THE PECKING ORDER: Hollywood Crime Novels

By Kemosabe

"Mr. Subbs, my name is Candy.” She sauntered toward him and stopped just short of where he sat glaring at her. “That was my white liquor your boys stole up in Dahlonega.” She wore one of her tight red power mini-dresses with white hose and red spiked heels. She had the girls dressed in similar attire stressing their legs and their femininity. She stood with her legs apart, jutting out her chin, and giving him a strong look. "We're here to collect restitution," she said with her nostrils flaring like she smelled something that had died.
"Yer ere tu collet whut? Retitution, whut inna fuck is retitution?” the old man muttered through a bottom lip filled with snuff, the spillage of which stained the wrinkles and whiskers on his chin.
"That just means that you give us back the liquor you stole and money enough to take care of our expenses."
He laughed long and hard. "Woe is me. I'm gunna give ye all the retitution ye need.” His eyes flared malignantly. "Sic um, boys."
Eight young men were in the room standing, sitting, or lying on the floor with their women, children, dogs, and even some chickens. They sprung like a pack of dogs at the four girls.
Candy caught one with a blow to the head that put him away. She kept one eye on Slydell and as he reached for his gun on the table next to him, she whipped out her derringer and covered him. "Hold it, fatso.”
The two of them watched as Black Smoke and her girls demolished Slydell Subbs's remaining seven boys. Black Smoke put away three including Gorgeous Hunk. Wisp and Signal put away two each and fought nearly as ferociously as their mistress. Black Smoke’s girls were strong and fast as lightning. They were shapely and compact and not nearly as tall as their mistress. Like her, they loved fighting and winning.
Candy thought for sure the old house would fall in on them as the children cried, dogs barked, chickens squawked, and boards, and dust flew all over the place. She expected to see a pig come running out of one of the rooms at any moment. In the end only the four mini-skirted women were left standing, flaunting their exposed legs over the vanquished rubes.
As the noise subsided and the dust started to settle Candy said, "Now, Mr. Subbs, you were saying something about restitution?"
"You go fuck yursef,” he snarled.
Black Smoke was on him in a flash. Standing over him she grabbed him by the front of his overalls and slapped him in the face repeatedly. "Now that ain't no way to talk to a lady, redneck.”
She grabbed at the front of his overalls with both hands, unhitched the straps, and yanked them down the front. "Well look a here, Miss Candy, this old man's got himself a money belt.”
She unhooked and yanked it off him as he squealed like a pig. "Nowa ye give thet back, God damn ye. Thur's more’n two thousand dollars in ere,” he screamed.
"What a coincidence, that just covers our damages,” said Candy tipping her fingers to her forehead in a mock salute.
Outside, for good measure she had Jimmy and his boys load both vehicles with as much of Slidell’s whskey as the could carry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kemosabe
• Release date: Jun 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476211619

Kemosabe

Linton Lewis*~KEMOSABE~*Writes #fempowerfiction Bold and Boiled Harddigitally published novels by EdivaSin City Crime Novels,THE BLACK WIDOW RANCHTHE RIVER NILE,The Hollywood Crime NovelsMACHALANDTHE PECKING ORDERCandy Rules Novel,COMING OUT,All can be purchased digitally at Kindle, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, Apple, Sony, Diesel, Kobo, etal.Linton Lewis grew up in Atlanta and attended Georgia Tech University before enlisting in the navy. He studied acting at the Academy Theatre in Atlanta and pursued an acting career in Hollywood while working as a caddy and assistant caddymaster at Bel Air Country Club. He worked as a craps dealer and supervisor on the Las Vegas Strip. He sold real estate in Simi Valley, Atlanta, and Las Vegas before boldly dipping his pen into the boiled hard #fempowerfiction writing inkwell.

Book preview

THE PECKING ORDER

Candy Rules Novels 2

Kemosabe

Ediva

Copyright © 2012 Kemosabe

Smashwords Edition

Published by Kemosabe at Smashwords

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Atlanta 1972

1 The Edge

The wind tossed Candy Evans’ hair every which way as she rode unafraid with Earl Cole in his Cadillac Eldorado convertible deep in Atlanta’s black community. Earl asked her before they left Grove Park, Would you be afraid to go over there with me, Candy?

