them. We’ll find you your dawn one day.”
“Charles-” she called out to him before he left the room.
He turned back to her with a soft smile, “It doesn’t change anything, Miss Lane. I’m not leaving this town, not yet. I want to stay.”
**
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