L-Noir – Part 4

The air crackled with the dry heat brought by the Santa Ana winds. Al loved it for the hint of danger and the undercurrent of energy that permeated the valley. She rode through the night, her thoughts as focused as the beam of her headlight. Tonight was the night. She had picked Nick up at 4 o’clock, as promised, and dropped her off at The Planet with a quick review of the plan. Now it was up to Al to make the rendezvous and exact the revenge. With that thought, an anticipatory smirk appeared; this was going to be fun.

Al cut her engine and coasted to a stop in front of Nick’s bungalow. Sure enough, Shane’s truck was parked in the driveway, blocking in Nick’s own car. Al could see a single lamp was on in the master bedroom, it’s soft glow lighting the drawn shades. Carefully stepping on weeds to muffle the sound of her boots on gravel, Al crept around toward the back door. She paused beneath the bedroom window, which was slightly ajar, and listened. The sound of bed springs and heavy breathing wafted out the window and down to Al’s ears. "Good," she thought to herself. "The night isn’t over yet."

Shane was known for her refusal to sleep over with any woman, believing it was a short trip from waking up next to someone to renting a U-Haul. She was probably right, Al admitted, but that did not absolve Shane of her heartbreaking ways. Shane being Shane, Al needed to catch her at just the right moment—postcoital and preflight.

Moving swiftly to the back door, Al carefully tried the doorknob. True to her word, Nick had left it unlocked. Al slowly pushed open the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the hinges moved smoothly and silently. Bless that redhead, anyway. Stepping through the door into the kitchen, Al paused to let her senses adjust to her surroundings. Her eyes soon took in the layout of the small kitchen and identified the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She tiptoed to the carpeted hall, careful to avoid making more noise than absolutely necessary.

Once in the hall, All took out the scissors she had stowed inside her leather jacket. They’d been sharpened and oiled, readied for the job. She carefully squatted beside the doorway to the master bedroom and looked through the inches left by the not-quite-closed door. Holy guacamole, Nick is hot! Al shook her head. Focus, Pieszecki, focus. You are not here to scope out Nick, you are here to teach Shane a lesson. Taking as deep a breath as she could without disturbing the silence, Al concentrated on calming her own hormones.