Sneak peek #2 of "Jazzy Ladies Productions"

I’M SURE DIONNE DOESN’T MIND THREESOMES

“How come the only time I get to see you is when we’re out with these two?” Camille asked Dionne.

It was another Saturday night and Dionne found herself on another double date with Camille as her partner.

Vinson and Dionne met up with April and Camille at Johnnie’s Sports Bar. Dionne didn’t feel like going out but she promised Vinson she would. She wanted to keep the night simple so Vinson figured shooting pool over wings and a few drinks would suffice. 

“What are you talking about? We just kicked it like two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, two weeks.”

“I told you already, I don’t really have a lot of free time. Work keeps me pretty busy.”

“You don’t ever get a day off?”

“Yeah, but it can change with the quickness. There’s no such thing as a nine to five when it comes to delinquents.”

“Well, as long as I’m not the problem.”

Dionne looked at Vinson who hid his smile in the palm of his hand. “Of course not,” she replied.

“Good ‘cause I’d like to think I provide a good stress releaser for you.” She nibbled on Dionne’s earlobe and finished, “I’ll always be open when you need me.”

There was a loud roar from behind them. Vinson and Dionne’s eyes fell on the television mounted above the bar. The Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets football team were playing the University of Georgia Bulldogs in a crucial instate rivalry game. Lewis Bootie had just sacked Georgia’s quarterback, knocking UGA out of field goal range, squandering their chance at taking the lead that possession.

“Yeah Boot!” Dionne shouted.

“Yellow Jackets all day!” Vinson yelled and slapped Dionne five.

Camille tried to pin Dionne against the pool table for a kiss but Dionne scooted around her. Vinson shook his head. He knew he owed his friend big time for this one.

“Well, hello,” a familiar voice from behind spoke. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Vinson turned around and saw Kim staring directly at Dionne. The connection between the two of them was undeniable. Maybe he wouldn’t have to make this night up to Dionne after all.

“Hey Kim, what’s up?” Vinson’s grin disappeared when he saw Teresa walking over with a tray holding two drinks and a basket full of wings.

“Vinson, I didn’t even see you over there but then again, Dionne has a way of catching my undivided attention.”

Camille couldn’t help but notice the change in Dionne’s posture and the smile on her face when looking at Kim. Camille knew they weren’t exclusive, not to mention she had a few secrets of her own but that didn’t mean she was going to lie down and play dead tonight.

“Hi, and you are?” Camille sneered as she interlocked her arm with Dionne’s arm.

Kim didn’t even flinch.

“I’m Kim, a friend of Dionne’s.”

“Really? I don’t recall her mentioning you before.”

“Well, that’s not uncommon. Everyone knows great things are best kept secret.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Before Camille could retaliate with another smart comeback, Dionne unhinged herself and went over to make small talk with Teresa.

“So, what are you two up to tonight?” Dionne asked.

“We just hanging,” Teresa replied. “Being cooped up in the house makes her stir crazy.”

“I bet.”

“Ya’ll don’t mind if we join you, do you?” Kim walked over to Dionne and asked.

Now Camille was annoyed. “Actually, we’re on a double date.”

“So? Let’s make it a triple. I’m sure Dionne doesn’t mind threesomes,” Kim responded.

Vinson spat the beer in his mouth onto the floor. Dionne glared at him as he laughed guiltily at her expense.

“Teresa honey, let me get some change. I’m feeling up to playing some pool.”

Camille walked over to where Vinson and April were sitting.

“This bitch bold as hell,” Camille grunted as she took a sip of her drink.

April replied, “Girl! Flirting with Dionne while you’re here is one thing but Vin says that’s her girl over there acting like nothing is up.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Vinson responded.

“What do you mean, she does that?”

Vinson knew he should have kept his mouth shut as soon as he opened it but it was too late now. The only thing he could do was make it seem as though Dionne and Kim’s interaction was nothing for Camille to worry about.

Vinson shrugged his shoulders and said, “We all went bowling a few weeks back and Kim was flirting with Dionne but Teresa didn’t say anything then either.”

“So, you knew about this bitch and didn’t tell me?” Camille said angrily.

“Can’t you see Kim is just one of those chicks who likes attention? Besides, she’s gotta girl and Dionne doesn’t cross those lines.”

April glanced at Camille and took a sip of her drink.

Camille cleared her throat and asked, “But what if Dionne really likes her?”

“Doesn’t matter. Dionne doesn’t mess around with somebody who already gotta girl. That shit comes back around fast and bites hard as hell and she ain’t tryna suffer the type of pain love brings.”

