She said, “I’m a big-time fugitive, Cody.”
Right away I started getting hard again, but she acted like she didn’t notice.
I told her I had a girlfriend but it wasn’t serious. “She’s a teacher, too. AP English, same as you. Only it’s a charter school.”
Ms. Chase smiled and gave me a long kiss. I had a joint so we smoked it. The car smelled like McDonald’s fries because that’s all she ate the whole way from Sarasota. She said she didn’t waste time in sit-down restaurants—she wanted to get to Oklahoma as fast as possible and track me down.
Her hair looked different because she got platinum highlights so nobody would recognize her from the Wanted poster, which I’d never seen but then I hardly ever get to the post office.
“There’s a big wild world out there, Cody. Are you ready to take the ride?”
“See, they just promoted me to assistant manager.”
“Congratulations.”
“But the boss, he’s a major dickbrain.”
She said, “Life is but the blink of an eye. This is what you’ll learn.”
I apologized for how the trial went down, what I said about her on the witness stand. Ms. Chase said she understood and forgave me totally. I was under major pressure at the time—it was my parents who made me testify and turn over all the stuff I wrote about our love affair. My mom read every page of the diary but she didn’t get most of it, thank God. She literally asked me what a “back-door job” was. I made up something about sneaking into a club.
Ms. Chase wanted to know if I’d ever got married, and my answer was almost but not quite. She told me her husband’s a retired doctor with gobs of money. He knew she was running from the law but he proposed to her anyway, which I totally understand. She said he’s much older than her and also he’s kind of a perv. He likes to beat off while he’s got a belt or electric cord around his neck, which I’ve heard of but sure never tried.
“Who are you reading these days?” she asked.
I told her I’ve sort of gotten away from books and more into Xbox.
“Oh, Cody,” she said, and I took it as a cut.
She told me it was time to start thinking big, so I pointed at my all-world woody and asked, “You mean big like this?” She laughed and gave it a squeeze, which got my hopes flying, but then she started talking about inner journeys and the hand of fate.
I kept trying to pull off her skinny jeans but she wouldn’t go for it. She did unbutton her top, which was pretty sweet. There were more freckles than I remembered but who cares.
“Don’t you have any big dreams?” she asked, but offhand I couldn’t come up with any.
“Well, you should, Cody. You’re a sharp young man, an A student back in the day.”
It’s not easy to have a seriously deep conversation when you’ve got a purple hard-on that could cut a diamond. I told Ms. Chase there was a new Chipotle’s opening up on North Utica and I was thinking about putting in for day manager.
“No,” she said. “You’re coming with me.”
And that’s what I did.
Yancy handed the transcript back to Montenegro, who said the sheriff’s office was holding the iPad on which the diary was stored. One of the road deputies had confiscated it from the rental car.
“I knew that fuckwit was keeping a journal,” Yancy said. “Should I go see Bonnie?”
The lawyer said he didn’t care. “Bonnie’s not her name, dude.”
“Well, ‘Plover’ is unacceptable. I can’t bring myself to say it.”
“And you had no knowledge of her true identity while you were balling her?”
“The last time we were together is the first time she told me.”
“And of course you felt no obligation to notify the police—or your long-suffering counsel.” Montenegro rubbed both hands on his shaven orb. He was more expansive than usual but no less jaundiced. “I probably could get her six months and probation for the arson, if she wasn’t already on the lam for a sex felony. Oklahoma hasn’t decided whether to extradite, but I spoke to an Agent Weiderman—”
“Yes, we’ve met,” Yancy said.
“Not a bad guy. We discussed the problems with the Tulsa case, now that Mr. Parish intends to become a published author. This new diary of escapades won’t be helpful to the prosecution.”
“Listen, should I go see her or not?”
“You’re not as pissed as I thought you’d be.”
“I am highly pissed. Supremely pissed.”
“She’s determined to plead insanity,” Montenegro said. “Says she torched the house only because she was deranged by her passion for you. Another celestial mystery, but there you fucking have it.”
“For Christ’s sake, Monty, she’s not insane.”
“How would you know? I mean, of all people.” The lawyer yawned. “See what you set in motion, Andrew, by sleeping with this unreliable person. The dominoes continue to fall—on my desk, unfortunately.”
“Have you talked to Bonnie’s husband?”
“The board-certified physician you assaulted at Mallory Square? Seems like eons ago. No, I haven’t spoken to Dr. Witt because he’s presently in ICU at Sarasota Memorial Hospital exhibiting the cognitive capacity of an artichoke. He was found nude from the waist down, hanging from a peewee basketball hoop at the local Kiwanis park. This was four-thirty a.m., some rookie cop called it in as a suicide attempt, which it wasn’t. The bottle of virgin olive oil being a key clue. Also, the cashmere choke collar.”
“Is he going to die?” Yancy asked.
“The family says the doctor’s chances for recovery are about the same as the chances of him paying for his estranged wife’s legal defense, which is to say remote. Go see her if you want but, here, read this first.”
It was more lovesick rubbish from Cody Parish.
Dear Diary,
Ms. Chase is gone! She left the Best Western to take a walk, and came back in a rental car. I begged her to stay but I could only watch helplessly as she packed her bag.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” I cried.
She touched my cheek and said, “Darling, where’s my shampoo and conditioner?”
“Darling”? Seriously?
My whole world was crashing down. How could she take my heart in her hands and choke it like a baby bunny rabbit?
The last time we made love I knew something wasn’t right because she didn’t make a sound. Also, she didn’t move her butt very much, which isn’t like her. I asked what’s wrong, princess, and she said nothing’s wrong, everything’s beautiful.
But that night in bed I had a horrible feeling she was thinking about someone else. It had to be Andrew, the man she was with before she came back to Tulsa and took me away. He’s got some hot new girlfriend now and I think Ms. Chase is jealous. Supposedly the girlfriend is a doctor, like Ms. Chase’s husband, and maybe that screwed with her head, too.
Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe she just went batshit crazy which can happen when the monthly hormones take over. I’ve seen it before, and watch out!
All I know is I’ve lost my true soul mate. Yes, she was an outlaw and a schizo but I loved her anyway—and I would have stayed glued by her side until the law hunted us down. Every day on the road with Ms. Chase was wild lust and adventure, and I don’t regret one single moment.