BACK TO THE TRAILER (IN MEXICO)
my abode. Sometimes I couldn't believe what a
fucking fool I could be. Coming around the side I
ducked down under the kitchenette window and
placed my back next to the open door. A rental
scooter was parked about twenty feet away.
My dog, Ramos, a flea bitten old mutt was no where to
be found. The smell of a really nice perfume mixed
with the aroma of coconut oil sunscreen was
wafting out of the trailer as I gingerly stepped
through the door holding my knife down against my
thigh. Sitting on my bed, smoking a cigarette and
drinking from a can of beer, was a older and very
good looking woman. She was wearing a cleavage
revealing lime green bathing suit and a pair of
cutoff jeans. Her wear was cut short and was
grayish blonde. I remembered it as strawberry
blonde. Feeling the trailer shift as I stepped in, she
turned and smiled at me. Ramos, the traitor, was
laying on the bed with his head in her lap as she
scratched his mangy head. I felt like I was in the
middle of an acid flashback. I walked over and shut
off the stereo.
"Son of a bitch! Look who's here."
She smiled brightly at me. "You've lost
weight but you look taller."
"That's a weird way to greet someone that
you haven't seen in almost thirty years. Almost rude
one could say."
She laughed. "Well, forgive me, this is kind
of a weird situation. And you do look different from
what I remember. Different but not bad. You've got
the beach bum look down that's for sure. That's all I
"Well, it's been a long time, Reggie. Things
change. How are you?"
She nodded at the knife. "You can put that
away." She leaned back on her hands. Even from
this distance I could see a tiny bead of sweat run
down her tanned cleavage. Bad habits die hard.
I folded the blade and dropped the knife in
"I guess I can do that. It doesn't look
like you could have a pistol on you the way you're
dressed. So are you here to arrest me? Let's just get
this out of the way. I know why you're here. I didn't
kill that NIS agent. I was there but Brewer did it. It
was a traffic stop gone wrong. Ricky freaked
because he and his old lady were dealing all that
dope and he thought that he was going to get
busted. Jesus Christ, I'm almost fifty fucking years
old. Can't you people give it up?"
Her green eyes flashed in anger at me and
then she looked down to the floor. "I know all that
but I'm not here on business."
"Bullshit! So you're the one that wrote that
fucking letter. I should have goddamn known! I
almost fucking drowned in Galveston but I guess I
was lucky that a goddamn hurricane was hitting the
island or else the cops would have been there to
arrest me. The weather kind of fucked up their
stakeout. You were setting my ass up again. Just
like in Pearl Harbor."
"I didn't set you up in Pearl Harbor and I
wrote you that letter to warn you! I didn't fucking
think that you'd go up there to kill Brewer."
"I didn't kill him. The cocksucker was
already dead when I got there. Someone shot.." I
realized suddenly what was happening and what
was being said between us. "Wait a fucking minute
here! Just who the hell are you working for now? It
still can't be for NIS. Even they couldn't be that
fucking concerned about that ancient murder to
waste the cash on sending someone all the way
down here to check out old leads. Who the hell are
you working for? What the fuck are you doing
here? How much do you know about what's
happened to me since I left the Navy?" Ramos,
startled by my tone of voice, jumped off the bed and
ran out the trailer.
Reggie stood and flicked her cigarette butt
out the window and quickly lit another one up. "No,
I retired from the Navy years ago. I've been
working for another agency for almost ten years. I
can't tell you who it is but after September 11th I've
been working closely with the Department of
Homeland Security. Running background
investigations, looking over intelligence on
domestic terrorism, monitoring wiretaps, Patriot
Act bullshit. And then one day an old case file just
was magically dumped on my desk. It really rang a
bell. Some supervisor saw my name in it as a
previous investigator on the case so they thought I
might be interested in it."
"Me? The file was on me?"
Cigarette smoke streamed out of her nose. In
spite of my worked up self it seemed oh so sexy.
