On the Run, M Zeigler [you can read anyone txt] 📗

even sure if Barrette won anything or not, I remember nothing of the whole event. I barely remember chasing after Devon who should be behind bars right now but somehow isn’t, I’m almost wondering if he managed to pay off more people to let him go and stay quiet.  

With a hateful groan I finally throw back the covers to across my room and then down the much too cold stairs to see who has dropped by for a visit, I have no idea who it could be because the only people I know in this area are already at my house. Barrette is probably still asleep on the couch, Anna was in bed sleeping next to me at one o’clock this morning and my other two sisters were asleep in the guest loft above the garage.  Half way down the stairs I hear Barrette talking to someone and he doesn’t sound very happy about whatever is being said to him, if he’s not happy then there is a huge problem. In the weeks we’ve been traveling together I’ve realized that it takes a lot to get on Barrette’s bad side, if you manage to rub him the wrong way your best idea is probably to run and run fast because he will knock you flat and bust out a few teeth.

“Miss. Parker. Oh wow, sorry to be waking you up but this is urgent news.” Rodney, the FBI agent from Georgia says sounding appreciative of my presence but also maintaining weariness vibe when he sees my still mostly intoxicated person. I have to imagine I’m not exactly a pretty sight right now, I already know my hair is sticking out every direction but the right direction, and my makeup is everywhere but where it should be.

“No, don’t worry about it; I’m used to police harassing me when I’m already hung over. Have a seat, would you like some coffee?” I reply giving a groggy yet sarcastic response, Barrette laughs at the remark; I’m sure he’s been there done that one too many times.  Just as I’m reaching for the coffee pot someone else rings the door bell causing me to cringe at the loud noise. Adding to my already whirlwind of a head ache, Anna has to go and shot loud enough for the angels to hear.

“I got it!” She shouts with laughter knowing very well that I have a headache hand created by Lucifer. “I hate you, Anna.” I rumble from my place here in the kitchen, as I’m dumping fresh grounds into the machine I realize that it was a terrible idea to put hardwood flooring on every inch of the house except the living room. The floor is unusually cold this morning to a point I fear my poor feet my actually freeze to the wood. As this thought passes through my mind I’m caught off guard when Anna comes tip toeing into the room with Heather in tow, I shoot a warning glare to my sister as I hit the button to start the coffee maker. Anna shrinks back nervously knowing by this point in our lives I am not at all opposed to starting a fist fight with her.

“Heather, would you like some coffee?” I offer with a scratchy voice, Heather looks a little worriedly over to Barrette, probably wondering if he drank last night. Her fearful look fades when she see’s he’s not hung over, he must be a grizzly when he’s hung over. Once the ever beautiful Heather realizes that the man of her dreams has been behaving as best as can be expected, she answers my question.

“I’d love some coffee.” Rodney interjects with a chuckle of his own, more than likely amused by my sisters mean handling of my hangover. “Yes please?” Heather replies in her adorable southern bell accent, its amazing how one woman can be so closely related to the sun, always vibrant, happy, and bringing some form of happiness to those who surround her. And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day. The sarcastic thought flits through my head very briefly before I remember there’s an FBI agent in my kitchen that is here on very urgent business.

“Okay Rodney, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” I prompt as I fill four mugs full of coffee, Barrette watches me with fascination as I balance four mugs, the creamer and a sugar bowl in my hands. I make it the ten feet from the fridge to the table without spilling a drop of coffee or dropping any of the items in my hands.

Rodney finally decides to answer once I’ve handed everyone their steaming hot beverage then flopped down much to hard into the only remaining open chair at the table.  My dad and Alex choose now to come in the house, both are covered from head to toe in engine oil and mud from the dirt bikes both men who play a huge part in my life instantly freeze up upon noticing the FBI agent sitting at the table.

“Where are the kids?” My dad asks Alex immediately, Alex looks back at Jack with his very simple answer. “At the park with Josie.” He informs talking about one of my aunts that visits us pretty close to every day. My dad nods once that he heard Alex then crosses his arms to listen to what Rodney has to say, even Alex looms in the living room to hear what is happening.  Maybe they know something that I do not, I didn’t tell either of them about Devon so they can’t possibly be suspicious that I failed to capture public enemy number one.

