Page 129 of Left Behind

Dani didn’t know what to think. This was the most interest Ava had shown about anything since Wiley put up her swing set and Aaron bought her the little swimming pool for their backyard. Ava was finally blossoming as the normal little girl she should have been.

***

Corina ended her fourteen-hour shift and dragged herself back to the cabin. The ship was docking in New Orleans tomorrow morning, and she was getting the hell off of it. This was the most miserable seven days of her life. She hadn’t been sober this long since she was fourteen. Between her dissatisfaction and the noise, she’d turned into a bitch, and she knew it.

She packed her stuff and then fell into bed without eating or showering. All she wanted was an escape, and that came with sleep. When she finally did sleep, she dreamed of before—of Clyde Wallace, and the times they got high together, and the times he used her for a punching bag. And sometimes, a little face would pop into the dream. Ava. Staring at her. Watching her. Eating the scraps from Corina’s plate. Scurrying into the shadows like a little rat. And then Corina would wake up in a panic, thinking the kid was still there, haunting her. Then the dream morphed to Miss Mattie’s doorstep. Corina was beating on the door, begging her to open it, when she woke up remembering Miss Mattie was dead. Ava was gone. And Corina was on a return trip from nowhere, coming back to nothing.

Maybe she’d just stay in New Orleans. It held possibilities that Conway, Arkansas, did not. She could start over. No one knew her or her story. She glanced at the time. It was almost 5:00 a.m. She groaned, threw back the covers, slipped down from the top bunk past Patsy’s snores, and staggered to the bathroom, stripped, and finally showered off the smell of yesterday.

A short while later, she was dressed and digging in the mini fridge for something to eat. Her hair was still wet from her shampoo and shower when there was a sudden hammering on the door.

Patsy rolled over. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Corina muttered, and opened the door. Two ship’s officers were on the threshold.

“Corina Dalton?”

“Yes, that’s me,” she said.

“We are your escort off the ship. Get your things.”

“Uh.. I’ll need my passport and—”

“You will be given what is owed to you. Come with us.”

Patsy stood up. “You’re leaving?”

“As fast as my legs will carry me,” Corina muttered. “I’m not the type to play Jonah in the belly of a whale. This is the worst damn job I ever had, and believe me, sister, I’ve had a few. I’d rather fuck a duck for free than do this again.”

And then she was gone.

Within the hour she was on the streets of New Orleans with her passport in her purse and less than two hundred dollars for the ride she’d just taken. She had no place to live. Next to no clothes. No car, and four thousand dollars in the bank for having sold it. It was time to regroup.

Two hours later, she was in a motel with a newspaper, a breakfast sandwich, and a bottle of beer, going through the help wanted section before heading out into the city, making the rounds of jobs that needed no résumés.

By the time the sun went down, she was in a bar down in the French Quarter. The leather on the barstool was a little cracked on the edge. She could feel it rubbing against the leg of her pants, but her beer was cold and the place was lively. Right down her alley. She was looking forward to getting back to her room. Tonight, she would sleep in quiet, with the air-conditioning blasting cold air. No snoring roommate. No throbbing sounds of the powerful engines below. Just silence.

***

He’d been watching her all night. She’d had five beers and flashed cash when she paid. She was just shy of too drunk to know where she was going, and he needed a fix, so when she left the bar alone, he followed, staying far enough back in the crowded streets not to be spotted, and kept with her all the way to where she was staying, then into the building and down the hall behind her.

He watched her fumbling for her key card, and then the moment she got the door open, he leaped, pushed her inside so hard she hit the floor face-first.

***

Corina never knew what happened. One moment she was facedown and tasting blood, and then a man was on her back. She tried to scream, but her front teeth had been driven into her lower lip, and all she could muster was a choking moan. The man grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head backward so hard it broke her neck. She was dead before the pain could fully register, and he was already going through her purse.

Fifteen minutes later, he scored what he wanted and headed for his flop. The woman was forgotten. She didn’t matter to him. She was just a means to an end, and he was riding out his high.

***

Housekeeping found her body the next morning.

Just another stranger who was now the responsibility of the New Orleans PD. It didn’t take them long to find out she had priors. They also found a bar tab in her purse. While they were waiting for the coroner, the team from the crime lab was gathering evidence in the room and found her paperwork from the cruise line.

“She was staff on a cruise ship.”

A guy from the lab looked up. “One of the Carnival Cruises docked yesterday morning.”

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