Women of the Mean Streets: Lesbian Noir

by Greg Herren

  “If you don’t keep your end of the bargain, I’m not going to keep mine,” Amanda told him.

  I wanted to say, “But what about the homeless people? They need this,” but Amanda knew what she was doing so I needed to follow her lead.

  Smiley spat on the ground. “Fuck this. I got better places to be.” He took an envelope out of his jacket and threw it at her. “One quarter now, and if you behave I’ll give you the rest next month. Now give me the bag.”

  “No. All or no deal.”

  He spat again, then muttered, “You bitch. You’ll regret being this hard to deal with.” He spun on his heel.

  “Now, Megan!” I guess I didn’t move fast enough because she said, “He’s going for his gun!”

  I pulled the pistol out and pointed it at him, just remembering to flick off the safety in case he did pull a gun.

  Suddenly Amanda wrapped her hands around mine, taking control of the gun. Her finger covered mine on the trigger. The gun exploded and Smiley spun around, a look of surprise on his face.

  “Damn, I was gonna pay you—” But the rest of his words were drowned out with three more shots.

  He slumped over the hood of his car, then rolled down slapping against the pavement.

  “You have to get out of here,” Amanda told me. “I need you to be safe.” She grabbed the blue duffel and stuffed the gun and the envelope that Smiley gave her and shoved it at me.

  “We need to call the police,” I said.

  “I will. I’ll take care of everything. I don’t want you here. Take this,” she pushed the bag into my arms, “and pedal away from here as fast as you can. You know I’ll never hurt you. I’m trying to protect you. I need you to trust me on this. Please? We’ll meet tomorrow. We’ll spend the whole weekend together.”

  I nodded. Smiley made a weird farting sound. I had to trust Amanda.

  I did as she told me, slung the bag over my shoulder and ran to my bike. As I pedaled away I saw that she was opening the trunk of Smiley’s car. Probably looking for a first aid kit.

  But I didn’t dare look back after that. It was dark and these roads weren’t well paved. I couldn’t risk a bike wreck and disobeying Amanda.

  After a few blocks I heard sirens. She had called an ambulance.

  I made another block and saw a police car blazing by, its lights flashing a blinding blue.

  It flashed away, only to be replaced by another strobing blue and red coming from behind me. That car passed me only to suddenly stop right in front of me, making me brake so quickly, I went down.

  I started to untangle myself from the bike, but two police officers were pointing guns at me and telling me not to move.

  I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I started to hyperventilate, then forced myself to think that Amanda would explain everything. I might have to endure a few hours in custody, but she’d come rescue me.

  They roughly handcuffed me and shoved me into the backseat of their patrol car. I didn’t even have time to ask them to lock my bike up.

  It was hours before anyone really talked to me. I was left in a small, windowless room, still handcuffed. I was left for so long I finally had to bang on the door and ask for a bathroom break. Two deputies led me to the bathroom, the woman following me in. There were no doors and she watched me the entire time. I have a shy bladder and it was hard to go even though I really needed to.

  Then they led me back and left me in the room again.

  There must be some mistake, I thought. Amanda must have told the police what happened by now. Someone must know that I’m innocent, but somehow the message hadn’t gotten here yet. I kept hoping that any minute the door would open and she could come in, demand they take the handcuffs off me and let me go.

  But when the door finally opened, it was an older man and younger woman, both in regular clothes, but with badges.

  “So, do you want to confess?” the older man said.

  “Confess? To what? There has to be some mistake.”

  The woman spoke. “I’m Detective Bennett and he’s Detective Halpern. We have some questions we need to ask you, but first let me read you your rights.” Then she did that, just like they do on TV.

  Once she finished the older man again said, “We have plenty of evidence against you, you might as well confess.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The murder of Robinson ‘Smiley’ Jenkins,” the woman said. She seemed much nicer than he was. “Someone fitting your description was at the scene. You were stopped with a duffel containing a pistol that’s been recently fired, several hundred OxyContin, and about five thousand in cash.”

  “What? But that’s not…that’s not what happened. You need to talk to Amanda Waterfield. She was there with me.”

  “Yeah, right,” the older man growled. “She was the one who called it in and said to be on the lookout for a young woman with glasses on a bike.”

  I suddenly felt cold and hot, like I was burning and freezing. “No! You’re lying. Amanda is my girlfriend and she wouldn’t do that to me!”

  They exchanged a look.

  The woman said gently, “Amanda Waterfield and her partner Marion Caldwell claimed that they’ve been together all night. They’re social workers and were with an outreach to the homeless group, when Amanda saw you shoot Smiley Jenkins grab the bag, and then ride away.”

  “We know you murdered him. The only thing we don’t know is what happened to the rest of the money. He had a couple of hundred thousand in the trunk of his car and it’s not there now. What’d you do with it?”

  I couldn’t answer; I couldn’t think. I was so cold and hot, I had to be sick, this had to be a dream.

  No, a nightmare. In my head I could hear Amanda laughing at me, but that couldn’t be true. She was my girlfriend. She said she’d never hurt me. We’d made love. She’d put her hand inside me, fucked me. Fucked me like I’d never been fucked before.

