Free Sins of a Siren by Curtis L. Alcutt

woman beating a baseball cap against her leg after entering the station. “I got you, bitch.” He watched her walk up to the ticket counter.
I wish this tape had audio.
He made note of the clerk’s face that assisted Trenda and checked his watch.
I wonder if he works tonight?
He rewound the tape, put it back in its case and shut off the VCR.
    He walked to Mrs. McMurray’s office. “Did you find the person you were looking for?”
    He shook his head. “No…there was no trace of the suspect.”
    â€œI’m sorry to hear that.”
    He gave her a false, disappointed look. “Thanks for your help. I’ll be sure to note in my report how helpful you were.”
    She beamed as he left. “If I can be of any further assistance, don’t hesitate to ask!”
    He walked to the lobby and went to the ticket window of the agent he’d seen Trenda buy her ticket from. “Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me.”
    The frilly clerk gave Darius a flirtatious look. “I’ll certainly try.”
    Darius slid him the photo. “Do you remember seeing this woman a couple nights ago?”
    The clerk looked at the picture, smacked his lips and slid it back to Darius. “Yes…I saw her the other night.”
    â€œDo you remember where she was going?”
    The clerk blushed as Darius smiled at him. “I can’t tell you that.”
    I knew this faggot muthafucka was gonna pull this shit.
Darius looked over his shoulder and saw no one behind him. He then broadened his smile, softened his eyes, placed his hand on the clerk’s as it lay on the counter and sweetened his voice. “Are you
sure
you can’t help me?”
    The clerk giggled like a schoolgirl. “Nooooo, I can’t…I really wish I could but I could get in trouble.”
    Darius rubbed the clerk’s hand. “C’mon, now. I won’t tell.” He looked around and saw a family enter the train station. He was running out of time. “How about you tell me,” he read the clerk’s name badge, “Orlando, and I come back and we go have a drink when you get off?”
    Orlando laced his fingers in Darius’s, smiled and whispered, “Are you
serious
?”
    The family walked up behind Darius. He let go of Orlando’s hand and licked his lips. “You know I am.”
    Orlando wrote a few lines on a blank train ticket, flashed his tongue ring and slid the ticket to Darius. “There’s the information on your train, sir. Enjoy your trip!”
    Darius placed the ticket in his inside jacket pocket. “Thanks.” On the way out of the station, he removed the ticket and read it:
    She took a train to the Jack London Square station in Oakland, California. Oh, and just for the record, my chocolate hunk, I loooove to spoil my man. I get off at one in the morning. My number’s 410.555.9868. Cum back and get me.
    Darius grimaced as he ripped up the ticket and tossed it in a trashcan in the parking lot.
Sick faggot fuck! I’m tempted to come back all right—come back and strangle your gay-ass!
He absently wiped the hand he’d use to hold Orlando’s on his pant leg as he got in his Escalade.
So, that bitch went to the West Coast, huh?
He started the engine. “That ain’t far enough, Trenda. Not far enough at all.”

Thirteen
    T hree days after leaving Baltimore, Trenda’s train pulled into the Jack London Square station a little after 10:00 p.m. She shouldered her bag and walked out into the cool night air. Tendrils of fog danced in the starry sky.
So this is big, bad Oakland.
For a Monday night, there was a lot of traffic in the busy Jack London Square area of downtown Oakland. She looked around and spotted the Waters Edge Hotel within walking distance.
The first thing I need to do is find me a room.
    â€œHey, Mya! Wait up!”
    Trenda whipped her head around and saw Box hustling his way toward her, with