Chapter Nineteen
Ophelia observed the ominous dark gray clouds from the safety of the rental couch.
The hurricane’s path had shifted in the night, and it was now moving east, passing New Orleans, aiming for Mobile instead.
The news predicted that the city would still get a lot of rain but would be safe from serious damage.
Unfortunately, the curfew remained in effect, so the slumber party plan was still on.
The day was spent reminiscing on embarrassing drunk stories from the night before, eating junk food, and licking hangover wounds.
Mateo was texting her and had done so all day.
The anxiety around her tiger was still there, but she couldn’t possibly unravel all of that now, so she let herself bask in the attention of a handsome man.
They texted about their lives, slowly revealing pieces of each other through the messages.
She learned that he was an artist and had moved to New Orleans a little before Ophelia moved back.
He sent her a link to his website. His art was evocative and stunning, sculptures of the nude female form with incredible detail.
The logical side of Ophelia knew this momentary infatuation was likely just that—momentary.
Fleeting. She always enjoyed the excitement of meeting someone new, that hopeful, lusty fever dream before reality sank in and the mystery faded.
When a person becomes real and not just flesh-filled cravings. A person with flaws, quirks, and needs.
By evening, the friends were lethargic and drunk again, but sleepy drunk this time.
Outside, the rain was barely trickling, as if the clouds were wringing out their last bit of water like a damp washcloth.
Evangeline, Annie, and Catherine fell asleep on the couches watching TV, and Jolie went up to bed at ten thirty.
Ophelia was the only one in the house awake, wired by zaps of adrenaline from Mateo’s text messages.
Mateo: Come meet me.
Ophelia: Tonight?
Mateo: Yeah, I’m out in the Quarter now.
Ophelia: How? There’s a curfew!
Mateo: It’s Nola…The bars never close.
Ophelia mulled the idea over. She wanted to see him again, but she struggled with the thought of sneaking out to see a guy on her sister’s bachelorette trip. Her fingers hovered over her phone, thinking of a response.
Mateo: Come on. Have an adventure with me.
An adventure. He knew exactly what to say to her already. Ophelia loved that feeling of discovery, of the unknown. Leaving her sisters felt wrong…, but they were all asleep. It wasn’t like she’d miss out on anything.
She tiptoed upstairs and slipped on a pair of flattering jeans, a slinky black spaghetti-strap top, and sandals.
As quietly as possible, she lifted up the window in her room.
It cracked so loudly that she was sure she woke up someone.
Pausing for a moment, she listened for anyone waking up, but she only heard her nervous breath.
Ophelia climbed out the window and descended the spiral staircase to the courtyard.
A wild thrill zipped through her as she laughed to herself. When was the last time she’d snuck out of a house? The excitement of it all was almost too much.
Mateo was right. It was abundantly clear that most bars were not taking the curfew seriously.
Many were open, but kept their neon lights off.
Ophelia entered a café and immediately took a step back with watering eyes from the musk of ancient cigar smoke clinging to the air.
Scanning the tables, she spotted Mateo in a back corner booth of the café.
Mateo smiled mischievously like he knew she was hooked. She didn’t love that. Play it cool, she reminded herself.
“I’m glad you came. Hope the others weren’t upset that you skipped out early on girls’ night,” he said as he placed both forearms on the table and flexed, purposefully.
Interesting. Someone is also trying hard.
“Well, they wouldn’t know, since they’re all passed out asleep,” she said, laughing.
“Already?” he exclaimed.
“I know.” Ophelia glanced at the coffee mug in front of him. “I bet you don’t sleep much if you’re drinking this stuff at eleven o’clock at night.”
“It’s a problem for sure.” Mateo grinned, and the waitress, an older woman with brilliant purple hair, walked up to the table and took Ophelia’s order. Not wanting to drink in front of Mateo, she ordered a club soda with lime.
“You can drink, ya know.”
“I know, but I’m still hungover from last night.” She was, and she assuaged it with a little hair of the dog earlier, but she wasn’t sure of the nature of his sobriety and wanted to be respectful.
The waitress returned with Ophelia’s drink and then leaned in, her many plastic bracelets clank against the table.