"No, not you. Seems like an old ex-prison snitch
named Ricky Brewer who had turned himself into
some sort of a semi-professional computer detective
was trying to sell information on an old murder of a
NIS agent that happened in Hawaii almost three
decades ago. He said he even had gotten his hand
on the murder weapon. He also claimed that the
murderer had in his possession a large photo album
containing photos of a sexual nature involving
many military officials and political figures. Very
graphic shit! Snorting coke, anal, oral sex, bondage,
shit that ran the whole gamut. Brewer had copies of
some of the photos but said the originals and
negatives were in the photo album. Some of these
people mentioned do in fact hold some very high
and important public offices right now and the
snitch, that nasty prick Ricky Brewer, claimed the
person who was holding this photo album planned
on using it for a huge blackmail scam. The fucking
media would eat that shit up with a spoon if it was
I sat down on a stool across from her. "It
was Brewer and Mason and Rose who were pulling
that scam off. Not me. I didn't know about it until
the night before I shipped out of Pearl. Mason got
all liquored up and babbled on about it. I thought it
was just all bullshit until now."
Reggie let out a sigh. "I always thought
Rose was into something a lot deeper than working
for a call girl service. She was a sweet girl really.
Just real mixed up."
"What do you think happened to her?"
"Her last known whereabouts was
supposedly at the house of an Admiral in Pearl. He
denied everything and his alibi checked out. It's
been too many years. Nothing will come of it."
Reggie stared deeply into my eyes. "But I'm
telling you straight right now. Whoever has that
photo album, if it does exist, is in very serious
danger. There are people in our government who
are willing to kill to get their hands on it. Things
have changed since 9/11."
"I don't have it if that's what you're here for.
Anyway, people working for the government are the
last people that I'm going to lose sleep over. You
could say that I have a much more hardcore bunch
who would like to stumble on to my ass these days. If
they found me, a prison cell would be a cakewalk
compared to what these assholes would do to me."
She paused for several seconds and then
took a deep breath. "Did you really kill those two
people after you broke out of that security
I walked over to the cooler and grabbed two
beers and handed one to her. "So you do know. I
guess your agency does have big ears. Doesn't it?" I
sat back down across from her. "I had to or I was
one dead motherfucker. It was just one bad thing
after another in my life that started when I was
barely out of high school and led me to that
moment. A fucking nightmare."
She nodded her head. "la Favor."
I gave a short laugh. "I forgot I told you
about him. I guess I never could keep my mouth
shut once I climbed into your bed. You sure could
work your magic."
"Did you really walk away from that trailer
with 150,000 dollars in cash?"
"150 large? Is that what they said? Hell no!
It was closer to 200 grand. It was so heavy I could
hardly carry the bag into the airport. Whoever said
150 either couldn't count or they had been
skimming on the cut."
Reggie's face turned serious. "Those Nazis
still have a contract out on your ass! Still, after all
these years. That's what Brewer's game was.
Through all his Internet research, prison ties, and
government flunkies and informants he was talking
to, he devised a plan. He'd get the Feds interested in
the old NIS murder and grease the wheels with that
idea about the photo album and they'd track you
down. Once you were in custody and inside a
federal prison you'd be an open target for the AB or
the Nazis. Our intelligence reported that he was in
almost constant contact with them about you. And
then he'd collect the reward. It's nothing to sneeze
at. A quarter of a million is a shitload of money,
especially for a scumbag like Brewer. I just don't
think he realized how dangerous a game he was
"Who killed Brewer. The Feds, the
She took a sip of beer and looked out the
window. "I really don't know. Brewer was piece of
shit. No one is crying in their beer that's he's dead,
that's for damn sure. The world is better off without
I didn't want to ask the next question. "Then
why are you here? Don't even tell me that you're
here to catch some sun and relax. That this meeting
is just a coincidence."
She didn't answer. Just kept sitting there
looking out the window. I slipped my shirt over my
head. "Look at this." She turned and looked at the
tattoo over my heart. "You broke my fucking heart
the day I saw you in that courtroom. I've never
gotten over you, that's a goddamn fact. But if you're
here to arrest me or shoot me, either way, let's get
this shit over with. I'm getting to old to keep on
TODAY - DEJA VU ALL OVER AGAIN
better get dressed."
