On the Run - M Zeigler (philippa perry book .txt) 📗

I’ll buy you a damn theme park, Bonnie! Just don’t leave.” Barrette offers then starts begging for me not to leave him.

“Barrette, this isn’t about being in a small town, I have a car, I can go places, I can do things. But, at the same time I can’t because I have to discuss everything with you. I have to discuss going anywhere, buying anything; I don’t even want half of everything I just want out.” I add, I watch as tears fall down Barrette’s face like two rivers as he takes the offered paper and pen, he scribbles his signature on the page and then walks away.

Even though he signed the papers I feel empty, sad, and lonely, because now I am free but I have truly lost everything.

The dreams fades again, this time when the world around me colorizes I’m driving down the road heading into Christianson with a hard cover suitcase in the back seat of the mustang. My hair is back to its natural color except the very tips; the ends are faded to brown. Taking a close look at the suitcase I see there are tons and tons of sticker stuck to it from different locations all over the map. And there’s a box on the floor behind my seat with equally as many shot glasses as the case has stickers.

The look in my eyes shows satisfaction; this is what I imagine myself looking like after having gone on a long road trip across the map and back again.

Rolling into Christianson I see Barrette sitting alone at the park looking a bit dismal with Josh Alden and his brother’s sitting around him looking equally as dismal as Barrette. All men look up when I lay on the horn, Barrette’s expression changes to one of excitement when he sees me.

“Bonnie!” All men exclaim as I step out of the now parked car. “Someone called and told me that a certain woman called it quits? And I was heading back towards California and found myself one person short of a Valentine’s Day card, so I figured I’d stop in and see how you were doing?” I say as I walk over to barrette who is now standing up. He pulls me in for a tight hug and holds onto me for a long time.

“Yeah, Heather couldn’t deal with me anymore.” Barrette grimaces back at me. “I’m sorry to hear that, it sounds like you need a vacation, I happen to know that Malibu is really nice this time of year?” I reply as Barrette releases me.

“Well I don’t have any concerts to take care of for another couple months.” Barrette replies looking to the mustang then back to me. “I see you got the rag top put back on?” He notices. “I sure did, I had to argue with my dad for close to a month but he finally put the rag top back. I couldn’t drive all over the US in a hard top; it had to be a convertible.” I reply to Barrette who walks over to the car looking at the passenger’s seat with memories of our now long ago mission in his eyes.

“So are you still working for the FBI?” He asks looking back at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yes, sometimes I am. I haven’t taken a case in a few months though, why?” I reply to him, he looks back at the Mustang then at me.

“You better call Rodney and accept a case, and uh. You might need that hardtop back.” Barrette informs as he walks around the car to get into the passenger’s side.

“Bonnie.” I hear Barrette’s voice waking me from my slumber, rolling over I realize it’s unusually warm and I feel like someone dumped syrup all over me. My eyes slide open and I’m blinded by sunlight, my eyes, thankfully adjust quickly to the light and sit up only to find I’m entirely covered in different colors of paint! There’s balloon fragment’s all over the place I’m in the middle of the grass clearing outside Barrette’s front door.

“You alright?” Barrette asks offering me a hand up. “That was by far, the best part ever.” I reply as last night’s events start to come to me. People on stage singing, Barrette and I even did our own little version of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash’s song Time’s a wastin’ which I barely remember because I was already pretty wasted by that point. All I remember after that was Leo, Louis, and Gregory open firing with paint balloons which explains the paint and why Barrette’s yard is every color except for what nature intended it to be. Even the oak tree trunk is stained with purple, yellow, and blue!

“You’re not hung over?” Barrette chuckles as his mother comes walking by with a massive bag of trash. “No, I’m not surprisingly.” I reply, Barrette shrugs then nods towards the hose. “Go rinse off and then run up and take a shower. We’re all heading to the diner to eat, so be quick?” Barrette informs, with that mentioned he heads off to help his mother continue picking up after the party.

I wander over to the hose and turn the water on, it’s so hot out here right now that the water comes out warm, which works for me because a cold shower after a night of partying is no fun at all. I make quick work of scrubbing some of the paint out of my hair then start spraying down my clothes. Before long ninety percent of the paint is in a puddle on the ground. “Here go around to the back door and take those off.” Louis says appearing out of nowhere with a voice that tells me he didn’t escape a hangover, without further comment he wanders off to the garage where I can hear glass bottles clinking together.

I turn for the back door and with some difficulty manage to remove my soaked T shirt and leather pants that are now destroyed. With only undergarments and a towel to cover me I step inside the back door to head past the open floor fireplace to the stairs. Up the stairs I find Barrette’s bathroom door wide open and I gratefully charge in eager for a hot shower.