“Who’s next!” Kim screamed and raised her arms in victory.

“Whatever. You cheated,” Dionne frowned.

“How?”

“You moved the ball,” Dionne pointed to the table.

“You scratched.”

“Yeah but you can’t put the cue ball next to the eight ball. Everybody knows you can’t line up a shot inside the breaking pane.”

“You should’ve established the rules before starting the game,” Kim said.

“That’s a standard rule,” Dionne replied. “That’s like reneging in spades then saying I should’ve told you you had to play the suit played. It’s common sense.”

“Common to who?”

“Wow. You know what, it’s not that serious.” Dionne put down the pool stick. “Fine, you win.”

“Why don’t we play partners this time around,” Camille strolled over and kissed Dionne on the cheek.

“Or even better, mixed partners,” Kim countered. “Let’s see if Dionne is nice enough to let you win.”

“Oh, I don’t let nobody win,” Dionne replied. “You gotta work hard if you wanna beat this.”

“Trust me, I know.” Kim smiled in Camille’s direction before finishing, “That’s why I’m cherishing the one win I already got tonight and studying up on how to get more.”

Camille stepped out of her high heels and started taking her earrings off.

April stood in front of her to block her path. “No, Camille.”

“I’m through with her taking cheap shots at me, April.”

“Was it something I said?” Kim asked with a smirk on her face.

Camille tried to side-step April but April wasn’t going to let her pass.

“Let her go,” Vinson smiled.

“Now you have something to say,” April snapped back.

“The game’s a blowout. Besides, a cat fight’s a lot more exciting than any football game I’ll ever watch.”

“Straight perve,” Dionne laughed.

“I don’t know what you laughing at,” Vinson whispered in Dionne’s ear. “The one you don’t want is the one willing to fight for you.”

“That don’t mean she’ll win,” Dionne whispered back.

“You think Kim can take Camille?” Vinson said with skepticism. “I don’t think so.”

“A woman with that much mouth gots to know how to hold her own. If not, she would’ve had her teeth knocked out by now.”

Camille finally stopped struggling with April. “Fine,” she huffed, “but we need to go now before I show Ms. Thang over there what side of Marian I grew up on.”

April and Vinson escorted Camille outside while Dionne stayed behind to say their goodbyes.

“Leaving already?” Kim asked nonchalantly.

“You know you weren’t right.”

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. I actually consider this me being on my best behavior.”

“Ha! I’d definitely hate to see you at your worst then.”

“You sure about that?”

Dionne started to respond but looked up at Teresa and thought better of it. This time she would let Kim get the last word. Another victory she was sure Kim took notice of.

By the time Dionne made it to the parking lot, she knew the car pool arrangements had changed and she wasn’t happy about it.

Vinson eyes were apologetic before he even began. “I was gonna ride with April so I was wondering if you could take Camille home?”

“Wait a minute.” Dionne bumped shoulders with Vinson hard as she walked passed him on her way to Camille.

“Camille, I apologize about tonight.”

“You don’t have to do that. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks. Look, I’m not feeling too well,” Dionne lied. “You mind if April drop you home?”

Camille was shocked but she was not ready to give up. “I don’t mind staying with you to make sure you feel better.”

“That’s sweet but my niece is home and I don’t bring women home when she’s there.”

“Why not just come to my place?”

“I got cramps. That time of the month. I just want to make some hot tea, put a warm heating pad on my back and go to sleep.”

Dionne knew Camille was disappointed but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel like being bothered. Camille provided Dionne no mental stimulation which put Camille in the dog house. Dionne’s sexual drive and performance was dictated by her mind being gratified first. If there was no excitement upstairs, there would be no excitement downstairs.

“Okay,” Camille sighed. “Call me tomorrow if you feel better.”

Dionne produced a weak smile and gave Camille a quick peck on the lips. “Of course.”

On the way to her car, Dionne winked at Vinson and said, “Have fun.”

Sneak peek of "Jazzy Ladies Productions"

IF SHE ONLY KNEW WHAT I’VE DONE FOR HER

It’s always the sweaty handprint that gives you away. The pressure print I call it. I don’t know why no one ever thinks about it. It’s where you brace yourself because you’re unaware of what will come over you. The rush of adrenaline that surges without warning and knocks you off your feet like a shock from an electrical outlet. No matter how careful you are, you can’t stop your hands from sweating and you damn sure can’t find that moment you need to catch your breath. It is after all, the first time you’ve killed someone. Not even a trained assassin can keep their body temperature normal at the sight of fresh blood caused by their own hands. Sweaty palms, sweaty forehead, it’s just the body’s way of calming itself down after the deed is done but it happens so quickly that it produces a slight bit of vertigo. That’s when you leave the one piece of incriminating evidence behind that proves you were there. With some, it may be the handprint on top of a desk or a chair they grabbed to brace themselves. For me, it was the handprint on the wall.

