Chapter 33 Ophelia
OPHELIA
Hamish texts Silas once we’re at the brownstone. The evening rain is turning into wet snow that will likely freeze overnight. I wish Silas were here.
I pour my dad and myself a glass of wine, and Dad sits at the kitchen counter.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. It’s close to dinnertime.
“Yeah, actually.”
“I’ll make us something.” I take out the makings for a simple pasta with red sauce for dinner. I’m very aware Hamish is seated on the living room couch. I think he might be taking this keeping me within sight at all times a little too far and decide I’ll talk to Silas about it tonight.
“What happens to the case now? They have that evidence to prove you were being blackmailed. Will that be enough for you to stay out of prison?”
“It’s pretty compelling, but there’s a lot of legal mumbo jumbo Higgins will need to sort through.
Not to mention the arson case. I don’t think they’re just going to let me walk away but I’ll know more next week.
Don’t worry about me, though, sweetheart.
I’ll be fine.” His phone rings. “Speak of the devil.” He holds up a finger and stands to answer. “Yes, Higgins.”
I watch him mostly listen to what Higgins is saying on the other end and sip my wine. After a few minutes, he disconnects, tucks his phone into his pocket, and picks up his jacket from the back of the stool.
“I’m going to have to take a raincheck on that dinner. Higgins has some things he wants me to look over and it can’t wait.”
“Is it good things?”
“It sounds like it, but I won’t get my hopes up until I talk to him. Looks like your grandfather pulled some strings though.”
“Oh? See, he’s not so bad.”
“Not if he’s on your side, I suppose, which he is on yours.” Dad puts his coat on and hugs me. “It’s good to be out of prison and part of your life again, Phee. That was the hardest part, you know.”
“It’s good to have you back in my life, Dad. Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Sounds good.”
I walk him to the door, Hamish standing right behind me as I wave him off then close the front door. I turn to Hamish.
“I promise I’m not going to make a run for it.”
He smiles, puts his hands in the air, palms facing me. “Not taking any chances, Mrs. Cruz.”
I sigh. “You know what?” I say more to myself than him.
“I think I’m going to go upstairs and have a bath and let Silas cook when he gets back.
” I pick up my wine glass and my cell phone from the kitchen counter and head upstairs to the bathroom in the primary bedroom.
I’d seen candles in the cabinet under the sink, and I take them out, setting them along the windowsill and on the edge of the tub.
I run hot water then light the candles and switch off the overhead lamp.
Only then do I strip off my funeral clothes, pin my hair up, and slide into the still filling tub, closing my eyes, and laying my head back against the lip of it, the only sound that of water rushing as I soak away the day.
A few moments later, a strange pop startles me.
I sit up quickly, splashing water out of the tub, but before I have a chance to even switch off the water, my phone rings.
I turn the tap off and reach for it, but it’s on the counter and I can’t.
By the time I step out of the tub, the call has gone to voicemail.
I dry my hands, dripping water on the bathmat and swipe to see who called when it starts to ring again. It’s Silas.
I answer. “Hey.”
“Where are you? Where’s Hamish?” He sounds panicked.
“What? Why?”
“Just where is Hamish?” he barks.
“Downstairs, I guess. I’m in the bath.”
He sighs with relief. “Shit.”
“Silas, what is it?”
“I’m on my way back. I just—There’s Hamish calling now. Let me take it. Have your bath.”
He disconnects before I can answer and I set it down, irritated and cold. I switch off the phone, no longer wanting a bath, not remotely relaxed. I reach for a towel when I hear the bedroom door open.
Surely, he’s not back already? I open the door ready to give Silas a piece of my mind but stop dead when I see it’s not him. It’s not Silas at all.