Free Trailer Park Noir by Ray Garton Page A

which was less than part-time. Stripping barely took care of their needs and left nothing for her to save up for her dream – a down payment on a little house for her and Kendra. She could not see that ever happening.
    With her costume on, Anna left the big communal dressing room and went out into the nightclub. Between sets, the girls waited tables. Some chose to wait tables topless while others kept their costumes on. Anna wasn’t comfortable walking around topless. Dancing naked on the stage was one thing, but just walking around from table to table with her tits exposed – she couldn’t do it. She knew it meant less in tips, but she couldn’t help it, it was out of her hands.
    The bar was in the front of the club, the stage in the rear, and in between were tables, and against the wall some booths. There was a bar along each edge of the runway, too. The club was spacious, with a high ceiling. From outside, the building looked like a ski lodge, with an A-frame and tall windows. But the blackened windows were dark, and written in purple neon in one of them were the words LIVE NUDE GIRLS. It was located halfway between Redding and Mt. Shasta, out in the woods, of all places. But it did a booming business. It helped that it was the only strip club in the area. The next closest was all the way over in Chico.
    Anna went behind the bar and got an order pad and pen. She found the manager in the kitchen behind the bar, where they made all the bar food. Paul Wagner was a little balding man with a belly and jowls who always wore a suit.
    “Where do you want me, Paul?” she said.
    “Take section four,” he said. “Delilah was supposed to take it, but she went home sick. So I’ve got Candy working two sections, and you can take section four.”
    “Will do, boss,” she said, then she turned and left the kitchen, went out from the behind the bar, and headed for section four. That included all the customers seated at bars along the sides of the runway and tables to the left of the runway.
    There was just another hour before closing time. Anna sighed and went to a table and took her first order.
    Her third order came from a handsome man with dark hair seated at the runway. He ordered a scotch and soda, then said, “Could I have a word with you?”
    “About what?” Anna said, smiling.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Kitten.”
    “Well, Kitten, my friend and I, here, are photographers. We have some websites and I was wondering if you’d be willing to pose for some pictures for us.”
    “Pictures, huh?”
    “We’ll pay, of course. Think about it. Here’s my card.” He took his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and removed a business card, which he scribbled on with a pen before handing it to her.
    It read, BURNING LIZARD AMUSEMENTS, and below that was a phone number and a post office box number in Redding. Written on the back was his name and another phone number.
    “My name is Steven Regent,” he said. “You are an exceptionally beautiful woman, Kitten. You stand out here, I’m serious. You’re also the finest dancer in the place.”
    “Well, thank you, aren’t you sweet. I’ll get your drink for you.”
    “You’ll think about it? I think we could work together very well. We pay well.”
    “I’ll think about it,” she said, then she turned and headed for the bar.
    Photographers. A website. It sounded dubious to Anna. But he said they would pay. And well. She slipped the card into the top of her right stocking. She’d keep it. Just in case.
     
     

 
    Eight
     
     
    Reznick rose slowly to the surface of his sleep like a bloated corpse bobbing to the surface of a still, deep lake. He opened his sticky eyes and squinted painfully at light, then closed them again. It was morning, he knew that much. But he wasn’t sure where he was.
    Did I tie one on last night? he wondered.
    He reached up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then opened them. He was lying on the couch in the living room