Page 58 of Hextreme Measures

She’d never liked the man. She wouldn’t pretend otherwise. There were times, though, she found him almost likable. He always ruined it. He had antiquated beliefs on what was “manly,” and when he was jockeying for Angelique’s affections, he’d been frustrated because he pegged Ben as a weak individual with an overflow of emotions.

Ofelia argued with Biff more than anybody when it came to working with the paranormal team. Most of the time, she chalked that up to him being sexist. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been raised to see women in a certain way. As in ruled by emotions but able to overcome them if they were strong.

“Geez.” She rubbed her forehead. “I should have seen this.”

Sully gave her a dubious sidelong look. “How could you have seen something like this. We had no idea it was even possible.”

“I should have seen that there was something different about him,” she insisted. “The things he said, the way he carried himself, it never sat right with me.”

“Oh, don’t blame yourself for this.” Sully moved away from the photos. His mind was going a mile a minute. “I just thought he was a sexist pig.”

Sully looked up at his reflection in the mirrored doors that hid a closet. They made the room look bigger, as was their design. They were woefully out of date, but he could see why somebody would still use them if they only had a very small space to deal with.

“What do we do here?” he asked after a beat. “What does all of this mean?”

Ofelia sent him a sharp look. “It means I’m going to beat the truth out of Biff.”

“What does it mean in the greater picture?” he argued. “Biff didn’t mention his father dying. Shirley is only in our records because her husband died at the hands of what was likely a banshee.”

Ofelia’s eyebrows migrated toward her hairline. “I hadn’t even worked that part out yet.” She forced herself to focus, then immediately went back to the photos on the wall. “It’s possible that the man who died wasn’t Biff’s father.” She pointed toward one of the photos. “The guy who is in the photo with Biff and Shirley looks nothing like Biff. He could have been a stepfather.”

“Heck, for all we know, Shirley has been through 20 husbands, and they all died violently,” Sully said. “We’re going to have to run her.” He reached for his phone. When he did, the reflection in the mirror caught him off guard, and he paused, certain he was seeing something that wasn’t there. No, something that couldn’t be there.

When he focused on the mirror, he found a woman standing there staring back at him. He recognized her from the photos. It was Shirley Castle. “Oh —”

He didn’t get a chance to finish it out or alert Ofelia that something bad was about to happen. He managed the single sound, then Shirley reached through the mirror and dragged him through it. He was frozen in place — he didn’t know how to react, let alone have time to do it — and then he was gone.

“Did you say something?” Ofelia tore herself away from the photos on the wall and walked into the living room. Sully wasn’t there. “Zach?”

She didn’t know why — there was no reason to panic — and yet her heart rate sped up so much she could feel it pounding in an attempt to break free of her chest.

“Zach?” she tried again, hoping she was being foolish. He’d gone down the hallway toward the bedrooms to look around. He just hadn’t told her.

He didn’t respond, and she briefly closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening. She made one more attempt. “Zach, please.”

He wasn’t there, though. She couldn’t feel him. Not in the room and not in the house. He had been there, and now he was gone.

“Son of a witch,” she cursed, then let loose a litany of profanities under her breath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. Shirley had been watching them. Her abilities included more than just being able to scream and keep her wits about her. She was a witch and a banshee. That meant she was dangerous.

And she’d taken Sully. Ofelia didn’t know how she’d managed to get him out of the house, but he was clearly gone. His essence didn’t even linger.

Furious, Ofelia stomped to the couch and grabbed the book. “If you want this back, you’d better not as much as hurt a hair on his head,” she snapped at the quiet house. Could Shirley hear her? There was no way of knowing. Ofelia was ready to rampage, though, and she needed Shirley to know what she was capable of.

“I will end your son, too,” Ofelia warned. “I don’t care if he’s part of this or not. He knew. He at least had an inkling of what was going on. If you want him to stay alive, you’d better keep Zach alive.”

There was still no answer.

Even though she didn’t want to leave, Ofelia recognized she had no choice. She couldn’t sit here and wait for Shirley to bring Sully back. That wasn’t how it worked. She cast one more disdainful look toward the mirror, briefly wondering if it played into whatever happened, and then she stormed out of the house through the front door, clutching the book.

She had to find Biff. Now, not only was her best friend in danger, but so was her fiancé. She was going to get both of them back, one way or another.

JACK WAS WORKING AT A TABLE in the big meeting room at the paranormal unit’s office when Ofelia stormed in. She was a thin woman to be making as much of a racket as she was with her stomps.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he looked up. “Are you and Sully fighting or something?” The look on her face had him readjusting in an instant. “I’m guessing not.”

“Zach is missing,” Ofelia replied. It took everything she had not to scream the words. “He’s missing, and I need to talk to Biff.”

Jack was good at reading between the lines when a situation warranted it. Now he was genuinely stymied. “Um …”