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From: Willy Tamarack <willytamarack@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "The Chronicles of Willy Tamarack" 5/30 {Willy Tamarack} (MF oral)
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Date: Mon, 27 Jul 2015 07:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Tamarack05.txt" begin>

Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: The Chronicles of Willy Tamarack - A Shooting in Henderson
Part: 5 of 30
Universe:
Summary:
Keywords: (MF oral)
Language: English


***************************************************************************

   @(C) 1996-2015 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the
written permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds
goes to the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   !!!!!  ATTENTION !!!!!

   Before we get going here, several notes.  The following is a sex story.
A stroke story.  A porno story.  The content is unsuitable for youngsters
and some adults may find it objectionable.  I've ensured my material is
properly coded and registered.  Adults, who have custodial responsibility
for young minds, must ensure this smut doesn't fall into their children's
hands.  To charge the government with that responsibility.  Wow !  Don't
get me started.

   All my stories are total fantasy.  They are fiction, made up.  MSU (made
shit up).  I started this effort in several forms before deciding on "The
Chronicles" for a direction.  Yes !  I'm raising Willy from the dead ! 
That's what soap operas are all about !  And if anything, I'm a soap
writer. The action keeps accellerating !  Today's chapters remain in Las
Vegas.  Some Mexican cartel guys start to look for Scooter and Amanda
Fisher and Erin Tamarack.  I sense bad karma !?

   And while the plot and subplots of the following tale stem from the
author's fertile imagination...The characters...Well, the characters are
also total fantasy.  They don't exist, never have and never will.  Any
public figures mentioned are for background and time line purposes only.

   Remember now...Sex should be fun !  As always e-mail your comments to
the usual.

   The Chronicles of

   Willy Tamarack

   A Shooting in Henderson

   (MF oral)

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Thirteen

   Las Vegas, Nevada, USA

   December 2009

   Perry was standing in the shower letting the water hammer down on the
back of his neck.  Mandy was still in bed.  He had no idea where her
daughter was as Erin was sleeping on the day bed in the office.  "Scooter"
and Amanda were in Wendy's room.  He heard Mandy in the bathroom but
couldn't see her moving around through the steam.

   The door opened and Mandy stepped naked into the shower stall.  Perry's
cock immediately felt a jolt of power.  Mandy's hand followed the jolt by
just a second or two and soon Perry's hips were pumping back and forth.

   "All this pussy in the house and you didn't get any last night.  You
poor, man." Perry had his right hand on Mandy's ass, working it's way down
between her legs.  The fingers of his left hand were pulling on the very
turgid nipple of her right breast.  Mandy was jerking his cock back and
forth.  His fingers found her cunt and were pushing up into her.  She was
wet.

   Perry was hard and strong.  He pulled his fingers out from between his
wife's legs and pushed her over.  Mandy put her elbows on her knees and
pushed her ass back.  Perry stepped behind her and pushed his cock up into
her in one thrust, his hands never leaving her hips.  He was in her and
fucking, hard and fast.

   Mandy reached down and grabbed her ankles as Perry pushed her against
the tile wall of the shower.  She was close to cuming.  He was pounding
her. His thick cock reaming around in her belly as he fucked her.  She
reached up with her right hand and rubbed her clitoris as Perry fucked her.
It was on her.  She pushed back against him and he froze, buried in her as
deep as he could get.  She could feel him flexing his cock and her orgasm
welled up around it before releasing her.

   Five or six more thrusts and Perry was pumping a load into his wife's
belly.  Three or four spurts of semen flooded her cunt.  She was squishy
and they were making noise as he continued to fuck his softening dick in
and out of her.  He finally stepped away from and spanked her ass hard.

   Mandy came again when he spanked her butt.  She wiggled her ass back and
forth.  Perry's hand roamed in between her legs and his fingers stired her
cunt.  She was still cuming off.  Little explosions in her belly.  She knew
already that she'd need more cock today.

   *****

   Erin Tamarack was up at the crack of dawn, smoking tons of weed before
crashing about the time the Hooters were fucking in the shower.  "Scooter"
wasn't up until three in the afternoon and it was five before he and Amanda
left the Hooter's and started looking for some place to live.  Erin wasn't
up again until about eight that night.  The Fishers were just back from
house hunting.  More Margaritas and lots of weed smoking later Erin
Tamarack remembered what she wanted to ask "Scooter."

