Sins of a Siren (9 page)

A split second later, a woman dressed in a navy blue skirt, white blouse and navy blue blazer emerged from the French doors to Trenda's left, which opened into the large bar/lounge area. “I'm
sorry for the wait. I had to unlock the kitchen door for the food service delivery.” She opened a drawer and placed a card key inside. She tossed her shoulder-length hair over her shoulder. “I'm Lollie. May I help you?”

Her L'Oreal Sea Fleur-colored nails went well with her cognac-brown flesh. “Yeah. You have any rooms available?”

She typed a few strokes on her computer keyboard. “Name?”

I better stick with my alias for now.
“Mya Collins.”

“Smoking or non-smoking?”

“It don't matter—whichever one is cheapest.”

She looked up from her screen and grinned. “I heard that.” She typed a few more strokes. “I have a smoking room down on the first floor and a few other rooms on the upper floors.”

“The first-floor room will work. How much is it?”

“$179 per night.”

Trenda did a double-take as she rummaged through her bag for her wallet. “
Dayum
! Is that for
one
night?”

Before the receptionist could answer, a huge, acne-faced security guard entered the lobby from outside. “Hey, Lollie! How's it goin'?”

Lollie looked at the large white-faced clock mounted on the wall behind the reception desk, then back at the guard. “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. I had to leave the desk and go let the food serviceman in. You know I'm the only one here tonight.”

A crimson hue filled his alabaster face. “Sorry 'bout that. I saw some kids messin' with cars in the back parking lot. I chased 'em out. It took a while for me to check the cars to make sure they didn't get vandalized.”

She rolled her eyes. “Next time, call me on your walkie-talkie and let me know what's going on.”

He slapped himself on the forehead. “Awww, man! I left it in
the back of my truck. I'll be right back!” The large ring of keys hooked to his belt jingled loudly as he hurried out to his truck.

Lollie shook her head and returned her attention back to Trenda. “I apologize. Usually we are much better organized, but the other girl that usually works with me went on maternity leave last week and the manager got sick and went home early.”

As nice as your tits are, you could nurse the hell out of a baby.
“It's all good. Now, how much did you say the room is?”

“It's one-hun—”

The guard came back carrying two sodas. “Hey, Lollie! I got you a Sprite!”

She huffed. “Jason, can't you see I'm with a
customer
?”

He let his gray eyes roam Trenda's curves. “Ohhh, I'm sorry!” He placed the soda can on the counter in front of Lollie. “I'm gonna go check on the deliveryman. I have my walkie-talkie now so buzz me if you need me.”

Trenda removed her wallet and put her bag on the floor next to her. “They need to give you a serious pay raise.”

“That's what I keep telling my boss.” She smiled, picked up the soda and turned back to the computer screen. “Now, let's get you taken care of. Did you want the room?”

Trenda tapped her wallet against her palm. “I dunno…that price is a little rich for my blood. Especially since I only plan on stayin' for one night.”

Lollie stood and leaned on the counter. “Did you just get in town?”

“Yeah. This is my first time here. I'm from Baltimore.”

“Really?” Lollie's eyes lit up. “My grandparents live by Druid Hill Park!”

“No shit? I used to hang out there all the time when I was a kid. That was the spot!”

After ten minutes of small talk, the women found they had a lot in common. “I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did you get that cut on your face?”

“My ex-boyfriend. He's the reason I decided to get away so fast. He's one of those jealous, controlling assholes.”

Lollie crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head. “I can't stand bastards like that.”

They heard the sound of Jason's dangling keys as he left the kitchen and crossed the lounge. Trenda yawned as Lollie walked back behind the counter. “Let me quit runnin' my mouth so you can go get some sleep.”

“I am tired, but I think I'm gonna have to find a cheaper place.” Jason entered the lobby and smiled at Lollie. “You okay? Want me to go get you something to eat?”

She began typing and read the screen. “No thanks, Jason. Why don't you go make sure that exit door on the third floor is closed tight? I found it open a few times last week.”

He hitched up his utility belt. “Will do! I'll be back in a few.” Once he was out of sight, Trenda chuckled. “You know his ass is sprung on you, right?”

Lollie grinned as she finished typing. “Oh yeah, he's been trying to take me out for the past six months. Even after I told him I'm not down with the swirl, he's still tryin'.”

“Don't knock it; he might become your own personal ATM card.”

They both laughed. “Shit! His broke ass can barely afford to put gas in his raggedy pickup truck.” Lollie stood, leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. “Check this out, if you are only gonna stay one night and can check out before eleven in the morning, I'll let you stay for sixty dollars—cash.”

Ohhhh, my girl is a straight hustler!
Trenda recognized Lollie's game. “I'm down with that. How you wanna do this?”

Lollie looked at the clock on the wall. “Meet me by the ice machine down the hall in five minutes and I'll let you in the room. I can't give you a card key though, so you'll have to prop the door open if you have to leave the room.”

Trenda picked up her bag. “Cool.” She then walked outside. Across the street from the hotel, a line of cars played loud music in front of the movie theater.
What's that all about?
She continued toward the ice machine as one of the cars—a yellow Mustang—pulled into the middle of the street and began burning rubber in a circular pattern while the crowd yelled and danced. Trenda stood captivated as she watched the spectacle.

“Do the youngsters in Baltimore ‘go dumb' like these fools?”

Trenda jumped at the sound of Lollie's voice. “No! What the hell are they
doing
?”

Lollie opened the door of a room across from the ice machine. “They are starting up a ‘sideshow.'”

“
Sideshow
? What's that?”

Lollie looked around, pushed the door open and waved Trenda in. “That's when a bunch of knuckleheads, with nothing else to do, get together somewhere in the town and just start acting and driving crazy.”