Afraid? Why, heavens no, Earl. What would I be afraid of?

There is a disreputable element over there, you know.

Shit, Earl, there’s a disreputable element over here as well.

You know what I mean. There are racists there who might want to hurt you because you’re white.

I don’t buy into that shit, Earl. I think that ‘get whitey’ bark is worse than its bite. There are racists here in Grove Park who hate blacks, or at least say they do, but my maid, Nadine, has been coming over here twice a week on the bus for I don’t know how long, and no one’s ever bothered her. I’ve been over there many times, to take her home, and for other reasons. And no one has ever bothered me.

On her right students of Morris Brown College walked through the campus in an orderly fashion seemingly intent on going to and coming from their classes. They dressed more conservative than their fellow students on predominantly white campuses. Even so, according to some, she should feel some kind of fear. Reports abounded of an element in the ghetto that hated whitey, that they would hurt her or Earl if they got the chance just for being white. Candy had never seen them and never felt intimidated. Oh, she knew they must be out there, and if any did seek confrontation she was ready to meet them. At the YWCA downtown she learned self-defense: karate, boxing, wrestling, and judo. Long ago she declared herself a don't tread on me woman.

On Simpson Road Earl pulled over and parked in front of a cabstand. Wait here, hon. I won’t be but a moment. He stepped out of the car and walked toward the cabstand. She wasn’t concerned because this was not out of the ordinary. Earl had already made several other stops always coming back with a manila envelope that he tossed in the trunk of the car.

As Earl walked toward the cabstand, Candy’s eyes drifted to the building next door, a man peeked at Earl from around the corner of it. He watched Earl intensely with large eyes. The man never looked toward Candy riveting all his attention on Earl and the front door of the cabstand. His spooky actions set off an alarm button, for while standing there, he kept his hand inside the pocket of his jacket holding onto an object that could very easily be a handgun.

Candy looked quickly toward Earl with her mouth open to warn him but he had already entered the cabstand. She knew what Earl did for a living was somehow unsavory if not downright illegal. The envelopes had to contain something of value. If not why did Earl go around armed collecting them? She knew he kept a gun in the car and at the last stop she checked and it was missing from its usual spot underneath the dashboard. That must mean he wore it.

Instinctively she lowered herself in the seat and slithered over to the driver’s side next to the street and noiselessly let herself out, keeping the car between her and the man. When Earl came out the man pulled the gun out of his jacket and rushed out from behind the corner of the building toward Earl.

Hold it motherfucka. Hands up. He was extremely agitated. The gun shook in his hand. He came up to Earl and snatched the envelope he carried out of his hand.

You don’t know who you’re fuckin with here, speed. You take that envelope and you’re going to be in deep shit, said Earl

Shut up and keep your hands in the air. The man reached inside Earl’s coat and confiscated the gun. Still covering Earl he backed away from him.

Right before he reached the front bumper of Earl’s Cadillac convertible, Candy, who had inched her way around to the front of the car, lunged and threw her body at the back of his legs in a flying body block. She caught him with her hip and brought him to the sidewalk hard. God that felt good. She didn’t have time to enjoy it. She jumped to her feet like a cat and stepped on the man’s arm still holding the gun with one foot and kicked it out of his hand with the other. Earl was there in a flash and stopped him as he reached to his belt for the gun he had taken from Earl. With one blow Earl knocked the man unconscious.

They quickly looked around and could see no other assailants. No one even appeared to have noticed what happened. Take hold and we’ll drag him to my car, said Earl. They dragged the man over and with some effort pulled him up and dumped him into the back seat. Earl climbed in the back with him. You drive, he said tossing her the keys.

* * *

Toward the end of her senior year in high school Earl called and asked Candy for a date. She felt like a bolt of lightning came out of the sky and struck her. She stammered and stuttered before being able to accept. She puzzled over her reaction for she prided herself at being in control. After all, this was only Earl Cole.