“I’m sorry to interrupt y’all, but not a lot of people know, and I want y’all to be extra careful tonight,” said the purple-haired woman in her thick West Bank accent.
Ophelia and Mateo exchanged questioning looks.
“There was another murder yesterday. Couple blocks from here, sha. So, ya’ know, watch yourselves, okay, huns? ”
“I’m sorry, this was yesterday? In the Quarter?” Ophelia asked, shocked.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, smacking her lips. “Tragic.” She shook her head and sucked her cheek.
Another murder that coincided with a tiger dream. Ophelia felt the blood drain from her face.
“Do you know anything else about what happened?” Ophelia probed, desperate for more details.
“Naw, nothing from the news. All I know is what people been sayin’. And they sayin’ it was that serial killer. They sayin’ he killed a woman, and did some creepy shit to her.”
“Jesus,” said Ophelia.
Ophelia and Mateo thanked the waitress for the news and sat in silence.
“Are you okay?” asked Mateo.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I think. It’s just that…” she said, twisting her hands. “The last victim, who was murdered back in August? Delphine was my neighbor. My friend.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ophelia,” Mateo said, reaching across the table and placing his hand on hers.
She was suddenly immensely concerned for her sisters, who were completely unaware of the murder in a house that potentially wasn’t locked. She knew at least her window was open because there was no way to lock it from the outside. But what about the doors in the courtyard and the front door?
“Mateo, I’m so sorry, but I think I need to go back to the house we’re staying in. My window is unlocked, and I’m not sure about the rest of the house.”
“Of course, let me walk you,” he said, rising from the booth. Mateo placed a couple of dollars on the table, and the two walked out of the café.
People milled about the streets, but it was nothing compared to the amount of people that were normally out on a Saturday night.
It appeared that the city’s curfew was being obeyed by some.
NOPD had bigger issues to worry about aside from people out past curfew in what was clearly no longer a weather emergency.
Mateo reached for Ophelia’s hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.
Like some form of medicine, her worries began melting away with his warm touch and were replaced by that heady lust-filled fog.
She was hyper aware of every movement he made—the brush of his arm against hers, the slight film of moisture on their palms from holding hands on a humid night.
The pair reached the house and walked through the courtyard gate. Ophelia made sure to quickly lock it behind her.
“Do you mind waiting for me out here so I can make sure everything and everyone is okay inside? I just want to double-check the locks,” she said, trying to sound cool and not completely freaked out.
Mateo leaned against the brick wall that encompassed the courtyard.
“Take your time.” Mateo openly scanned her body from the top down as she sauntered off to the courtyard doors with an extra swing in her hips.
As Ophelia entered the house, her lewd desires subsided. So much had happened in the past forty-eight hours—Mateo, another tiger episode, another murder. She had a reason to be freaked out. She wasn’t overreacting about her sisters’ safety. She knew it.
She crept around the house, quietly checking every door and window to make sure they were all locked.
Downstairs was completely empty. They all must have gone to bed upstairs.
Ophelia continued to the second floor. Holding her breath, she grabbed the door handle of Jo and Eva’s room and twisted the knob.
She peered into the room, and her sisters were curled up together, sleeping peacefully.
Her shoulders relaxed. In the second room, Christine and Annie were asleep as well.
With less tension in her body, Ophelia locked her bedroom window and went downstairs to pour herself a glass of wine and downed the glass in five seconds.
Steadier hands poured another glass and selected a sparkling water for Mateo.
She could see him through the living room window, leaning against the brick courtyard wall with the elegance of a man sure of himself and his appeal.
Maybe this man was exactly what she needed right now—a momentary distraction, a casual amusement from the swirl of confusing thoughts in her mind. Besides, she seemed to lose focus when she was around him anyway. Life gives us challenges and distractions, right?
“Everyone is safe and sound,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and handed Mateo the sparkling water.
“Good.”
“Do you have time for a drink? Or do you need to go? I’d invite you in, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to have a man inside the house on a bachelorette trip.”
Without responding, Mateo put his drink down on a small side table near the lounge chairs. He grabbed Ophelia’s doing the same. Silently, he stepped closer to her, less than an inch away. He wanted her. She knew it with every fiber of her being.