   "Yo !  Scooter..." Erin called out.  Scooter was over talking with Perry
and Amanda.  Scooter looked over at her.  He was smoking a big hand rolled
joint about the size of a cigar.

   "Yea, what do you need, Ms.  Tamarack ?"

   "Perry said that you had some of Willy's encrypted files on your PDA. 
Is that true ?"

   "No.  They're on my laptop.  I even remember the pass words.  Got'em
right up here." He was pointing to his head.  Perry and Amanda were
laughing.  Mandy just came in from the back of the house.

   "What's everyone laughing at ?"

   Perry called out above the laughter.  "Scooter's got the pass words up
here." He was pointing to his head and laughing like crazy.  Scooter was
flipping a double bird at all of them as they laughed.

   Erin called out above the laughter, "Okay, Scooter, what are they ?"

   The room quieted down and Scooter said quietly, "willysbud plus one and
minus one."

   "Sounds like Willy.  Something easy with an easy twist.  Go get your
laptop, Scooter." Scooter took a huge hit off the joint and headed off
toward the back of the house.

   *****

   Estaban Rodriquez was trying to relax.  He had been assured that this
would be a "piece of cake" assignment.  Just follow the stoner "gringo" and
rip off the weed they sold him through that bitch Erin Tamarack.  The
cartel had been looking for the old man's recipe of fertilizers that
produced superior weed since the early years of the decade.  The cartel was
willing to go to any extreme to get it working on their farms.  The white
haired bitch kept telling them that it died with old man Tamarack back in
2004.  They didn't believe her.

   When his farm was turning out two, three tons of very high quality
marijuana, he was able to flush it out in months.  Two, three tons ! 
People would ask for it...Not buy other weed.  Fuck !  He'd advertise and
people would come out of the wood work to buy his weed.  Shit !  They
ripped off several tons when they raided his farm.  Why it took so long
always puzzled Estaban.  It was like they were scared of the old man. 
Nobody had seen him in years.  By all accounts, he was dead.

   He looked over at his cell phone, lying on the end table in the motel.
It never rang when he wanted it to.  And when it did ring it was usually a
disaster that he had to clean up.

   Moments later the phone jingled.  Estaban let it ring three times before
answering.  It was his watchers in Las Vegas.  Where else would this
"gringo" stoner flee to but Las Vegas ?  Old man Tamarack came from Las
Vegas.  His farms were in Sinaloa.  The dope would now be in Las Vegas. 
Estaban was sure of that.

   "Yes." Is all Estaban spoke.  The watcher went on for two minutes or so
before he hung up.  It was all excuses.  Las Vegas was a big town.  He
would hire some locals.  Maybe try to get some locals to do a little
surveilance ?  Estaban wished he had a picture of the guy but he'd only
seen him that once at the exchange.  The long haired "gringo" with the
teenager and the white haired bitch.  But, shit !  They had the make, model
and plate number of the fucker's van.

   If they'd just followed closer.  They lost them after they got off the
freeway.  It was foggy and the streets were confusing.  It was early in the
morning with heavy traffic.  When they entered Rolling Hills the van just
disapeared.  It took them two days to get a bead on the house out by the
ocean, miles away.  That's why he sent Manuel to watch the house.  Nobody
just leaves a house but there was that "for sale" sign !?

   *****

   Jim "Scooter" Fisher drove slowly through the opening gate.  The real
estate agent said she'd meet them at the property.  He turned right at the
second intersection and there was the house, nestled safely in the center
of the development.  "Scooter" could tell Amanda liked it as soon as she
saw it.  They were going to miss the house in Palos Verdes but everyone was
right.  It was time for them to move.

   It was while they were inside viewing the property that it happened.  A
gardening truck came through the very same gate and turned down the very
same street.  The two occupants, in the cabin of the gardening truck, were
talking about one of their wives.  That stopped abruptly.  They had both
seen the van with California plates.  The driver took a slip of paper from
his shirt pocket.

   Seconds later the passenger was using a cell phone and telling the
people at the other end that they found the van.  At the other end the two
watchers ran to a white Ford Tarus and started on their way to intercept
and follow the van.  Twenty minutes later the watchers, who Estaban
Rodriquez sent to Las Vegas, were parked down the street from the only
entrance and exit to a gated community that was actually in Henderson.

