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“That’s all for now!” she croaked weakly to the dudes in the back. “Don’t leave town!”
Loud snores were their only reply.
When they got back to the car, LaTisha jumped in Sharpetta’s shit with both feet.
“Look, babe, in my racket you got to do what you have to to get the dope,” Sharpetta snapped, trying to get her face together in the rearview mirror. “You ought to commend my willingness to sacrifice my virtue for the cause.”
“‘Babe’? ‘Racket’? You sound like that dykey female cop on The Wire!”
Sharpetta looked at LaTisha out of the corner of her eye a minute, then, grinning slyly, set a damp wad of cash on the dashboard.
“What is this?” LaTisha asked.
“Your cut.”
“My cut of what?”
Sharpetta snickered. “What them sorry sacks of shit was supposed to give the hos.”
“Good God, Mama! Call the police!” LaTisha groaned.
“Hey! Slow your roll, cutie-pie.” Sharpetta started the car. “Your man was here, alright, but he left. Those two mopes gave up the address he cut out to. If we’re quick, we can get right over there and bust him!”
Her name was Delilah. She was frail and trembling like a little girl, but she was ready for grown-up games in a see-through nightgown and a pair of crotchless, black lace panties.
She sat on her bed, dabbing at her eyes with a hankie. Sharpetta and LaTisha stood on either side of her. LaTisha wanted to take her in her arms and comfort her, and she wanted to kick her ass.
Sharpetta was only in ass-kicking mode.
“Straighten up, you home-wrecking bitch!” she snarled.
“He was only here a little while. He acted like something was bothering him. We didn’t do anything. Honest, I didn’t know he was married,” the girl wailed. “He never told me. I never would have dated him if I’d known.”
LaTisha said, “Maybe we should just go—”
“Fuck this gold-diggin’
bitch!” Sharpetta shouted.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” LaTisha said, looking away from the weeping girl.
“Okay. I’ll take a statement from her funky ass and we can blow this pop stand,” Sharpetta said. “Say! I left my tape recorder in the car. Would you get it?”
“Sure,” LaTisha said, happy to have an excuse to leave.
She was halfway to the car before she realized that Sharpetta had not given her the keys. When she got back to Delilah’s apartment, the door was locked. She knocked. No one answered. She knocked again. Then she heard moans, cussing, calling on Jesus, and the hot and wet sounds of Divine Sixty-nine—mutual cunnilingus…
Sharpetta came out about half an hour later, grinning and freshening her lipstick. LaTisha was fit to be tied.
“Getting to the bottom of things again?” LaTisha asked.
Sharpetta shrugged and they walked to her car.
They could see the girl’s apartment window from there. She was standing in the window naked. She mouthed the words Bye, Mommy, winked, and wiggled her ass.
Sharpetta blew her a kiss, then flicked her long, lascivious pink tongue at her. The girl giggled and started stroking herself between the legs.
“Silly ho,” Sharpetta said to LaTisha as they pulled off. “Thinks she can get over on Sharpetta Kensington. I led her down a slippery slope.”