Rodney who has made several attempts to speak in the last two minutes finally waits until everyone is done commenting before he speaks. “ Last night I stayed up to wait for the arrest documents to come in from the Floyd police station. I have to admit this is probably a bigger disaster than the time Charles Manson brain washed county police.” Rodney says playing with the hot coffee mug in front of him; he watches the mug sheepishly knowing that whatever he is about to say will not make anyone in this room very happy. After a brief yet anxiety filled pause the FBI agent snags his brief case from the floor, he flips open the brass latches only to start pulling paper work from within.  Finally he slaps down a file on the table as he runs an aggravated and very much worried hand through his hair messing up the neat and orderly look he held entering the house.

“We knew he got away.” Barrette says pointedly after looking down at the photo attached to the file, the man portrayed is very clearly not Devon Morgan, sadly there was part of me that wanted to think maybe Barrette and I mistook that guy at the party as Devon; I wanted to believe they had the right guy in custody. Obviously I was wrong to think that a small town cop could actually catch a notorious criminal mastermind.

As I said this isn’t Devon Morgan, a blind man could tell you that much, the gentlemen portrayed in this photo is around the same age as Devon but his hair has a shoulder length beach bum blonde look about it.

“Son of a…This is why I hate police! Their idiots!” I shout jarring the table with my fists, Heather yelps at the sudden outburst that causes coffee to slosh from all four cups.  “Sorry.” Rodney says bitterly in response to my angry words, Anna reminds us of her presence at the bar perched like a goddess on a bar stool when she comments on Rodney’s words. “Don’t take it personally, Bonnie hates everyone.” She says making no effort to be funny, in fact my sister is serious as can be with her words, and she knows me far better than anyone else in this room, Barrette aside.

Barrette takes a calming breath trying to be the reasonable one here in the room; he spins around to face him so he can review it.  After a quick scroll over the words Barrette speaks his mind on the work up.

 “They have none of the information correct. But what can we do? We can’t go on another crime spree and get away with it.” Barrette reminds Rodney who only had our last charges dropped on grounds that we were trying to catch a criminal.  Rodney tilts his head to the side, just a quick understanding gesture that says he understands the dilemma at hand. As for me, all I can do is run a hand through my already messy hair and look to my father whose face is turned into a frown of disapproval, not with me but with the Floyd police.

“I was already making the trip out here regardless of this file, but seeing as we do have a fugitive on the run that is highly dangerous. I think if Bonnie accepts my offer I can work something out for you two.” Rodney says cryptically, I look back to him from my father clearly aggravated with his cryptically spoken words; the last thing any of us want right now is another mystery to unravel. Looking at Rodney I find that he has placed an FBI badge on the dining room table, inscribed into the shining metal is my name.

“If you accept the badge, I can assign Barrette as you official partner, you both get a badge.” Rodney says with the placement of the badge on the dining room table.

“FBI, Special Operations? Your grandfather and I never made it that far.” My dad says proudly, I stare at the badge the world around me seems to slow down until I can hear someone talking, someone who hasn’t walked through this house in many years.

“He’s right you know, your father and I worked for the FBI for a time but we were never given a shield. And now you’re being offered special operations, I’d say take the offer, perhaps this is your calling.”

“I accept.” I announce after hearing my grandfather’s encouraging voice from the corner of the room behind where Rodney sits. All faces in the room light approving of my acceptance, even without my grandfather’s encouragement I would have taken the badge, I need a job anyways. Besides, what is wrong with chasing bad guys?

 “Good, take the shield, sign this, and the two of you go catch Devon Morgan.” Rodney says reaching back to his still open brief case to snag another badge similar to mine; this one however, hangs from a thick metal chain. He hands the dangling badge over to Barrette who gives a rather goofy smile to everyone at the table, I can’t help but at least smile at his antics, he’s such an overgrown kid.

“It won’t do any good to capture Devon; he’ll escape from prison mark my words. The information we gave you inst all there is to tell on Devon Morgan. He has contacts all over the globe, he’ll find someone big enough to bail him out.” I explain to Rodney who gives me a fresh file and a note book to start my own criminal write up on Devon.

 “I personally think people like Devon need a more permanent prison cell where no amount of money can buy the way out. Did you know that the California prison systems are twenty percent over full right now? Whereas Georgia is at the moderate range, maybe because some states have the death penalty; and California refuses to give anyone a license kill. Anyhow, that’s just my knowledge, have a nice day Bonnie, Barrette; and welcome to the FBI.” Rodney says in a very meaningful tone as he is heading towards the door, once he is out the door I look at Barrette with a huge grin on my face.

I understand exactly what Rodney was getting at, Barrette and I cannot shoot Devon without having a really, really good