"You really need to get his tattoo colored in
again. Being out in the sun all day long is fading it."
We were laying in my tiny bed, our bodies
intertwined and covered in sweat. Reggie was lazily
tracing her finger over the outlines of my tattoo.
The moment seemed strangely familiar.
"Does your husband have your named
tattooed on his chest?"
"Hell no! This is my fourth time down the
altar and not one of them has ever done anything
near as romantic as that."
"I can't believe that you've been married
four fucking times. Unbelievable."
"Well, my line of work plays hell on the
married life. That's for sure."
I felt maudlin all of a sudden. "Does he treat
you good? Are you happy?"
She looked up at me. "The Captain? As good
as a seventy year old man can. He is very sweet and
I'll never have to worry about money again. The sex
isn't that great of course. But with Viagra.."
"I guess I don't need to hear anymore."
She stood up and walk naked down the short
hall of the Airstream and began getting dressed.
Pulling on a pair of black panties over those
gorgeous tanned legs. Aging had been so gentle on
her. A few extra pounds but incredibly sexy. "Are
I laid back with my hands behind my head
and stared up at the ceiling. "Without a doubt."
Suddenly and without warning, I felt an
incredible pressure on my chest! Jesus Christ! I was
having a fucking heart attack! No, it couldn't be
heart attack. The pain was coming from the right
side not the left. I clutched my chest and looked
down. My hands and the sheet were covered in
blood. I tried to speak but nothing came out. Just a
squeaky gasp. Trying to take a deep breath was
impossible! The closest doctor had to be five miles
away. In a panic I looked up to Reggie for help. She
was already standing over me. I could swear that I
could still see smoke coming out of the silencer.
The bitch had shot me! First I had been shot by a
midget and now by a topless woman wearing
nothing but black panties! At the angle I was laying
in the bed the bullet had hit me just under the
collarbone. The bullet must have exited out the back
because down feathers were floating in the air. She
quickly cuffed my hands over my head to the bed
Reggie had my knife in her other hand. "I
can't believe you never got that goddamn tattoo
removed or covered up after all these years. You
certainly are the romantic. Now I'm going to have to
cut the fucking thing out. I certainly can't leave my
name inscribed on your chest."
She leaned over and stuck the silencer's barrel against my forehead as she stuck the knife against the tattoo hard enough
that it felt like the blade had gone in at least half an
"Tell me where the briefcase is and if it's
where you say it is, I'll call the police after my ferry
gets to the mainland and have them send a doctor. I
don't think you'll bleed to death in that time."
"Fuck you, you lying bitch," I whispered
"Still trying to be the tough guy, huh?"
Reggie walked over and put a CD in the stereo and
cranked it up. "Still like that redneck shit, don't
She leaned over me and stuck a dirty sock in
my mouth then stuck the knife deep into the tattoo
again, one hand against my throat to steady herself
as she carved the knife around the tattoo. I closed
my eyes and screamed in pain as I bucked my legs
up and down in a feeble attempt to knock her off of
me. Suddenly she stood up and flicked the piece of
flesh against a window curtain, tore the curtain
loose, and folded it up.
She pulled the sock out my mouth. "Tell me
where the briefcase is and you'll live. I promise I'll
call for a doctor when I get to the mainland."
I nodded to her. "OK," I gasped. "Just down
the road there's a burned down cantina. Against the
north wall there's a hole in the wall with a burned
out candle sitting in it. Dig down about three, four,
fuck, I don't know how may goddamn feet. That's
where your goddamn case is. There's a shovel
underneath the trailer. It's sand. Easy digging."
She tapped my face with my knife. "That's a
good boy. But if you're bullshitting me, I'll come
straight back here. And this time I'll cut your cock
off and shove it down your throat."
She leaned over me and dragged her hard nipples across my face.
I didn't look at her as she dressed but I heard
her walk out the trailer door, dig around underneath
for the shovel, and start up my GEO over the stereo:
"People say I'm no good and crazy as a loon
Cause I get stoned in the morning
I get drunk in the afternoon"
I lay there in that hot sweaty trailer as the
blood ran out of me and I waited. And waited. And
waited some more.