Pamela blew the last drag of smoke from her cigarette into the cold, brisk air. She stood in the shadows across the street from the building the body was found. The officer standing guard looked young and easily persuadable. She would have no problem getting back inside but she had to be efficient. Nothing could be left to chance.

Pamela pinched the end of her cigarette and placed the butt in her pants pocket. Norfolk detectives were slow to respond to any crime calls around the holidays but that didn’t mean they worked sloppy to solve the cases. A dead body in their jurisdiction would bring out investigators and the crime dogs. Most criminals avoided this city in the Hampton Roads district of Virginia especially during the day but Pamela wanted a challenge. It added to the thrill of the game.

“How are you doing, Officer?” Pamela said as she approached the uniform cop standing in front of the condemned building. She pulled her Pea coat tight around her neck to protect herself from the sharp wind.

The officer put his hand up and blocked Pamela’s path inside the single-story apartment. “Ma’am, you can’t enter.”

Pamela flashed her credentials and quickly introduced herself.

“My name is Federal Agent Pearce. I was in the area when your call came across the radio.” Pamela sidestepped his defense tactic and entered the vacant room to survey the scene. “You’re the only one here?”

“Yes ma’am. Um, so why are the feds interested in a dead homeless guy?”

“There have been a few dead homeless people popping up all over the Hampton Roads cities. Mayor thinks there may be something behind it.”

“Like a serial killer?” the officer asked surprised.

“May be. Can you show me where the body is?”

“Sure.”

Pamela followed the officer to the back bedroom in the left corner of the house. The body of a male victim was lying face down on the floor covered by a thick, dirty blanket.

Everything was just as she left it hours before; cracked window, mouse droppings, dead mice and rat poisoning next to a partially eaten hamburger, French fries and soft drink.

“Yep, this might be my guy,” Pamela said. “These same items were found next to the other bodies, too.”

“I don’t remember seeing other cases of dead homeless people…”

“You wouldn’t,” Pamela cut him off. “Every jurisdiction has their own detectives handling the cases. It’s not until unsolved cases like these get filtered up to my department and we see the common threads. That’s why I’m here.”

Pamela slipped on a pair of latex gloves and knelt down beside the body. She made sure her knee didn’t touch the carpet and accidentally leave any fibers behind.

“I already checked his pockets,” the officer said. “I didn’t find any ID on him. He was probably squatting here to keep warm.”

Pamela smiled. She knew exactly where her handprint rested but she needed privacy to wash it away.

“I need you to leave the room so I can see if this death has anything new I can add to my profile of this killer.”

“I, I don’t know,” the officer stuttered. “Maybe we should just wait ‘til a detective gets here.”

Pamela stood to her feet and got right in the officer’s face. He could see his own beads of sweat forming on his brow in the reflection of her dark sunglasses.

“I know this is out of protocol but let’s just say the NPD detectives aren’t too happy the feds were called in to investigate deaths in their jurisdiction. I need to do my analysis before they get here, before the territory wars begin.”

“Well…”

The hard lines in Pamela’s face softened. The tips of her ears and nose finally warmed up and returned to their natural shade of sandy brown. The clear gloss coating her pink lips curled into a smile. “I’ll owe you. Let’s say, dinner on me. You can be the first to show me around town.” The officer was still hesitant so Pamela read his nametag and became more personable. “Officer Curtis, catching this guy is going to be big news and I’m sure your commander, maybe even the Mayor will be the first in line to give you a commendation for helping me find this bastard.”

Officer Curtis rubbed his chin and smiled. “A commendation, huh?”

“We are talking about a serial killer.”

“Okay. I’ll give you your space, as long as I can still get that dinner date.”

Pamela placed her hand on his arm and rubbed gently. Her charm was irresistible to many. “Of course and I’ll even give you a tip to get on the detective’s good side when they get here.”

“What’s that?”

“Question anybody you see outside close to the street. See if you can find any witnesses who may have seen something?”

“In this neighborhood?”

“You never know. There may still be one good Samaritan out there.”

After the officer left, Pamela reached into her coat pockets. From her left, she pulled out a folded washcloth and from her right, she pulled out a twelve-ounce soda bottle filled with bleach.

If she only knew what I’ve done for her. Only then would she realize how far I’ll go to keep her…

Forty-five minutes later, two detectives parked in front of the building where they received the 911 call about a dead body.