   Chapter Fourteen

   "Scooter" and Amanda were talking navigation.  She had a street map in
her lap plus they were using one of those in-dash navigation systems.  He
was driving, calling out street names, numbers and most important, checking
six.  They were heading back to the Hooter's home in Green Valley.  They
had seen three homes today.  This last one being the winner.  In hind
sight, if it hadn't been for "Scooter" checking six, the entire Tamarack
network might have been wiped out by the cartel.  Well, except for Willy,
obviously.

   "Need an alternate, Amanda.  Possible surveilance." Amanda was a child
of the streets and her number one "daddy" had just informed her that they
might be in danger.  She was way ahead on navigation and could have
answered immediately.  But she took her time.  They were on Green Valley
Parkway, heading south.  The next main street was High View.  Amanda
glanced up and saw the light changing to red in front of them.

   "Turn left." She commanded.  "Scooter" moved into the left hand turn
lane.  The vehicle, he was concerned with, was a quarter mile back.  It was
a white Ford Tarus and had followed them through the last two turns.  He
glanced around the intersection, nothing out of the ordinary.  They had
looked at a house near here the other day.

   "Find me an in and out, Amanda." Her face was already in the map.  They
were stopped at the red light.  The white Tarus was moving closer and
already had it's blinker on.  "Also get the gun out.  They don't appear to
be law enforcement." Amanda immediately bent over and shoved her hand under
her seat.  When her hand came back out from under the seat it had a long
barrel six gun in it.  She checked the load and slid the saftey off.

   "Locked and loaded." She said, then continued.  "Down High View, on the
right, about a mile.  I'll call the right turn followed by an immediate
left.  And I mean immediate."

   "Scooter" was keeping an eye on the white Tarus.  It was now just car
lengths behind him.  "Understand, right then left."

   *****

   The watchers were smart enough to stay off the phone.  No sense in
giving anyone false hopes.  And they sure didn't want to say "we found
them" and them lose them again.  Their phones were turned off.

   The Tarus was now way too close and the driver was barely going thirty.
The van was starting to speed up.  They both breathed a sigh of relief. 
The Tarus was back about a quarter mile when the van turned right.

   A torrent of Spanish filled the Tarus as they tried to decide what to
do. They turned right and found the van had disappeared.  The next street
went by on the left and there was the van, parked about five houses down !
The Tarus pulled to the curb and stopped just on the other side of the
intersection, hidden from the parked van.

   Without being told the passenger jumped out of the Tarus, ran across the
street and up on to the landscaping of the corner home.  He edged his way
to the corner of the house.  He looked around.  The fucking van was gone !
He rushed out into the front yard, waving to the Tarus, and just caught a
glimpse of the van disappearing around the end of the block.

   He ran to the street and jumped into the Tarus as it slowed.  "They just
turned the corner.  They were probably lost, looking at a map.  They don't
live around here."

   "Neither do we, amigo." The watcher in the passenger seat just realized
how hard this was actually going to be.

   *****

   "Scooter" pulled to the curb and parked.  He picked the gun up off the
console and held it in his lap.  "We'll see here in a second, Amanda.  You
ready."

   "Ready, baby."

   "Here they come." "Scooter" was already getting out of the van.  He
dropped his hand to his side, the six gun still in it.  He started walking
toward them.  They were stopped half way through the turn at the corner. 
Two of them.  Hispanics.  "Scooter" was inside a hundred and fifty feet,
walking fast.

   *****

   The driver slammed on the brakes, throwing the passenger into the dash.
He wasn't wearing his seat belt.  Bad habit, boys and girls !  He was
stunned a little but both of them had seen the van parked only a couple of
hundred feet away.

   The "gringo" was already getting out of the van.  The driver thought of
throwing it into reverse but then noticed that the "gringo" was carrying a
big gun in his right hand.  Instead he reached for the glove compartment.
Their weapons were inside.  The passenger was already fumbling for his gun.
As soon as he got it in his hand, he thrust it out the window and threw a
couple of wild shots at the "gringo." The rounds ricoched off the sidewalk.


   The driver swore at him before getting his gun out of the glove
compartment.  The "gringo" was raising his arm and aiming his weapon. 
There was a loud explosion and the windshield exploded.  There was glass
every where.  The driver aimed carefully and, through the blown out
windshield, emptied his clip at the still approaching "gringo."