  But the walls were cold and the light was harsh and I couldn’t make myself wake up.

  *

  Sally Ann looked up at the stunning woman walking into her school of public health class. She was the most beautiful woman Sally Ann had ever seen. She walked toward Sally, flashed her a big smile that revealed dazzling dimples, and took the seat right in front.

  “Hi, I’m Amanda, and I’ll need you to watch my back for the whole semester.”

  Devil in Training

  Ali Vali

  Remember you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” Dalton Casey said to his daughter Derby Cain Casey as she put her leather jacket on.

  Cain had finished her final exams at Tulane the week before and was planning a night of fun before her graduation the next day. The last four years had been enjoyable after the pointing and staring had calmed down whenever a professor checked names on the first day of class. Her last name and resemblance to her father were usually good for a long round of whispering and made her laugh because of people’s fascination with organized crime.

  The fact her father was the head of one of the most powerful crime families, not only in New Orleans but in the South, was probably why her social life had been so active. It was either that or the rumors she was next in line for the throne, as she liked to tease, but whatever it was, she had one more night to enjoy this part of her life. Once she collected her business diploma in the morning with the entire Casey clan watching, she’d get her own crew as her father’s graduation gift. Since high school she’d worked with Dalton’s most trusted man outside the family, Walt Kennedy, making deliveries and other tasks no one ever spoke of again. From her first day Walt hadn’t treated her like Dalton’s kid and had expected her to follow orders like the rest of his guys.

  Every Casey started at the bottom, not only to toughen them up and make them learn their business, but to teach them every potential weak spot in the system. Working for Walt taught her the business, but sitting with her Da every night was where she got her true education.

  “I promise to
do you proud, Da, and not fall on my face before they hand me my diploma.” She slipped Dalton’s other gift into front pocket of her coat as he looked on. The switchblade was the only weapon she ever carried.

  “You do that, and I won’t be able to keep your mum from getting on that stage and picking you up by your ear and smacking you in the head,” he said, laughing. “Billy’s not going with you?”

  “He said he’d meet up with me when he’s done with Walt and the guys,” she said, referring to her younger brother, who’d taken her place on Walt’s crew.

  “How about Lou?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s only a few drinks with some of my classmates.”

  “Listen to your Da,” said her mother, Therese. “You go out and something happens to you, and I’ll put you over my knee as soon as I know you’re okay.”

  Cain laughed at her parents’ protective nature, but she wasn’t about to argue. The world was a dangerous place for everyone, but in her position, going out unprotected wasn’t a way to prove she was ready for more responsibility.

  “You two ready?” she asked Lou Romano and Merrick Runyon. Lou she’d known all her life, and Merrick had been with Dalton for two years. They were unquestionably loyal, equally vicious when needed, and her first recruits.

  “Let’s enjoy tonight, because Mr. Dalton said the bikes are being retired after this,” Lou said. “Your promotion means sedans from now on.”

  “I guess getting what you want doesn’t mean getting everything you want.”

  “Beats the hell out of any entry-level position your friends will be starting next week,” Merrick said, making her and Lou laugh before the Harleys drowned her out.

  *

  Their first stop was a bar Cain felt better suited for her parents, but her classmates had wanted to meet somewhere quiet so they could plan out their night. There were enough people engaged in conversations in the Royal Orleans Oak Bar to cause a din, but it was still subdued compared to some of their neighbors on Bourbon Street.

  “You guys want to get a head start on trying to act grown up,” Cain said when she saw the five martini glasses, each still containing an olive. “Make sure you get that first paycheck before you start pickling your livers.”

  “You should be thrilled, considering I hear your family’s business revolves around liquor, so don’t make fun of us,” the newest male member to their group said, not to Cain’s amusement. “You won’t have to schlep from place to place trying to find something that’ll at least pay the rent.”

  “I’m sure Cain will have other concerns once she starts working for her father,” Nicolette Blanc said, changing Cain’s mind about leaving right away. She was the only exchange student Cain had befriended and the main reason she’d agreed to join the little celebration that night.

  The story Nicolette told the day she’d approached her after a math class their sophomore year was that she was from the northern wine region of France. Her directness had instantly made Cain wary. The unknown, especially in people, was something Dalton liked to preach about.

  When Nicolette started talking about her family’s wine business and how perhaps they could work together, Cain’s defenses solidified. This was a potential ploy by the FBI to topple her family through what they saw as the weakest but closest link to Dalton. Cain knew all that, but when the fire was this beautiful, it was hard not to play.

  “Would you care for another one?” Cain asked, taking the seat next to Nicolette. They’d flirted for years, but she’d never given in where Nicolette was concerned.

  “I’d love another.” Nicolette used her answer as an excuse to put her hand on the side of Cain’s neck. “This might be the last treat you can give me,” she said, her English flawless, but still tinged with a French accent.

  “When do you head back?” The bartender nodded when Cain held up Nicolette’s glass.

  “After graduation my parents and I’ll be on holiday here for two weeks, but after that we go home to our grapes.” Nicolette rubbed Cain’s neck gently a few times before removing her hand. “Will you miss me?”

