Plot™
Also I would like to say i've stayed on the west coast all my life so I don't know how differently the east coast handles it's port towns/weather. I think you guys are lucky enough to get snow over there.
The pier smelled of seaweed and dead fish, so it wasn't anything either of them weren't used to. What was interesting, however, was how the pier was part working pier and part pleasure pier. It was strange to see something that usually attracted tourists in such a xenophobic town, but to it's credit, it wasn't that big and looked to be more suited to town festivals than a tourist attraction. From where they were standing, they could see the huddled buildings on either side of a single street, leading to a large carousel peeking out from the building. It was also very closed, making it seem more sinister than a small pier should be.
The rest of the pier was dedicated to the ports. Naturally there were boats out on the water and docked, so nothing too out of the ordinary. There was a shack facing the working pier and backed against the buildings of the boardwalk. It looked like it sold fishing rods, bait, and almost anything else you would reasonably need for a short fishing trip. It quickly became notable when two men walked out in suits, walked off the docks, right into a car, driving out of view and leaving them the only other humans around. The solitude felt punctuated by the cold air now blowing past them.
"I should have brought the blue jacket." John complains. "You never think about how cold the atlantic sea is until your eyebrows are freezing off."
"Believe me, I know." Rose cracks her pink knuckles, trying to get circulation through and un-stiffening her fingers. "I can't have these becoming icicles on me while I'm writing."
Seagulls squawking over them as they walked down the docks, the distance between them and the shack closing. It was an ugly, faded green thing with windows that still needed to be clean. Clearly sitting so close to the ocean had not been kind to it. The wood looked like it had shrunk or, at least, looked like it would crack into several pieces it it wasn't broken together. Curiously, despite people coming out of the shack, the sign read 'closed'. John, not letting that stop him, turned the doorknob while Rose stood back, convinced it wasn't going to work. Which surprised her when it did, and John too as his weight fell forward. Luckily he was able to catch himself before face planting into the floor.
The two of them walked inside, and just like the docks it was mysteriously empty. Shelves were lined with anything you would need for a fishing trip, predictably, but there was no one at counter. The only windows where at the front and side of the shop, the wooden floor creaking under them as they walked inside. There was a nondescript gray door behind the counter, likely leading to storage. White shelves were lined along the store and sold various types of bait and other fishing equipment, aside from fishing rods like Rose expected. She walks over to the counter, looking over it to see if someone was behind it for whatever reason.
"You don't think those men that left were the owners?" John asks. He walked around the shelves, stopping on a particularly creaky board to playfully lean his weight on.
"Unlikely." She says quickly, moving behind the counter now, pushing past the wood flap and standing behind the register. "Too overdressed." Predictably there where shelves on her side, which were stuffed with jars and a single rifle. She spotted something white stuffed under a change jar,
"Rose, I have money." John says, before she even gets the chance to bend down and look at everything below. "We don't need to rob this place."
"John, if I was going to, I would do it with the Cashier." She boasts. "I'm no coward."
John laughs, and she picks up the jar, realizing it was a piece of folded paper. She unfolds it, and John tries to lean over the counter to read it.
'Watch the store.' it read in scribbled writing. 'If I find out you've skipped again I'm making you sleep out on the boat tonight.'
"That's a tall threat." He comments. He stands up straight, pointing to the gray door behind her. "Think he's in there?"
She opens it, leading to a single storage cluttered storage room with shelves pushed against the walls. There was another door on the other side of the room, half open and with a light breeze whistling through the crack. Wordlessly, Rose walks over and opens it, realizing it leads out to the back alleys of the pleasure pier. They both looked out, and could hear voices in the distance. They looked at each other, and both of knew they had to investigate.
Rose lead the way like before, guiding John through the dirty alleyways. Trash and thick clumps of dirt were stuffed into the corners and cracks of the pier and creases of the buildings. Old, rotting boxes and barrels were scattered around, apparently with no actual purpose. As they drew nearer to the voices, it seemed to become somewhat clearer. Rose trudges forward, turning and exiting out the alley and into main street. The buildings were gray and the colors muted, and everything was silent again. Rose looks around, trying to listen for the voices again, but there aren't any.
She stood in the middle of the empty pier, focusing on the wind whistling through the buildings. There was something… off about this town, and she felt it the moment they drove in. She wondered what the voices were, the men in suits… were they connected? Were they hiding something? Was this town profiting off of some type criminal organization?
John calls for her, and she turns to see him peeking out from the alleyway. He waves her over, taking his hat off.
"I think they left." He says. "Listen, let's just go back into town. I think we'll have more luck there than here."
"But there were people here." Rose insists. "Isn't that worth looking into? I think this place is hiding something."
"And I don't doubt you. I mean, on the people being here thing. But I think we might get arrested for trespassing. That might have been a security guard for all we know."
Rose frowns, unable to accept that John was right. But she knows she has to, and she sighs.
"Fine, let's find our way out and–"
"Hey there… Sheba."
