12. Twelve #2
“No, but that’s the thing.” She laughed a little, even though nothing felt funny.
“My father didn’t bother to learn the names of all the creatures.
He knew the words shifter and vampire, of course.
He also knew the word witch. Ask him about a maenad or a banshee, though, and he would have looked at you as if you sprouted a second head. ”
“Oh.” Realization dawned on Sully, and he nodded. “I get it.”
“Yeah.” Ofelia rubbed her hand absently over his bare chest. “I remember hearing my father tell a story about a screaming woman. It could be nothing,” she added hurriedly.
“Or it could be something,” Sully finished for her.
“Yeah. We’re having breakfast with Dad today. There’s no reason we can’t ask him about that story.”
“Definitely not.” Sully rubbed his hands over her bare back. “We have time before breakfast,” he said. “Do you want to get a fun jump on our day?”
Ofelia hesitated, her mind immediately going to Angelique.
“She would want you to greet the day with a smile,” Sully insisted.
Ofelia laughed when he batted his eyelashes. “Fine, but we’re never going to tell anybody else about this. I’ll feel guilty.”
“You are a prude that way.”
“Oh, keep it up and I’ll choose to wallow if you’re not careful.”
Sully’s grin was wide as he rolled her. “We can’t have that, can we?”
OSCAR WAS YUKKING IT UP WITH his friends when Ofelia and Sully made their way into Oceana. They were 10 minutes early, despite their morning calisthenics session. Oscar didn’t even look at them when they sat down with him, though.
“I’m telling you that eventually everybody will have a phone wired to their brains,” Oscar said. “That’s what the government wants.”
Ofelia was used to her father’s conspiracy theories and wasn’t worried. He had a theory about the government, whether he was feeling mentally well or not.
“I don’t think it will be a phone,” she offered. “It’s more likely it will be a chip.”
Oscar paused and stared at her. “This is my rant,” he said finally. “You need to get your own rant.”
Ofelia laughed and held up her hands in supplication. “Sorry. I will try to avoid stepping on your rant.”
“Good girl.” He smiled at his daughter. “How are you feeling after last night?”
It took Ofelia a moment to realize what he was talking about. She’d been careful when relating news of Angelique, so he didn’t know the most important details. What he knew about most was the disastrous dinner.
“Oh, well …” Ofelia had to think about her answer. “I’m feeling pretty good about how dinner went,” she said finally.
“You are?” Oscar cocked a dubious eyebrow. “Your mother wasn’t feeling good when you left.”
“That’s why I’m feeling good.”
Oscar sent her a glare of consternation. “I know your mother is difficult,” he started.
“Mom passed difficult when she was seven.”
Oscar continued as if Ofelia hadn’t spoken. “She really does want the best for you.”
Before Ofelia could respond, Sully took over the conversation. “It’s our wedding,” he said. “Your daughter should not have to give up the stuff that’s important to her because her mother wants things her way. That’s not fair.”
“I know.” Oscar slumped in his chair a little bit. “It’s not fair at all. I just … I kind of felt bad for her.”
“Don’t,” Sully shot back. “They’ve earned their threats.”
“I don’t really want to talk about dinner,” Ofelia interjected. “It wasn’t a happy time for any of us. I want to talk about the woman who used to come into Krewe when I was a kid. I don’t remember her name.”
Oscar might have been confused by the quick change in conversation, but he adjusted well enough. “You’re going to have to be way more specific than that. A lot of women came into the bar.”
“This one you called a screamer. You said that she would go to the corner of the street and scream at the top of her lungs, and that it was a really high-pitched noise. Like … it was otherworldly.”
Oscar caught on to what she wasn’t saying immediately. She was being careful in front of his friends and not using the “banshee” word. “Oh, I remember who you’re talking about.” His forehead wrinkled as he tried to conjure a name. “Man, I’m having trouble.”
“Tell us about her,” Sully prodded. “How long did she come into the bar?”
“She came in a good two to three times a week for about a year.”
“How long ago?”
“Oh, a long time. You were about seven or so, I think.” He glanced at Ofelia. “Does that sound about right?”
“Sure,” Ofelia replied. She couldn’t remember exactly how old she was. It might not even matter.
“Was she new to the area?” Sully asked.
“No. She said she’d lived in the area for a long time, but she was over in Algiers Point for years before moving closer to the French Quarter.”
“And she screamed?” Ofelia prodded.
“Oh, yeah.” Oscar made a face. “It wasn’t a normal scream, though. At first, I thought she was using some sort of device to make the scream. I never saw the device, and I looked.”
“What about the way she looked?” Ofelia asked. “Did anything stand out about that?”
“No. I’m not sure what you’re talking about, though.” Oscar was growing frustrated, which had Ofelia readjusting her approach.
“What color was her hair?” Ofelia asked.
Oscar didn’t ask why Ofelia wanted to know this information. He was familiar enough with his daughter to understand that if she was asking, after what had happened at the engagement party, that there was a reason for it. “It was kind of blond but almost gray.”
“Maybe a silver color?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“What color were her eyes?” Ofelia asked.
“That I do remember.” Oscar broke out in a wide smile. “They were blue, but not blue like your eyes. Your eyes are a deep blue. They were more of an ice blue.”
Ofelia nodded. He was saying exactly what she wanted to hear. “And her fingernails?”
“Oh, man.” He rubbed his cheek. “I had forgotten about the fingernails until you mentioned them. They were really long, but she didn’t paint them or anything. They were kind of ragged.”
“Like claws?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Exactly like claws.” He looked Ofelia over with fresh eyes. “Is that important?”
“It’s interesting,” Ofelia replied. “Can you remember her name now?”
Oscar nodded. “I remember it. Her name was Shirley Castle.”
Ofelia froze in place for several seconds, then slowly slid her eyes to Sully. “Isn’t that who we tried to visit last night before dinner?”
He nodded. “Yup. She wasn’t home.”
“And she lost her husband recently?”
“Yes.”
Ofelia had no idea what to make of the information. Obviously, it wasn’t a coincidence. If Shirley Castle was a banshee, however, why would she risk killing her own husband? How did she factor into what was going on with the other banshees?
“I guess we know where we’re going after breakfast,” Sully said.
“Oh, most definitely,” Ofelia agreed. Her mind was a whirlwind. “We absolutely have a destination for after breakfast.”
“Did I help?” Oscar asked hopefully. “Like … did you get what you needed from me?”
Ofelia leaned over and gave him a side hug of encouragement. “You were just the biggest help in the world.”
Oscar let out a long breath. “That’s good. I like being helpful.”
“Then you should be happy.” Ofelia hugged him a beat longer before releasing him. “You just gave us our first big break.”