“Don't they worry about the police?”

“Shit no. The cops are too busy chasing murderers and dope dealers.” Lollie closed the door and turned on the lights. “As a matter of fact, the police station is only a few blocks up the street.”

Trenda put her bag on the queen-sized bed, then sat down beside it. The well-designed and nicely insulated room muffled the loud sound of the sideshow revelers. She took her wallet out of her bag. “I really appreciate you hookin' me up.”

Lollie walked over and peeked out of the eggshell-colored drapes. “Don't sweat it. All you have to do is make sure you don't use the phone and leave before ten. As long as you do that, it's all good.
I have a housekeeper I work with that will clean it up, no questions asked, for a few bucks.”

Trenda grinned, removed sixty dollars from her wallet and handed it to Lollie. “Thanks for the hook-up, girl. I'm likin' Oakland already.”

Lollie tucked the cash into her bra. “Don't sweat it.” She checked her watch. “I gotta bet back inside before Jason thinks I've been kidnapped. If you're not busy Wednesday night, you oughta go to Fats with me.”

Trenda unzipped her jacket, revealing her white satin bra. “What's
Fats
?”

Lollie glanced at Trenda's impressive breasts. “It's the hottest club in the Bay Area. Wednesday nights is Ladies Night.”

“I might just do that. You got a number?”

Lollie walked over to the nightstand, picked up the complimentary notepad and wrote down her number. She handed it to Trenda. “Here you go. That's my cell number. Give me a call about nine. I'll pick you up.”

“Thanks, I'll holla at you.” Once Lollie was gone, Trenda stripped off her clothes, pulled back the covers, fell back on the comfy bed and burrowed under the covers. As her eyes tried to close, her cell phone rang. She rolled toward the nightstand where her phone lay. “Who the hell is this?” She picked up the phone and read the caller ID. “What the fuck Griff doin' callin' me this late at night?” She shut the phone off. “He can wait until tomorrow.”

A
s Trenda fell asleep, Darius and Tyrone sat in their unmarked patrol car going over the files on Piper Langford's case. Tyrone shook his head as he read her medical reports. “Damn! Trenda fucked her
up
!”

Darius took a swallow of his Dunkin Doughnuts coffee. “Yeah, Trenda hit her in the back of the head so hard, she gave her a small skull fracture. It messed up Piper's vision…she's gonna have to wear glasses from now on.”

Tyrone stuck the reports back into the folder and placed it on the dashboard. “Her rich-ass daddy is raisin' all kinds of hell. I heard he got his golf buddy, the mayor, involved.”

“Yeah…I saw Captain Kelly and that evil Internal Affairs investigator, Mrs. King-Bey, walkin' to his office together. I could tell they were talkin' about me by the way they got all quiet when I passed them up.”

Tyrone tossed his empty coffee cup out the window. “I heard they are gonna bring us in for questionin' in a few days. Shit is gettin' hot. If they find Trenda, we are done.”

Darius picked up the folder off the dashboard and went through the papers. “I think I have a backup plan to make sure they don't find her…did you read the psychological profile on Piper? She has some serious violence issues.”

He handed Tyrone the three-page psychological profile he had managed to obtain on Piper. Tyrone scanned the sheets. “Damn… she tried to stab her third-grade teacher with a pencil, hit a girl
in the head with a bat in seventh grade, tried to run over her boyfriend in her senior year of high school, and threatened to kill her college professor after he gave her a B-minus on a final. This Piper chick has issues.”

Darius nodded. “She has issues and an influential family that kept her out of jail. I'm gonna make use of her ‘issues' with your help.”

“What you mean with
my
help?”

“I'm gonna need you to pay a visit to Piper and give her some information on Trenda I'm sure she would love to have.”

“Why you want
me
to go?”

“Because, dumb-ass, she saw
my
picture in that video, remember? She might fuck around and come at me and I'll have to hurt that crazy bitch. Besides, I have a plan.”

Darius waited as Tyrone let that information simmer in his mind. He knew his partner didn't have much choice. Tyrone exhaled loudly. “So, what's this
plan
?”

Trenda woke up refreshed a little after nine. The cut under her eye and her sore shin felt much better. The wound on her shoulder still ached with vigor. Pissed that she had no clean clothes left, she showered and put on the pink sweatsuit she wore a few days ago. She stood in the mirror, combed her short afro and inspected her cut.
At least it's starting to scab over…please don't leave a scar!
She went to the nightstand, unplugged her phone and checked Griff's message. “Trenda! That muthafucka, Darius, came by my place lookin' for you. I dunno what kinda shit you in, but I don't need you bringin' me no mo' heat. Do me a favor and stay the fuck away from here 'til you get yo' shit straight.”

Trenda rubbed her hand through her hair.
I knew that cock-houndin' bastard Darius was gonna start some shit.
She then exhaled, packed up her stuff and left the room. Outside, the crisp morning air blowing off the estuary greeted her. The not unpleasant scent of salty sea air surrounded her. Halfway across the plaza, the aroma of eggs, bacon and toast rode the air. She followed her nose and entered Momma's Café.

The hole-in-the-wall eatery had a reputation for having the most massive and tasty omelets in the city. After being seated and ordering a Denver Omelet, Trenda sat back and admired the quaint café. Copper pots and kettles hung from the rafters of the rustic-style restaurant. Pictures of the mothers of many of the happy patrons adorned the walls. One would think a woman ran Momma's Café, but the owner was actually a giant black man named Jesse Martin who served as owner and head chef. His recipes, handed down from his Lake Charles, Louisiana-bred mother, had won numerous awards.