   *****

   Amanda was sitting in the driver's seat with the van in it's lowest
gear, holding the brakes.  She had tilted the mirror so she could view the
Tarus and "Scooter." She heard the explosion and had just seen their
windshield blow out.  That cannon of "Scooter's" made enough noise to raise
the dead.  She made one scan of the neighborhood and when she looked back
into the mirror saw "Scooter" take two or three hits.  One of them turning
him around and one blowing a good chunk of his head half way back to the
van.

   He was lying on the ground, his head in a growing puddle of blood and
not moving at all.  The Tarus was still stopped.  She streached up and
turned in the seat.  No mirror now.  One of the Hispanics in the Tarus was
slumped over against the door.  The driver was looking behind him.  Now the
Tarus was backing up.  "Scooter" hadn't moved.  Amanda stepped on the gas.

   Amanda was driving south very cautiously.  She was not accustomed to
driving in the first place.  She had no diver's license in the second
place. In fact no ID of any kind.  She knew she needed to get as far away
as possible from where she saw her husband gunned down.

   Amanda was over two point five miles from where it happened when she
turned into the subdivision.  She'd already fished a joint out of her
purse. There were few cars parked along the street.  She parked, lit the
joint and pushed some buttons on the in-dash navigation.  She took another
drag.  She fiddled with the navigations system a few more times; took a
couple of more hits off the joint and reached for her purse.

   She got out her cell phone and called Perry.  His phone rang and rang
until it went to voice mail.  She didn't know what to say ?  So she hung
up. Next was Mandy.  Fuck !  If she didn't answer?!  She'd call Erin but
what could she do without a car ?  Mandy's phone was ringing.  One.  Two.
Three.

   "What do you need, Amanda ?"

   "An immediate pick up and snatch." Amanda went on for less than ten
seconds describing where she would be and then hung up.  She found a rag in
the glove compartment and wiped down all the surfaces of the van she could
find, especially the outside door handles.  She dropped the rag into the
gutter and walked away from the van and this part of her life.

   She'd survived before.  She'd do it again.  Amanda hadn't walked for ten
minutes before she sighted Mandy's car.  Seconds later they were leaving
the area.  It was a good three or four minutes before Amanda spoke.

   "Two Hispanic dudes were following us.  Scooter confronted them just off
Valle Verde and High View.  He got one.  The other got him.  I want to
disappear just like Erin.  I'm fucking scared, Mandy !" Amanda started
sobbing and didn't stop before they drove into the Hooter's garage.  Mandy
looked at her watch.  It was four-thirty, getting dark.  She knew Perry
would be out servicing his clients, in more ways than one she imagined.

   She got Amanda into the house.  Erin was coming into the front room. 
Amanda lit up the remainder of her joint and took a huge hit, collapasing
on the couch.

   "What's up with her ?" Erin nodded over at Amanda on the couch.  She was
taking another hit.

   "Two Hispanics just shot Scooter.  She thinks he's dead.  I though you
said it was safe up here, Erin." Erin Tamarack was silent for just a moment
before blurting out.

   "How sure are we of the facts here ?"

   Amanda looked right at Erin Tamarack.  "I saw Scooter shoot out the
windshield of their car and then he was hit two or three times, turning him
around in the street.  His gun fell to the ground and then the top of his
head blew off.  Now, Ms.  Tamarack, where the fuck are you going ?  I'm
going with you."

   Mandy took control.  "Nobody is going anywhere.  Amanda, how far from
the shooting to where I picked you up ?"

   "Close to three miles on the odometer.  I wiped the van real good and
there was no weed in it except what I had in my purse.  I do not believe
anyone saw the shooting.  Their guns hardly made a popping sound.  I did
not observe anyone outside.  The Tarus was backing up when I left the
scene." It all rushed out with a breath between each thought.

   Mandy reached across the coffee table and picked up the remote.  She
turned on the TV.  "Good report, Amanda.  Anything to add, Erin ?" Erin
shook her head.  Mandy continued.  "I'm sure we weren't followed after I
picked her up.  So we're safe here.  It was stupid to let them drive the
van.  What were you thinking, Erin ?"

   Amanda jumped up and rushed to the TV screen.  "That's the place.  The
van was parked here.  Their car was at the corner." The sheet covered body
was still in the middle of the street.  A news woman was interviewing a
neighbor.  Mandy turned up the volume.

   "...this loud bang.  Sounded like a cannon.  I was in the back of the
house and by the time I looked out the front window...Well there was
nothing there except the body." He pointed over to the body.  Mandy muted
the sound.

