Smooth Operator by Lynn Emery Page A

for
formality.”
    Keisha raised an eyebrow. She strolled back
to the chair facing Charmaine’s desk, sat down and crossed her
shapely brown legs. “You’re good, but it still won’t work. Look,
I’ve done my homework on you. I have… friends who specialized in...
Let’s just call it research.”
    “Research, right.” Charmaine folded her
arms.
    “Okay, don’t get an attitude. This proposal
can do good things for both of us,” Keisha said. She sighed and
uncrossed her legs. “My husband has a lot of money. He’s as mean as
a bucket of rattlesnakes, and he has lots of enemies. You need
money, and you have skills and experience in making a man...
disappear. I’ll keep your secret, pay you money and you’ll have
something on me.”
    “So we’ll both have to keep our mouths
shut,” Charmaine added and clenched her teeth.
    “Exactly.” Keisha nodded with
satisfaction.
    “Why shouldn’t I just go to the police? You
don’t have proof that I made anyone ‘disappear’ as you put it. Or I
could go to your hubby and tell him of your sincere desire to get
rid of him,” Charmaine shot back.
    Keisha’s expression hardened. “You don’t
really want to put your dear, emotionally fragile baby sister
through the stress. She’s had a few issues since that ugly incident
back when you were kids, hasn’t she? Poor little Jessica. In the
past two years alone she’s been arrested twice for soliciting,
three times for possession of weed, three times for assaulting her
male customers. One might even wonder if she’s about to become a
female serial killer. Girlfriend has some serious anger
issues.”
    Every hair on Charmaine’s body stood at
attention. A prickle of fear mixed with loathing shot through her.
“Don’t threaten my sister.”
    “We don’t have to be enemies. You two had it
hard growing up. I’ve been there, girl. I’m like you, Charmaine; a
survivor. I learned to use men for what I want, instead always
being used by them,” Keisha said with a grimace.
    “No, you’re not like me. And you’re damn
sure not going to be my friend coming in here trying to blackmail
me into killing your rich husband,” Charmaine hissed.
    Kiesha stood and looped her expensive gold
metallic leather purse over the crook of once arm. She actually
almost looked elegant, minus the hair and fingernails. “Jessica is
in trouble again. She’s going to need a good lawyer.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
Charmaine gripped the imitation leather covering the arms of her
cheap office chair.
    “Call her hooker pal Diamond if you don’t
believe me. You haven’t talked to Jessica in three days. That’s
because she’s in the Orleans Parish lock-up, sweetie. She knifed a
guy over drugs or something.” Keisha picked up a small note pad
from Charmaine’s desk. She wrote down a phone number and held out
the pad. When Charmaine didn’t take it, Keisha tossed it onto the
desk. “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
    “You’re lying,” Charmaine said trying not to
panic. Dread washed over her like bone chilling water on her
skin.
    “You already know I’m not. Go help your
sister. I can give you the bail money as part of your payment. We
both know she won’t do well in a jail cell,” Keisha replied. She
put on designer sunglasses and walked out.
    Shaking, Charmaine went to the office door
leading to the outside and slammed home both deadbolts. She went
back to her phone to call the parish jail. Then she stopped and put
down the cordless handset. Charmaine’s second sight, the gift that
was both a blessing and a curse told her that Keisha, aka Mrs.
James LeLand Front, had not lied. Jessi needed to be rescued.
Again.
     
     
    ****
     
    Club Mellow lived up to its name and then
some. No loud music or rowdy patrons allowed. Saturday night at
seven thirty Charmaine sat in a booth with seats upholstered in
real leather the color of red wine. She was drinking whiskey. Her
good friend Scotty stood behind the bar.