Twenty minutes later I’m charging back down the stairs with my wet hair pulled back into a pony tail and clothed in dry paint free clothes more eager than I ever have been to eat breakfast!

“You ready?!” I hear Barrette shout from the passenger’s seat of the Mustang as I step out onto the front porch. “Yes!” I squeak excitedly as I run for the driver’s seat, in the car I see that Barrette still has some paint clinging to his arms somewhat blotching out the face of a skull that is inked into his skin.

“Someone’s excited this morning.” Barrette comments amusedly as I start the car and slowly proceed to follow his mother, brothers, and a few friends down to the diner. “Where’s Marcus?” I ask Barrette who points down to the bottom of the hill. “Already at the diner.” Comes the response while he’s still pointing.

“Oh, okay.” I reply contentedly as his mother slows down to a stop to check for traffic before pulling out onto the road. We’re only five minutes from the diner but I don’t think many of us are in any condition to walk down to the diner. “Hey, so have you seen Heather today?” I ask Barrette as I’m pulling out onto the road. “Yeah, she rode down with Marcus.” Barrette replies easing my fear that maybe Heather thought I planned on keeping Barrette and left for her house when she woke up this morning.

“Why?” Barrette asks. “Because I wanted to talk to her.” I reply simply to Barrette really not wanting to go into detail on why I want to talk to the brunette. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to talk to you. She was gushing this morning about how well you sang last night.” Barrette informs, I raise a brow at him almost as if to say he’s lying.

“You aren’t half bad.” Barrette amends, I shake my head no; that I entirely disagree with that. “The only reason I was on stage is because I was drunk, my voice is not meant for singing.” I reply to Barrette as I turn into the diner parking lot, I know where he was headed with his comment and I’m not even going there.

“You’re not that bad Bonnie, I’m telling you, people would actually buy the albums.” Barrette says. “See I knew that would be your offer, I’m not going to offer that album.” I reply as I step out of the Mustang. “Alright, it’s fun though.” Barrette continues. “I don’t care, no.” My final word is taken into consideration mostly because his mother is approaching keeping a watchful eye on her youngest sons. She doesn’t care how old they are she will reprimand them if they get out of line and Leo runs every time she raises her voice to him.

Stepping inside the diner I see some locals here that pretty much appear as regulars in the diner, there’s five people in total that work the diner and they are all here. Three waitresses and two chefs, all of them are hard at work.

“Yolanda! Order up!” one of the chefs calls as Marcus waves our group to a set of four tables that are pushed together in the back corner where Heather, and Barrettes band is seated waiting for us to show up.

“Barrette! you want the usual?!” The waitressed named Yolanda shouts from the kitchen. “Yes please!” I call back. “We’ll take our usual order as well!” Louis chimes in to inform everyone that all the Green’s are here. “What about you Bonnie?! I recommend the Country fried steak and eggs!” Yolanda says, it’s strange that she knows me because I have no idea who she is. “I’ll try it!” I call back to her feeling odd for being so loud in a restaurant.

“Now, we need to discuss the rest of your concert dates.” Marcus says to Barrette as Louis throws a wadded up straw wrapper at Gregory who picks it up and throws it at Leo who ducks, I watch in amusement as the paper wad soars of Leo’s head and land’s in Heather water dish. “Boys, seriously, that is enough. You’re worse than the classroom kids are.” Heather says in her angry teacher voice. “Sorry Heather.” All three apologize; Leo even stands up and takes her glass back behind the counter, dumps it and refills it. “That’s better.” Heather says when Leo sits back down and hands her the fresh glass back.

“Marcus, I have considered your idea and the answer is still no. A different kind of crazy is going on track one. I don’t care if you like it, I’m putting this together not you, and I’m telling you the placement.” Barrette says sternly to Marcus who looks at Barrette with defeat clear in his expression.

“Alright fine, don’t come crying to me when the album is a flop.” Marcus says, Barrette nods once that he won’t and also to say that’s right I’m the boss I make the rules.

“Breakfast!” Yolanda exclaims sliding over to the table with her arms lined full of plates, one by one she deposits our food down in front of us. Everyone is so hungry no one even bother’s to pray before they eat.

Yolanda was right about this dish, it’s heavenly! I’ve never tasted country fried steak that isn’t overly battered or overly salty and the batter on it actually crunchy not soggy and gooey. “What do you think?” Heather asks when I take my last bite of breakfast. “I will definitely be coming through this diner again. Amazing!” I say enthusiastically, Heather claps her hands. “Yolanda prides herself; she’s never had a single customer complain!” Heather