Shetani's Sister by Iceberg Slim

into Sunset and stopped in a red zone.
    Crane reached across her to open the passenger door. “Consider the hundred and forty bucks as a penalty for your double-cross.” He stroked the back of his hand across her bosom. “Don’t plan anything for tomorrow around two p.m. We’ve got a fuck date at the usual motel.”
    She slid out to the street and stomped away. Minutes later, she was driving her rented car toward the isolated house in the hills that Shetani and the rest of the family now occupied.
    —
    Four days before the end of Rucker’s vacation, a phenomenon occurred in Hollywood. Like lice on a bum, black, white, brown, and Asian hookers reinfested the streets, especially Sunset Boulevard. They had apparently gotten the underworld hot wire that the intense heat was off in Hollywood. For Crane, this was a break and a hardship. The break was that the swarm of hookers camouflaged the action of the Shetani girls, who had embarrassed and frustrated the cops on Crane’s special squad. The hardship for Crane was that Lieutenant Bleeson rode him hard, because Bleeson became the target of the rekindled outrage of civic and business groups.
    Crane and his squad members busted a hundred hookers in a twenty-four-hour period. But still the gaudy flesh tide flooded Hollywood.
    With three days of Rucker’s vacation left, Bleeson decided to call him back to L.A. Bleeson repeatedly called Rucker at his hotel without connecting. The reason was that Rucker and Opal had reconciled, to a degree. They were attending a Broadway show, and after that having a late supper at a fashionable restaurant.
    At 3:00 a.m. Apple time, Bleeson called again. Rucker was performing acrobatics between Opal’s voluptuous thighs when his phone rang. He remained inside her and picked up.
    “Rucker here,” he said breathlessly.
    “Hi, Russ, this is Bleeson. You don’t sound right. You okay?”
    Rucker leaned away from Opal. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. I was involved, let’s put it, with a lady.”
    Bleeson cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, Russ, but we have a condition red out here. The goddamn hookers have all but taken over. It’s unbelievable! I want you back here no later than tomorrow night.”
    Rucker rolled from between Opal’s thighs. “Will do, Lieutenant. See you.”
    They hung up. Rucker opened his arms. Opal topped him and eased him back inside her.

It was noon in the Apple. Shetani lay beside Pee Wee, staring at her while she slept. He’d never owned a thief. He’d always wanted to have one. That and Pee Wee’s hatred of white women had driven him to con her that Petra would be dumped. He decided to send her on a stealing tour of several Midwestern states to get her off-scene. Then, too, he thought, the tour would test her and up his income.
    He lip-brushed her eyelashes until she opened her eyes. “Good morning, Wee,” he said softly as he watched her eyes sweep the room for a moment to realize where she was.
    “Mornin’, She—…uh, Daddy,” she mumbled. She covered a dope-fiend yawn of need with wizard fingers that had burgled pockets from coast to coast.
    He looked at his watch. “Wee, let’s get right,” he said as he took his dope kit from beneath a pillow.
    “I’ll cheer for that, Master,” she said as she swung her feet to the carpet.
    He punched a button on the console of his headboard. Fingers of sunlight sneaked through the half-opened drapes to caress her coffee curves as she went to the bathroom.
    He banged a speedball and saved enough in the large syringe for her. She came out of the bathroom and noticed her luggage from airport lockers in a corner of the room.
    “Eli picked up your bags this morning,” Shetani said as he watched her go to take a black satin gown from a bag. She slipped into it before she returned to bed.
    He said, “Sugar Wee, it’s against my rules to make shit tracks on arms or any spot that’s easy to see. Now, take that mirror off that table, and hit yourself in