He made her feelsafe.
She tilted her head up, pressed up on her toes, leaning in to kiss him.
Ophelia’s phone abruptly vibrated on the counter, jolting them out of the moment. She would have ignored it, except thescreen was facing up and flashing the only person’s name whom she’d stop this moment for. Detective Lewis.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, stepping out of his hold. “I’m so sorry, but I have to take this.”
Etienne watched Ophelia with curiosity as she answered the phone.
“Detective Lewis?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, this is Detective Lewis. I assume this is Ophelia Oubre, my favorite stalker.”
Ophelia winced and awkwardly laughed. “Yep, that’s me. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, because…”
Detective Lewis cut her off. “I know. I’m sorry. I was out on medical leave. The number you have is my work cell. I didn’t have it with me the past couple of months.”
“Oh, I hope everything is all right.”
“Yes, yes. Just getting older is all.”
“I suppose we all are…” Ophelia trailed off for a second, feeling bad for the detective. Once she regained her train of thought, she said, “I was hoping I could get access to my investigation files?”
“I’ll have to submit a request, and I’ll need you to sign some documents. But since you were the original reporter and victim, it should clear.”
“Amazing! Thank you. How soon do you think I could get them?”
Detective Lewis paused to think. “Two weeks is a good estimate.”
They exchanged email addresses, and he agreed to send over the files as soon as it was cleared. Ophelia couldn’t believe it. She had been dying to get her hands on those files. Maybe this would lead to something, some clue. Anything new at this point would be a relief. A sign that she may get closure.
“You okay?” asked Etienne.
“Yeah,” she said, a little breathless. Her emotions were scattered from the almost kiss and the detective’s call. “I’m tryingnot to get my hopes up, but I really want there to be something in those files that will help. I know it’s a long shot.”
“I don’t think it’s a long shot, Ophelia. Your attacker in New York quoted the Exodus verse, had a matching cross necklace, and from what you told me, it sounded like he was also trying to…” Etienne didn’t know how to say it without sounding crass or coming off as insensitive.
“Trying to what?” asked Ophelia.
“You said he held a knife to your throat. I assume he meant to inflict the same harm to you that the Cutthroat Killer did to his victims.”
“Yeah, that detail wasn’t lost on me either. At the time, the cops thought he was likely trying to rape me and was using the dagger to keep me still. But…”
“I’m so sorry, O,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’ve gone through all of this. No one should experience this much trauma in a lifetime.” Etienne cradled her head to his chest and rubbed soothing circles on her back.
“I know. It’s been a lot. It makes me wonder what would have happened if I didn’t have my tiger.” She wished she could see her protector during non-life-threatening events, but she supposed that was how the protector spirit worked.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
The next Wednesday was just as cold as the previous, but with endless dreary rain. While Ophelia enjoyed running in the cold, she did not feel the same about rain. She was worried he would cancel. He didn’t. Instead, in the early afternoon, she received a text from him.
Etienne: Make sure you’re hungry tonight.
Ophelia: Are you cooking me gumbo?
Etienne: No, I’m just bringing over your frozen leftovers.
Ophelia: Hysterical.
