5
FIVE
Ofelia knew better than to react in front of her father. Somehow — it took superhuman effort — she went through the motions of a normal breakfast, and Oscar wasn’t any the wiser. Or, if he was, he opted to keep his questions to himself.
Once breakfast was finished, Ofelia sent her father off with his friends after planting a loud kiss on his cheek. Oscar’s face turned crimson as his friends hooted and hollered, but Ofelia knew he secretly liked it.
Once it was just the two of them, Ofelia turned to Sully and finally allowed her worry to show. “What the hell are we going to do about Biff?”
“We could throw him in the river with a few rocks attached and see if he can swim,” Sully suggested blithely.
Ofelia made a face. “I’m being serious.”
“Who says I’m not?”
There was no containing her eye roll. “I need you to be serious. No matter how irritating you find Biff, we both know you would never kill him. Give me a break.”
Sully held up his hands in supplication. “Sorry. You’re right. If I kill Biff, I won’t tell anybody, including you.”
“Hey!” Ofelia reared back as if she’d been slapped. “I thought we were a team.”
“We are, but I wouldn’t tell you so you don’t have to lie to the police if they start asking questions. That’s me protecting you. I’m assuming you would do the same thing for me.”
She had to consider it. “If I killed Biff, I definitely wouldn’t tell you. I wouldn’t kill him, though, because I don’t like the idea of a lie living at the center of our relationship.”
“Oh, funny thing.” Sully’s fingers were gentle as they brushed her hair out of her face. “That’s why I haven’t killed him either.”
Despite their circumstances, Ofelia managed a grin. “I guess that’s why we’re such a good match.”
“Definitely.” Sully pulled her in and swayed back and forth as he hugged her. “For right now, Biff is chasing his tail. He can’t search your property without a warrant, and there’s no judge who will give him one on flimsy evidence, and that’s all he has.”
Ofelia wasn’t as certain that the law would back up their position as Sully, but she’d built failsafes into the wards the previous evening. “Even if Biff gets a warrant, he won’t be able to find Angelique at my building.”
Sully pulled back far enough to eye her. “What does that mean?”
“Just that if he were to try, the elevator wouldn’t go to that floor, and he would have no idea she was there. I built it into the spell. She’s safe.”
“So, he could search our place, come up empty, and basically be out of luck with the other building,” Sully mused.
“Yes.” Ofelia bobbed her head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“So, maybe we should let him search the building sooner rather than later to cover ourselves.”
Now, Ofelia hesitated. “Wouldn’t it come across as suspicious if you just volunteered to let him do that after we denied seeing her after the party?”
“Probably.” Sully bobbed his head. “I’ll feel Jack out when I see him later. For now, I’m going to the morgue.”
Ofelia’s hand flew to her mouth. “Who died? Did somebody from the party last night die?”
“Calm down.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hating how rigid her shoulders were.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest times of her life.
They were getting married in mere days. She should have been pampering herself at spas and laughing it up with Angelique over afternoon cocktails and pedicures.
Now she was freaking out that her friend might turn into a banshee.
On top of that, members of his unit were hunting Angelique.
It was going to explode. The whole situation was going to explode and there was nothing anybody could do about it. He couldn’t stop what was to come. He could help Ofelia, though. Perhaps they could get ahead of it.
That’s why he was going to the morgue.
“Nobody from our party died,” he assured her, staring deep into her eyes in an effort to calm her. “Two days ago, however, a body was found over by the Voodoo Lounge.”
Ofelia stilled. “The one right by the park?”
“Yes.” He nodded succinctly. “It’s not my case, but I saw the report. The body was found with claw marks on the shoulder area. They looked a lot like the claw marks on Angelique’s arm.”
Ofelia took a moment to run the new information through her head. “Maybe we were wrong, and by ‘we’ I mean me,” she said. “I assumed that somebody at the park last night was the target. What if it wasn’t about the people at the park but the place itself?”
“You mean that banshees have been hunting in that area? That’s what I’m wondering. I’m going to go to the morgue to see what Carl can tell me. He’ll have gotten the body because of the injuries.”
“Do they think it’s a shifter or something?”
“They’re wondering if it’s a creature we haven’t crossed paths with yet,” he replied. “Last time I checked, they weren’t ruling out a shifter, though. I’m going to have to go digging in the assigned detective’s notes to see what I can come up with.”