But was it? This was a new Earl Cole. One who by staying away from her made himself enticing. His new lifestyle baffled her. Where did his money come from? Something wasn’t kosher and it shrouded him in an aura of mystery. What was this new Earl Cole all about? She had to find out.

And of course she owed him for helping Atlanta Police Lieutenant Bobby Reid rescue her when those two bozos kidnapped her. She couldn’t believe she fell for Keno’s and Miko’s stunt. She had her heart set on Bobby and knew in time she would entice him to leave his wife and children for her. While she waited, why not check out this new Earl Cole?

The first date went pleasantly. They went to dinner and then to a movie. They stopped on the way home and chatted. He brought her to her house for a good-night kiss and asked her out again. He never mentioned the past and neither did she. What was going on? They’d had quite a relationship during her sophomore year in high school. She had worked on him and had him just where she wanted him before he went off to play football at Auburn. When he quit and came home he acted like they were complete strangers. Candy decided to go along with it as long as he did.

On their next date they went directly to his house and had sex. A long time had passed since Jeremiah, the ex Klansman, and the old Earl. She forgot what it was like to be fucked by a real man. She gave herself to him with gusto. He brought out countless sensuous orgasms buried within. Rapturously she devoured every minute of it. After that night they made love often, spending over half of their time together in the sack.

The new Earl behaved much differently from the old Earl. He projected his persona with a quiet intenseness without his old cocky humor. Sure of his personality he asserted himself more. Not giving of himself made him aloof and mysterious. He did not seem to care if their relationship went sour or not. Yes, he appeared to care for her, but at the same time prepared to flick away her affection as he flicked away a cigarette not caring if their relationship lasted a year or a week.

Earl never talked about where he got his money and Candy never asked. He had plenty of it and spent it with ease. Her knee had bumped against a revolver stashed behind the dash of his car and sometimes she noticed him wearing it in a shoulder holster under his coat. Several times while driving he stopped and picked up an envelope or sometimes dropped one off. Occasionally heated conversations occurred especially when he came back with no envelope.

* * *

In Bolton near the Chattahoochee River, Earl pointed at a warehouse. There, Candy, pull into the parking area and park in front of that roll up door leading into the building.

Which door?

The first one.

She did. Here’s a key to the office door. Go in there and walk through to the garage and open this door from the inside. I’ll stay here with Bonzo.

She did and pulled up the louvered sliding door making a noise. Okay, Earl call out, come back and pull the car in and close the door. She did that too. Take my gun and hold it on him. If he wakes and tries anything blow his brains out. I’ve got to go into the office and call my boss. She gave him a funny look but took the gun.

Earl came back out of the office. I called my boss and he's on his way over. He says to wait for him. I don't know what’s gunna happen. Hey, I sure thank you for what you did back there. That envelope was damned important and I wouldn't look very good if it had come up missing. He smiled. You should have seen yourself in action. I still can't believe it. You moved so fast, like a blur, when you went through that sumbitch and then went for his gun. Weren't you afraid?

Funny, I never thought about it once I made up my mind what I had to do. But Earl, I have to tell you, I enjoyed every fucking moment of it.  They laughed and were drawn to each other. They embraced both still high as a condor from the experience. She could tell Earl wanted to jump her bones more at that moment than he ever had. She wanted him to just as much.

Three men came into the warehouse, one the leader. He took Earl into the office and they got into an intense conversation. The other two took charge of the still-unconscious man. Directly Earl called Candy into the office. Candy, I'd like you to meet my boss, Steven Goldberg. Mr. G, this is my girl, Candy Evans, Earl said jutting his jaw up with pride.

He stood and smiled at Candy. Steven Goldberg was tall and thin in his late thirties. His hair had started to thin. He dressed somewhat flashy but in good taste. I'm happy to meet you, my dear. I want to add my appreciation to that of Earl's. That was a very brave act, especially for a lady so young and so pretty. His eyes flashed admiration.

Thank you, sir. I was glad to be of help.

I'm not unappreciative to those who help me, Candy. What can I do for you in return?