The explosion was loud that it shook my
trailer. Seconds later it sounded like it was hailing
outside as something metallic sounding rained down
on to the roof of my trailer. Then I smiled and
closed my eyes. Because I had to wait no longer.
made it out there alive, but that was some pretty
poetic shit I wrote at the end, huh? The hail coming
down on to my trailer was from the mine that
exploded when Reggie stuck her shovel into the top
it. The fucking thing was packed with hundreds of
stainless steel ball bearings. Since Reggie was
standing directly over it when the mine exploded,
the force of the blast practically vaporized her. The
key word there is explode. Since the mine exploded
not imploded, and the briefcase was under the mine,
it survived almost without a scratch. The sound of
blast alerted Javier who got to me before I nodded
off into the Big Sleep and I was whisked off to the
mainland by boat where I was laid up in the hospital
for almost a month. It was there that the Feds finally
caught up to me. It was quite a wild scene in my
room. Javier had rounded some of his old buddies
up from his days in the police department to watch
over me. Big dudes with bad fucking attitudes,
brandishing shiny long knives and automatic
weapons, and they had the Feds shitting in their
knickers for a while.
Of course, they still ran the whole line of bullshit at me. I was going to be arrested. I was going to do the hardest time
imaginable. I was going to the Super-Max prison in
Colorado where I was going to get turned out by the
Black Panthers, the Mexican Mafia, and the Aryan
Brotherhood. I was going to be a bitch with an
asshole so big you could drive a Ford pickup
through it. One dildo even threatened to send me to
Cuba where they have all the terrorists locked up.
But they were missing one crucial item and they
The briefcase! The briefcase was gone. And
the only person who knew where it was, wasn't
fucking talking. Me! When it was all said and done,
they didn't give a hot shit about the NIS agent killed
all those years ago, or me breaking out of the
nuthouse and shooting those dirtbags in that trailer,
or even Reggie - one of their own - blowing her
sweet ass to hell digging up that mine. They wanted
that goddamn briefcase. Not even the whole
Just the photos and the negatives showing
****** **** (my agreement with the Feds negates
me from writing HIS name), all coked up, naked
except for black dress socks, getting a hum job from
a beautiful hooker.
I had them by the nuts and they knew it.
They could send me off to prison. They could even
kill me. But that picture. That fucking picture would
still be out there. It could resurface anytime at my
command. So they cut me a deal. They'd give me a
new identity (the third one of my life) and shoot my
ass straight into the Witness Protection Program.
Give me protection from the skinheads and the
Nazis. With one condition.
"Keep your fucking
mouth shut and never let that photo or it's negatives
see the light of day or your ass will be deeper in
concrete that Jimmy Hoffa."
I guess I can live with that.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
meat packing plant town located in southern
Minnesota. After fulfilling his dream of getting the
hell out of there (just not in the way he wanted it),
he has traveled around the United States, Germany,
Mexico, Canada, Austria, Switzerland, Holland, and
the Pacific. He has been a pizza delivery boy, sailor,
drug dealer, bartender, longshoreman, Cuban cigar
importer, and more recently, a writer. Currently he
is a member of the United States Witness Protection
Program. He has been shot twice and stabbed once.
To catch a glimpse of him you'll need to rent or buy
a copy of Girls Gone Wild Cancun - in the
background of one scene where a young lady
wearing a neon pink bikini flashes her huge jugs
you can see Anonymous (wearing wraparound
shades and a Pittsburgh Steelers ball cap) cheering
her on with a raised Corona in one hand and a
Cuban cigar in the other.
Scott L. Anderson has been employed as a sailor,
soldier, prison guard, and as an attendant at a
maximum security mental hospital. Inspiration for
his writing comes from both his personal
experiences and the experiences of the people that
he has been lucky to know in his life.
Salt On The Nuts was the original working title and manuscript which eventually resulted in Snorting The Devil's Dandruff which is available at most online book vendors.