“If it turns out that the first victim was targeted by the banshees, that might give us a path to follow,” Ofelia mused. “It’s a good idea.”
“Thank you. I love being told I’m good at my job.” He gave her a hip nudge. “What are you going to do?”
Ofelia’s smile was flat. “One guess.”
“Pascal?”
Her shoulders hopped. “I have to start somewhere.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “Keep me updated, huh? Let’s try to meet for lunch.”
“I always enjoy having lunch with you.”
He captured her face in his hands and stared directly into her eyes. “We’re going to have a lifetime of lunches. I promise that. We’ll make sure that Angelique is there to irritate us for a lot of them going forward.”
Ofelia nodded, her throat thick with emotion. “We’ll figure it out,” she said finally.
“We most definitely will.”
PASCAL FONTAINE WAS THE MOST fascinating creature Ofelia had ever met.
He was an old vampire — so old she didn’t even know when he’d been born — and he owned a vampire boutique in New Orleans.
He wasn’t out and proud, though. He didn’t show his fangs to patrons.
No, he sat on an ostentatious throne and allowed people to believe he was a man pretending to be a vampire, when he was really a vampire pretending to be a man pretending to be a vampire.
The whole thing was very convoluted.
Ofelia loved that his protection came in the form of the entire premise being absurd.
That’s why she wasn’t surprised when she walked into his store — thankfully, it was currently empty — and found him sitting on his throne, a big book open on his lap.
Ofelia was one of the only people who knew there was really a gossip magazine pressed between the pages of the book.
Yes, Pascal loved celebrity gossip. Ofelia was convinced the only reason he had a smartphone was that he would go through withdrawal if he couldn’t read TMZ 10 times a day.
“Don’t just stand there and gape,” Pascal chided without looking up from his magazine. He’d sensed Ofelia when she turned onto his block. “Sit down and tell me why you’re here.”
Ofelia shuffled to the chair that was across from him and sat. “Who are you reading about today?” she asked.
“The tragedy that is Britney Spears.”
Ofelia’s forehead puckered. “You’re back on Britney Spears? She was your obsession a year ago. Why are you back on her? I would think there were plenty of other celebrities you could be focused on.”
Pascal gave her a withering look. “It’s not about newness. It’s about overall trauma.”
“Ah.” Ofelia nodded as if she agreed with what he was saying.
“Britney is a catastrophe waiting to happen. The girl sold her music catalog, which was the only thing that was guaranteed to keep her from blowing through all of her money.”
“Isn’t it her money to spend?” Ofelia asked.
“Yes, but what is the one thing that could make her situation worse?”
“Dropping one of those knives she likes to dance with on her bare foot?”
“Yes, well, that would suck,” he readily agreed. “Being poor and not being able to take care of herself was what I was thinking of, though.”
“You’re worried she’s going to burn through her money.”
“Yes, and then what happens? She’ll have to sell her house. We know her parents aren’t going to take care of her. Are they going to shove her in a state-run hospital? The whole thing is frightening to think about.”
Ofelia didn’t disagree. She simply didn’t understand why Pascal was always thinking about it.
“Well, I have a problem that’s closer to home.
There was an attack at our engagement party last night.
The party you didn’t attend.” She hadn’t intended to say that last part out loud, but she couldn’t stop herself. Once it was out, it was out.
Pascal lifted an eyebrow as he regarded her. “I fully intended to attend the smaller event your beloved set up for after the party. He texted to cancel, though, and said something had happened at the party. I assumed your mother and his mother went at it, and you had to keep them out of jail.”
Under different circumstances, Ofelia would have laughed. Nothing felt funny about this situation, however. “My mother and Madeline got along fine. They threw a party they both loved and were happy as clams … although I don’t know how anybody has ever been able to determine if clams are happy.”
“They loved the party,” Pascal said. “I take that to mean you did not love the party.”
“It was not to my taste,” Ofelia replied. She was determined to be an adult about it, given what Angelique was going through. Before she could stop herself, however, she was embarking on a tremendous rant. “All the things they promised me didn’t come to fruition.
“There was no carving station or a proper mixologist,” she continued. “There was no crawfish boil. There was no cake or ice cream. It was all the things my mother and Madeline wanted and nothing that I wanted.”