“I thought they said foot patrol called in the DOA,” Detective Ross said to his partner as they looked at the unmanned building.

“It’s too cold for this shit today,” Detective Donahue groaned. The state issued leather gloves he wore made it hard for him to use the push-talk car radio so he handed it to Ross. “Call dispatch and find out what’s going on.”

As Ross placed the call to dispatch, Donahue tapped him on the knee and pointed through the windshield at a uniformed cop across the street.

“Cancel that dispatch,” Ross said into the radio. “We found him.” Ross placed the radio down and exited the car. “What the hell is he doing over there?”

Donahue turned the engine off and squeezed his way from behind the wheel of the car. “We always end up with the ambitious pricks that want to do more than their job requires.”

Ross waved at the officer to get his attention. The officer could see the gold shield attached to Ross’s belt and hurried over.

“You the officer who called in the dead body?” Ross asked.

“Yes sir,” he stated proudly. Glancing down at his notepad, he said, “I canvassed the area for witnesses but no one’s seen anything.”

“Just show us where the body is,” Donahue mumbled.

As Officer Curtis led them to the apartment, he replied, “An Agent Pearce is already in the room doing a profile analysis for the serial killer.”

“Agent Pearce?” Ross said confused.

“What serial killer?” Donahue asked.

“She said FBI was called in because there was a serial killer targeting homeless people in the Hampton Roads area.”

Both detectives looked at each other before urging Officer Curtis to hustle.

Officer Curtis guided the detectives to where he left Agent Pearce. When they entered the room, there was no one in sight.

“She was just here a minute ago.”

Ross put his hands on his hips and surveyed the scene. Donahue took out a sixteen-ounce water bottle from the inside pocket of his trench coat and spit tobacco juice from his chewing tobacco into the container. He wiped the lingering drool hanging from his freshly trimmed beard with the back of his hand then secured the top back on the bottle.

The cold air from the open window sent chills down Ross’s spine. The faint smell of bleach saturated the air.

“Whoever she was, she came back to clean up,” Ross said putting on a pair of latex gloves. He handed a pair to his partner who snatched them and popped himself from the recoil.

“Damn it!”

“Chill out, Donahue.”

“Chill out? We’re not gonna find anything now!”

“We know one thing,” Ross began as he picked over the leftover food and rat poisoning, “it’s definitely a murder and we probably wouldn’t have gathered that from what I see here.”

“Why’s that?” Officer Curtis asked.

“Take a look,” Ross waved him over. “If he’s a squatter, he knew abandoned buildings would have rodents, especially if he was storing food here. You don’t need a lot of rat poisoning to kill someone. If this so called fed didn’t show up and through suspicion our way, we might’ve assumed he consumed the poison by accident trying to keep the rats away.”

“So, she actually helped us out by showing up.” Officer Curtis sounded relieved.

“Don’t be too happy there,” Donahue grunted. “You still let her back in to clean up whatever she left behind.” Donahue turned to Officer Curtis and barked, “Did you really think there’d be a serial killer on the loose and we not know about it?”

“She said no one had pieced it together yet because different detectives were working the cases across the district. It made sense.”

“It made sense,” Donahue repeated sarcastically. “Of course it made sense to someone as green as you.”

“She showed me her credentials, sir. She seemed legit.”

“Tell that to the Captain when you get back to the station, alright? See if he buys it.”

Ross shook his head. He’s seen his share of young officers making mistakes but this one took the cake.

“I need you to tell me everything that looks different now then when you first entered the scene. She might’ve cleaned up but she may’ve also come back to get something she left behind.”

Officer Curtis slowly rotated his head from right to left. “The only thing I noticed is that the window was only cracked when I first got here and now it’s wide open.”

“Probably how she escaped. She knew she couldn’t come back out through the front. Anything else?”

Officer Curtis took his time looking around the room. He scanned the body from head to toe but nothing else looked different. “No sir. That’s it.”

“How long you been on the job, kid?” Donahue asked nonchalantly.

“Three years.”

 Donahue cleared his mouth of tobacco juice again. “You might wanna start looking for a new line of work.”

Coming Out Stories

In a section of my new novel, "Jazzy Ladies Productions", friends have gathered to support a friend who has decided to come out to her mom. They share their coming out stories to give her an idea of the good and bad she may experience.

Have you shared your coming out story to help someone in coming out to a friends, family, co-worker, etc? What are some of your coming out stories and how did that person(s) you came out to react? Do you think it's better to do it early in life (i.e. teenager or college years) or later on in life?