Pier Lights by Ella M. Kaye

is Lina?”
    “Who? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
    A stage name. Of course. “The girl who lives
here. Do you know where she is?”
    “If I did I wouldn’t tell you. Go on outta
here now.”
    “Look lady, I’m a friend of hers and I heard
she was sick. I just want to check on her.”
    “Sick. Right. Drunk more likely. And it
doesn’t matter after today. She’s leaving. Now get on outta here.
We don’t want you and your black mask in our building scaring the
heck outta people. I don’t scare easy. You just gave me a start
yesterday, that’s all, so go on now.”
    “I’m not trying to scare anyone. What do you
mean she’s leaving?”
    “Leaving, as I said.
Now get . Before I
call the cops.”
    Dio clenched his jaw. “Fine. I’m going. If
you see her, tell her I need to speak to her and I’ll be at work
tonight. Would you do that?”
    “Why should I?”
    “Because you’re a human being?”
    “Hmph. Get out now.”
    With a shake of the head, Dio left before
she could make good on calling the police. He didn’t need that kind
of trouble.
    Lina was leaving? And it wasn’t her real
name. How would he find her? Work records. Hayes would never tell
him. But he could get someone to find out for him. Drunk? The old
lady said she was probably drunk? No. He couldn’t see it. At least
not enough to make herself sick. Not his Lina.
    But what did he really know about her?
    Not even her name.
     
    Caroline pulled her car in front of her
mom’s house and sat looking at it. She shouldn’t have driven out
there, not with her right foot unusable and her left foot not used
to driving. But she made it well enough.
    Did she dare go in? Maybe she could at least
crash there for a while, just long enough to pull her head together
and find another job. She laughed at herself. Pull her head
together at her mom’s. Wishful thinking.
    With a sigh, she pulled away from the curb
and made the slow trek fifteen minutes back to Folly Beach. Passing
the old Folly Boat, Lina looked over as she always did to catch
whatever was newly painted on the hurricane-stranded vessel.
Usually it was horribly uninteresting. Birthday announcements were
dominant, as though everyone else cared. The recent camouflage
paint to wish someone well was nice. Now and then there was actual
artwork on the boat, such as whales in water.
    More writing this time. She slowed and
looked back.
    Lina ... The boat said Lina and something she missed.
    Caroline pulled over, pulled her crutches
out from beside her, and went back to look.
    Lina, work Tuesday night. Please. D.
    D. Dio. Work Tuesday night?
She couldn’t work. She couldn’t even put pressure on her foot. But
she would go. Oh Dio, don’t play games
with me. Please. She wished she had paint
to answer him. Even a Sharpie. Going back to her car, Caroline
searched her glove box and her center column. Nothing. Not even a
dull pencil.
    She’d have to wait and hope he would be
there whether or not she answered. Tuesday wasn’t his work
night.
     

 
     
     
    ~16~
     
     
    She was packed. Everything she could carry
with a backpack or by pushing down the stairs was in her car. The
rest she couldn’t do. Her books, of which there weren’t many but
she’d carted them with her from home, childhood books she wanted to
keep, were in one box with her Starfish collection on top, wrapped
well, not well enough to shove down the stairs. A few pots and pans
were in another. A few mismatched dishes.
    Her landlady had checked to make sure she
knew to be out by nightfall. Caroline assured her she remembered
but asked if she could get some help carrying the boxes to her car.
Pointless.
    With a disparaging frown, the woman told her
it wasn’t her problem, but if they were in the apartment after
nightfall, they would be locked inside of it and would belong to
her.
    It was getting far too close to nightfall.
Lina had spent the first half of the day again looking for a place.
No luck. Nothing she could afford or feel