A smooth, flirtatious voice interrupts her, surprising both of them.. Rose turns around, seeing a single person leaning against the wall.
He looked… actually, he looked like an older teenager, or just in his early twenties. His hair was slicked back in an attempt to look like some kind of handsome ruffian. He had some muscle for his age, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He only wore a tattered, white shirt with faded stains from dirt or dust. Some kind of white stick hung out of his mouth, and upon closer inspection she realized it was an unlit cigarette. There was an air of… sleaziness about him, and from the way he addressed her and presented himself, he clearly perceived himself as a Casanova. She frowns, giving him a scowl in response. He just whistles.
Rose sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Of all the things she needed, some cocky young adult making passes at her was not one of them. John, taking the initiative, comes forward.
"Uh, hello." He says. "Do um… you live here?"
"John…" Rose murmurs, wanting to comment on it being the wrong question for their situation, but the boy speaks up again.
"Yeah, everyone does. I can tell you guys aren't from here." He grins, taking special notice of Rose. "Especially you."
She gives him a scowl. "I'm not interested."
He throws up his hands in mock defeat, turning around to walk away "Alright, alright, guess I'll just leave then!"
"Hey, wait!" John says, stopping him. "We actually need someone to help us. We're investigating a missing person's case."
The boy stops dead in his tracks. "A missing person, huh?"
"Right." Rose answers. "A girl. About twenty, long black hair."
"I know a lot of girls who look like that." He says, turning around. "That's why I'm interested in you."
She sighs, pinching her nose and sighing in disgust, "What is your name, please? This is serious."
"I'm Cronus." He boasts, "I'm the guy they go to for everything."
"No you aren't." Surprisingly, coming from John. "Sir, we are serious about this. So, as would appreciate it if you treated this seriously as well."
Cronus leans up against the wall, taking the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, looking it over. Clearly, the irony of playing with an unlit cigarette was lost on him. He was all bark and no bite, it was plain as day.
"Well, I don't know what anyone would want to do here. There's never anythin going on." He says. "Everyone here looks alike too, ya know. Dark hair and all. I think you guys would notice that."
"Well, if it'll help jog your memory, this is what she looks like." John takes out a photo, presenting it to Cronus while he puts the unlit cigarette back into his mouth. His cocky grin disappears once he sees the photo, and he seems genuinely surprised. Not scared, just surprised. She takes some pleasure in seeing him squirm. However, her thoughts from before come back, and she wonders if her crime theory is correct. If it was, then she would need to get him to tell her everything.
"So, you've seen her then?" She crosses her arms. Cronus shakes his head, backing away.
"No! I've never seen her, I just thought she looked like someone I knew!" he says. Rose steps forward, and his earlier facade crumbles, now genuinely imitated by her.
"Then why don't you tell us who?" she says, taking hold of his shirt collar. He doesn't even fight her, but John tries to hold her back, which doesn't phase her. "Or maybe, you can help us by telling us where you recognize her from?"
"Don't say anything else, Cronus."
Rose looks up, loosing her grip on Cronus' collar. John looks up as well, and they both see a girl at the end of the alleyway, where Cronus was before. She's about the same age as Cronus, lanky and tall, but twice as threatening. Her eyes and hair are dark, tied back in two long braids. She held an old baseball bat, worn and clearly used. Bizarrely, she was smiling at them. Not a grin like Cronus, but an all tooth smile. Cronus looks halfway relieved, but the fear from before doesn't completely leave him.
John pulls Rose back, and she lets go of Cronus, regaining her composure. She dusts off her jacket, watching as Cronus gets away from her and goes to the girl. Not too close, though.
"Sorry about my partner." John says, "She's had some high tensions since we came in. We're investigating a missing person's case."
"Didn't think hounding chumps was investigatin." She says. Rose flinches, running her hand through her bangs.
"It isn't." Rose forces out. "I apologize for harassing him. But, this case is serious, if what I believe is true."
"Oh?" The girl crosses her arms. "What's that?"
"That your town is hiding something." she accuses. "I don't think you earn a reputation Newport's without a reason."
She laughs. "Whatever you think lady."
"But you do know who we're looking for, right?" John says. "You looked like you listening in on us."
"Yeah. I was." she says. "Lotta girls here have black hair. It's not anythin special."
"But this girl was dropped off here. The bus driver told us he did. He said she looked scared, like someone was after her." John explains. She could tell he wasn't trying to make it personal, but it was a struggle for him. "We've even talked to the hotel owner, but he said she didn't check in. We think she might live her."
"Then she isn't missing." the girl says. "She just came back home."
"Well, if that's the case, does the name Feferi sound familar?" John asks.
"No." she says. "Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you." John says. He turns away, and Rose can tell that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, or was expecting. She follows him, and there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that their suspicions were right.
I dont use as much slang because it felt weird in vague 1920s vill.
i promise the next chapter wont take as long. I feel like I've gotten over a slump.