This surprised her for she wasn’t looking for any kind of payment. She did what she did for the excitement--that and helping Earl. She sensed this could be a big opportunity for her. What kind of opportunity? she didn’t know, but she wanted to think about it. She didn’t want to throw this away foolishly. Oh, uh, I can't think of anything right now, Mr. Goldberg, she said with a smile.

When you do, you let me know. He met her eyes telling her he was serious.

I will, she said breathily telling him with her eyes she was serious too and would think of something.

The loving with Earl afterward was controlled hysteria. The excitement of the afternoon carried Candy and Earl into new areas of sexual delight. The danger they both experienced, and especially Candy's, penetrated them like a shaft of light burning into their souls. Each stood in this world as a different breed of cat. She knew Earl could find no other who could bring him such excitement.

Candy decided there was no way in hell she could to go back to her former mundane life. Living on this razor's edge promised too much excitement. She wanted to be a part of Earl Cole’s and Steven Goldberg's world, a world she perceived to be above the law, a world where she could make up her own rules. It looked exciting and pitted with danger, where the tough ruled. She longed to conquer this world and bend it to her own perversions. Tell me about your man Steven Goldberg? she asked Earl.

He was born in Brooklyn. At a young age he developed this knack of beating the odds gambling on sporting events. Before long the bookmakers stopped giving him any action and this forced him to go to work for them. His ability to handicap two teams and set a line knows no equal in the business. He moved around somewhat. He worked for different bookmaking operations in New York, Chicago and Miami. When the chance came to run the operation here in Atlanta he jumped on it. Earl lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Roberto Cipriano controls all the underworld activity in New Orleans. He recruited and financed Mr. G for the Atlanta operation. Mr. G works for him and is part of the Cipriano family but he has much of a free hand in running things here. He started in Atlanta from scratch. It took several years of hard work to get the operation flourishing. He runs a large numbers game or lottery in the black community. The activity at his race and sports book is booming. He also runs a lucrative shylock operation.

Excuse me. shylock operation? Do you mean like the Shylock in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice? Where Shylock lent out money and required as collateral a pound of a man's flesh. When he didn't pay, Shylock demanded this man’s pound of flesh.

Well I've never heard of that play, he chuckled, but that's kind of how it works. We lend money and charge interest. When someone doesn't pay, they're in a whooole lot of trouble.

Earl, you've got to get me an appointment with Mr. Goldberg. You know that favor he promised me? I know what I want to ask of him. I want to go to work for him.

2 Blanket Party

The drained feeling from the long train ride across country eased at the sight of the Pacific Ocean rolled past Jim’s window. This was exciting, new, and beautiful. Maybe joining the Navy wasn’t a mistake. Jim Spencer joined to get out of college. A bus took the new recruits from the railroad station to the base and they unloaded at a large compound. Jim delivered the records of those put under his charge back in Macon and then joined everyone in the loose ranks. He felt somehow deprived now that he was back on everyone else’s level and just another recruit.

Jim scanned the bulletin board anxiously seeking the results posted there of all the test scores of the recruits in Jim’s company. The scores indicated each recruit’s ability to learn. Martini was first, Capers second. Dennis third, and Jim Spencer fourth. Those ahead of him were all Californians. He was the only Southerner who scored high.

When the company commanders weren’t around, the boot camp companies were run by designated recruits. The top dog position was RCPO, and Jim wanted it badly. Chief Petty Officer Zaplewski, the company commander, tried all four of them marching outside the company, calling cadences, and looking for military bearing.

They broke formation and Chief Zaplewski called Jim over. Spencer, you’re far ahead of the other boys in close order drill. With a Polish name, he looked Scandinavian: blond hair and eyebrows, cold blue eyes, a prominent jaw projected toughness.

Thank you, sir. Jim stood at attention.

Were you in some kind of military school or something?

No, sir. I took Jr. ROTC in high school and ROTC in college.

I see. Well I need a RCPO for this company. I’ve been trying different boys out. Do you think you can handle the job?

Yes, sir.

"The only thing I have against you is you’re so damned affable. This job