   Chapter Fifteen

   Perry Hooter was out by the air base.  Up on Hollywood.  He turned
further up the hill that most people called "Sunrise Mountain." He turned a
block late and then doubled back to come in the back way.  He parked in the
driveway.

   Heidi Griffin peeked out the door viewer and spotted Perry coming
through the gate.  She opened the door.  She was a skinny thing, stringy,
blonde hair to her waist.  She turned and walked deeper into the house. 
Perry closed the door and locked it.  Then he followed her.

   Heidi appeared to be in her twenties.  Perry wasn't quite sure.  She
always had a good crowd and they were all the same age.  He never failed to
get laid here and was looking forward to it today.  There were a total of
four.  There were also four envelopes on the coffee table.  He started to
get spongy when he sat down on the couch.

   There was this huge bong sitting on the end of the coffee table.  Heidi
introduced the ladies but Perry already knew all but one.  He'd fucked all
but one.  Her name was Trish Reed.  She was a small, cute brunette.  Perry
greeted all the ladies and immediately exchanged their envelopes for pound
packages of weed.

   Heidi was already packing the bong with weed from her package.  One of
the ladies had the mouth piece between her lips.  Perry imagined Trish's
lips wrapped around his pecker.  He leaned back and dug a glass pipe out of
his jacket pocket, along with a baggie of weed.  He packed the pipe and
handed it to Trish.  She eagerly held a lighter to the bowl and sucked in a
lung fell.  Smoke started rising from the bowl.

   Perry got a turn on the bong in short order and they all started talking
about the Las Vegas scene.  Twenty minutes later they were all quite
stoned. One of the girls left after Heidi turned on the television.  Heidi
invited the remaining girl back to her room and the two of them left the
front room.  Perry could hear them talking down the hall.

   Trish looked over at Perry.  She was very stoned.  It was very good
weed. She leaned back almost touching Perry's shoulder with hers.  It had
taken her three months to collect enough money to score a pound but she was
going to make a ton of money.  And smoke weed for free !

   "Aaah...Perry, right ?" He just nodded.  "You got a phone number ?" He
shook his head this time.

   "Doesn't work that way.  You like the weed ?" She nodded her head. 
"You're friends with Heidi, right ?" She nodded again.  "Your friend will
take care of you.  Don't worry, Trish." He paused just a moment or two. 
"You want to fool around a little ?"

   Moments later she didn't say anything when Perry touched one of her
breasts.  And she spread her legs quickly when his hand roamed below her
belt line.  Her jeans were too difficult to get down below her knees and
she had a nice hairy twat.  Her hand didn't search long to find the bone in
Perry's jeans.

   She was on her knees on the couch, eagerly sucking Perry's cock in and
out of her mouth.  She'd been doing so for a while and Perry was just as
big and hard as he got.  He had a hand on her head and was starting to fuck
her face.  He was close, almost there.  Her jeans were down around her
thighs.  He had a finger pushed deep into her cunt from behind and was
pressing his thumb against her asshole, using it as a fulcrum to leverage
his finger in and out of her.  Like I said, she was eager.

   Perry had just started unloading when the news flashed up on the screen.
His eyes were slits and he couldn't read half of what was flashing by.  He
laid back on the couch and let her suck it out of him.  His hips were still
thrusting when they broke into programing with a news anchor.  Perry
struggled to reach the remote on the coffee table, next to the bong.

   The scene on the TV showed what seemed like hundreds of cop car flashers
going on and off with thousands of cops surrounding a white Ford Tarus. 
There was a body out on the sidewalk next to the car.  Hispanic by the
looks of him.  There was another Hispanic spread eagled on the hood.  The
anouncer was saying that they were stopped, driving north on Nellis with a
blown out windshield.  The passenger had been shot by a large caliber
weapon.  This fact connected them to what appeared to be a shoot out
further south, in Henderson.

   The scene changed to Henderson.  Perry recognized the corner.  He'd used
that "in and out" many times.  When the scene changed to "Scooter's" van.
Perry pushed the still sucking girl's face out of his lap.  He stood and
pulled his pants up.  "Got to run, doll.  See you the next time."

   Perry was at least forty-five minutes from home.  It was dark and Nellis
Blvd.  was a mad house.  He passed by the Tarus as it was still parked just
south of Charleston.  There were still several cop cars around but the TV
crews were gone.  He didn't relax until the garage door came down behind
him.  He'd have to move the weed to an alternate location.  He'd check with
Mandy.