  “I’m sure the vineyard has a phone.” Cain took a sip of the beer once the server opened it for her. “We’ll keep in touch, and if I get some time off, France might be a good vacation spot.”

  “Paris is on everyone’s wish list when looking for romance, but the north is as enticing, I think.” Nicolette never lost eye contact with Cain as she lifted her fresh drink, running her tongue along her bottom lip after her sip in a way that made Cain fantasize about how it would feel on any part of her. “Do you consider yourself a romantic, Cain?”

  “If you’re talking about flowers and chocolates—no, I’m not.”

  The way Nicolette had turned in her seat gave them a little privacy, and the rest of their group left them to their talk for now. If Cain wanted safe, she’d end it there and concentrate her efforts on Lydia, the other female with them, since she knew exactly who she was and everything about her, including what it took to make her come so hard she’d do anything in return.

  Tonight, though, wasn’t about safe. Cain never ignored any of her father’s advice, but she wanted to learn something on her own. If Nicolette, who from their first meeting had known everything about her as if she’d done extensive research, really was a trap, just how far was she willing to go to snare her? It’d be a good gauge for the future if the FBI thought all that was needed to cloud her judgment was a beautiful woman. The lesson she was most interested in now was if young eager agents did everything necessary to get the job done, or did they fuck for Uncle Sam if the prize was worthy enough of winning.

  “Flowers you buy your mother, and chocolates you get for children,” Nicolette said before draining her second drink. “Come with me and I’ll explain my definition of romance.”

  Cain watched her climb the half flight of steps to the lobby before standing and motioning for Lou and Merrick to stay put. She followed Nicolette to the restrooms located past the empty ballrooms, and leaned against the wall when Nicolette locked the door behind her.

  “We are young,” Nicolette said, standing in front of her but not touching her. “For us romance isn’t defined by such clichéd things, but simply by passion.” The word passion sounded incredibly sexy with Nicolette’s accent. “But perhaps you feel no passion when you look at me.”

  “Never underestimate what you make me feel whenever I see you,” Cain said, not moving.

  “Ah,” Nicolette smiled, “you are waiting for me to make the first move. Interesting.”

  “Actually, I’m waiting to hear how you know so much about me.” Cain followed the path of Nicolette’s hand with her eyes but didn’t stop her from untucking the front of her shirt. The feel of Nicolette’s nails right above her navel made her abdominal muscles contract, and she momentarily lost concentration when Nicolette bent over and circled the same area with her tongue.

  “My father told me after I said we’d met. You might not believe me, but we have much in common, as do our families.”

  Nicolette used only her index finger next to trace along the skin above her belt, but this time Cain locked eyes with her and placed her hand at the base of Nicolette’s neck. “Was he doing a class project on immigrant Irish families?”

  “Cain, you have nothing to fear from me or my father,” Nicolette said, not appearing scared when Cain squeezed her neck enough that she stopped moving. “Our wine is very good, but quality costs money.”

  “Anything worth having usually does.”

  “Then you must know we, too, have figured out how to cut out the things that unfairly eat into our profits. I believe you know because it’s the reason so many watch your family like the French authorities watch mine.”

  Cain had to give Nicolette credit in staying calm when she increased the pressure to what she knew was slightly painful. “This is an interesting seduction, and I don’t think I got that part wrong.”

  “You wanted to know something, and I’m telling you.”
/>
  “True, but why now? You’ve got two weeks in the States, and you pick now to bring this up? What exactly do you want?”

  Nicolette laughed and flattened her hand on her abdomen. “Perhaps you aren’t very experienced at this if you have to ask what I’m after.”

  “There’s a difference between fucking and fucking around, so don’t act cute,” Cain said, letting go and moving away to tuck her shirt back in.

  “My father wants to meet yours and discuss a deal that can be lucrative to both of them. It’s why he’s staying in the city after graduation.” Nicolette pushed her hair behind her shoulders and took a deep breath. “That’s his interests. Mine, though, are to stop our games and do something about the teasing we’ve done for too long. I have a great need to experience all I can before I go home, and you I desire.”

  “I’m Dalton Casey’s daughter, not his secretary. If your father wants to talk to him, tell him to call his office.” She unlocked the door and pulled it open. “We’ll see about the rest.”

  Merrick and Lou were waiting close by and didn’t say anything as she walked back to the bar. The others had settled their tabs and were ready to move on to some place with a little more action.

  “I have to eat something first,” Lydia said, accepting Cain’s help with her coat. “If not, y’all will have to carry me home.”

  “Cain should treat since you got the best job,” one of the guys said, making even Cain laugh.

  To walk off their drinks, they followed Cain to Mr. B’s restaurant after she promised to pick up the tab. When the hostess seated them, Nicolette sat at the other end of the table directly across from Cain. Their game hadn’t ended, but Cain figured Nicolette was making her work for it instead of simply giving in. It was true that elusive things were more enticing when it came to the hunt, but in this chase she wasn’t entirely sure who Nicolette considered the prey.