   Time to start making a list of shit to do.  He felt sorry for Amanda. 
No doubt in Perry's mind that "Scooter" Fisher was dead.  He hadn't waited
for the special edition newscast to finish.  But he was sure.  Time to lay
low, get sqeaky clean for a while.  His business accounts were full of
money.  They'd live off that for a while.

   The door to the house opened.  Mandy was standing there.  Perry got out
of the car.

   "Scooter bought the farm, Perry.  Amanda is here, safe and sound along
with Erin.  I picked her up clean and we weren't followed.  Have you seen
the news ?"

   Perry was near her and took a hold of her shoulders.  Mandy threw her
arms around her husband's neck.  They held each other for a long while.  He
could hear the news anchor from where he was in the kitchen.  Erin and
Amanda were on the couch, staring at the TV screen.  Perry went to Amanda.
She stood and he and held her for a long while.

   "We'll take care of you, Amanda.  Don't worry, babe."

   Erin was smoking a bowl when he sat down on the couch with them.  Mandy
brought potato chips and soft drinks.  They watched the news story unfold
on the big screen and continued to do so until the stations left the live
feed.  By then they were very stoned.  Amanda insisted on sleeping with
Erin as she was afraid Erin would leave without her.

   The next morning the four of them moved the weed to a self storage
locker up on Stephanie near the 95.  The locker was just about full so it
took them some time to secret the weed in the rear against the back wall.
They were exhausted when they returned to the Hooters.

   *****

   Estaban Rodriquez picked up the phone and listened for several minutes.
The news was not good.  His men had been picked up by the authorities in
Las Vegas.  One of them was dead; the other was in the Clark County
Detention Center.  The death of the "gringo" was being attributed to his
men.  Estaban turned on the TV.  The local news was reporting it.  He broke
the phone connection.

   Two fucking deaths !  Two illegals, they had no ID on them.  If they
connected the "gringo" to marijuana, they might connect the "illegals" to
the cartels ?  But there would be cops all over the place.  They'd never
find the dope now.  Estaban placed another phone call.  This was to
Culiacan, Sinaloa, Mexico.  It took ten rings before the call was answered.
He carefully explained what he just learned.  The was a long silence on the
other end, followed by.

   "Who shot first ?"

   "Have no idea." Answered Estaban.

   "Find out.  Do you have anyone else in 'Vegas ?"

   "No."

   "I'll call you back." The phone went dead.

   *****

   The day following "Scooter's" death Perry went to his office and worked
on the preparations for two conventions that were but weeks away.  There
was nothing to connect Mandy and him to "Scooter" except Amanda.  But then
it dawned on him that he went to high school with "Scooter" and college,
too.  If someone looked hard enough there was plenty of evidence to link
him to "Scooter" besides Amanda.

   Even so, Amanda and Erin had to disappear and Wendy had to start living
at home instead of her boy friend's house.  Mandy was working this
afternoon and evening.  He'd be alone with the women and would discuss
their options.  He called Betty Norbest into his office and spent the next
hour and a half making sure that all the prep was completed for the up
coming conventions.

   The house was dark when Perry drove into the garage.  Mandy's car was
gone.  He found the women in the front room, stoned.  He started laughing.
They started laughing.  Perry sat down and filled a pipe full.  After a
long silence Erin started to talk.

   "We need to find Willy's stash.  I've got some money hidden away but at
most it's going to last a year.  Amanda's worse off.  She has no visible
means of support and no identification.  I'm pretty sure that this map
`Scooter' had will be the key.  I'm sure I had the same map at one time but
all that shit is gone." Amanda's head was nodding up and down as Erin
spoke. Perry was sure they'd rehearsed this.  Erin was taking a drag off
the pipe.  She continued.

   "We'd like you to drive us to this spot and help us recover Willy's
stash.  Then we'll disappear.  All the evidence points to all of us making
a clean break from the cartel.  They had to be tracking `Scooter's' license
plate number.  Shit !  There's enough Mexican gardeners around here." She
took another hit off the pipe and handed it to Perry.  "Amanda and I are
the only two who were exposed.  You and Mandy are clean.  Now with the
authorities...We all have to worry.  Perry, what are the chances of the
authorities linking you with `Scooter' ?"

   [continued in]

   "The Chronicles of Willy Tamarack"

   Part Six
   "he has Risen" 

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