Chapter 10

We arrived in front of our favorite restaurant, Cluck in a Bucket. I hoped to God that Russell wasn't the dancing chicken. I had bad experience with Cluck customers trying to fight me for taking away their beloved Clucky.

We entered, and Lula immediately stepped in line.

"We really should just try to get…" I was about to remind her.

"I'm hungry," she spoke gruffly. I knew not to argue with her. I scanned the behind the counter area for anyone who looked like Russell Bitterman. No one in sight looked like him.

"Welcome to Cluck in a Bucket," a pimply college age girl said when we got to the register.

"Hi," Lula said, far more cheerful than she'd been in a while. "I'd like a bucket off…"

"Is Russell here?" I interrupted Lula. She elbowed me in the shoulder angrily.

"You mean, Mr. Bitterman? Our assistant manager, Mr. Bitterman?" the girl asked.

"I believe so."

"He's training someone. I think he's outside in the back."

"Thank you," I told the girl. I attempted to drag Lula with me, but she was staying put.

"I wasn't done here!" she said attitudinally.

"I don't want to go back there alone," I told her. Russell, or Mr. Bitterman as this girl called him, was arrested for sexual misconduct with a minor. I wasn't worried about my safety. I was worried about what I'd find when I got around back. Apparently his fellow employees didn't know that the last person he'd taken upon himself to train, had reported him abusing her desire to get a job by making her give him a blowjob. I did not want to walk in on him and his next victim.

"I want my food!" Lula barked. I knew I couldn't argue with her any further. Possibly because of my protective relationship with Adam, I felt it was my duty to protect the Cluck trainee from having the same fate as the previous one. I went out the side doors and snuck around back. When I got closer to the dumpsters, I could hear a man talking.

"Listen, kid, you've been fired from a lot of fast food joints. I don't know how easily you could get a job here unless you have a really good reference. I could help you there, but I…"

"Russell Bitterman!" I called out, dashing around the corner. Russell immediately jumped back with his hands above his head.

"He's of legal age!" he blurted out.

"What?" the kid next to him backed up in disgust. "Ew! What the hell?"

"Go home kid," I told him. And the kid ran off. I tried to cuff Russell, but he wouldn't lower his arms enough for me to reach him.

"I was going to go to court, honest," Russell said. "But I had to work that day and there was no one available to cover me."

"Why you still have a job here is beyond me," I said. "Lower your arms."

"No," Russell said, taking a big step back.

"Get over here!" I growled at him, matching his big step but going forward.

"No!" Russell yelled just as the back door opened.

"What's going on here?" a balding man asked. He was the manager. While I was distracted by the manager, Russell ran off.

"Russell, damn it!" I yelled as I chased after him. I chased after him down the parking lot, heading toward the Cluck in the Bucket exit driveway. Being that Russell was 6 foot 7, he was able to run faster than I. I thought I would have to chase him into the street, but then Lula came out of left field. She was in her car, and she hit him. Russell went flying and landed on knees and hands. I was able to jump on him and flatten him to the pavement.

"All my bones are broken!" Russell whined.

"Are not," Lula said standing over us. She had ankle shackles in her hands. I took my handcuffs off my belt and cuffed his wrists while she did his ankles. Then she and I attempted to drag him into her car, which was difficult given his tall frame was too big too fit in her Firebird.

"He's not going to fit in my car either," I said. She and I were still holding onto Russell, we weren't letting him loose. As we stood there conflicted, the manager made his way over.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked. "Rusty, what's the matter?"

"Case of mistaken identity," Russell said.

"Who are we mistaking you with?" Lula asked. "Goliath?"

"We are Bounty Hunters," I explained.

"What's he done?" the manager asked.

"Please, don't tell him…" Russell begged, even though he knew we would.

"He forced one of your prospective employees to blow him," Lula told him.

"Rusty!" the manager put his hand to his chest. And kneeling "How could you?"

"Sorry, Dad," Rusty said.

"Dad?" Lula said in disbelief.

"Well that explains how Rusty has a job here," I commented.

"Not anymore," Bitterman senior said in disdain. "You can take him in his own van." He fished his son's keys out of his pocket. "God knows what has happened in the back of that thing." He helped us get Russell into a standing position and we forced him to walk with us to the van.

"This is probably the time in the crime TV show where you call out to your dad and say, 'Daddy, NO!'" Lula joked.

"He'll forgive me," Russell said. "He has before."

"Well, we're going to try to not worry about that right now," I said. Russell didn't fight us again. He willingly went in his van. Lula and I got in the front and we drove to the police station. Since we figured Rusty would be in lock up for a while, we would be able to take his van back ourselves and pick up our own cars.

"What do you suppose has gone on in this car?" Lula asked as we were driving.

"Nothing I want to know about," I said.

We took Russell in. We had gotten all 5 of the outstanding FTA's. We were feeling pretty good. We drove the creepy van back to Cluck in a Bucket and got our cars back. Lula and I ended up separating there.

"I still didn't get my food," Lula called to me from her car. She stayed at the restaurant, and I headed home. I hadn't checked my Facebook in a while. When I got home, I immediately headed for my computer. But on my way there I saw that I had a message on my answering machine. I figured it was from Adam. But it wasn't.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" I heard Morelli's voice come out of the machine. "I gave you some time. But I know if I give you too much time, you'll never talk to me. Call me."

I wasn't going to call him. There was nothing to talk about. I was staying committed to Adam. That meant that I couldn't talk to my ex about babies. And it's not like I wanted to anyway.

When I finally got onto my Facebook, I had a lot of work ahead of me. I had friend requests up the wazoo. They were from Mary Lou, Grandma Mazur, Sally Sweet, and someone named Giggity G. Goo. My sister had accepted my friend request, and had written on my wall. I accepted the friend request except Giggity's. I saw that I had some emails. Most of them were from my friends who were checking that it was really me. Another was from my niece saying she didn't want her family on her Facebook. I considered emailing her back to ask her why she'd added her step-dad, but it really didn't matter. I then decided to check Adam's page. I hadn't gotten any emails or wall posts from him.

His page didn't look too different. He hadn't posted any statuses about me. Or at least not me specifically. His most recent status from 3 hours ago had been,

"Pretty interesting 24 hours I must say."

I wasn't sure if I was included in that or not. I was about to log off when I noticed something. Some girl named Ashley Michaelson had written on his wall in a post above mine. I knew I'd seen it before, but it wasn't until now that it mattered. He'd said his ex's name was Ashley.

"Hey bud! How's life? What's Trenton like? How's you know who doing? (If you know what I mean, ha ha)."

-Ashley

I didn't know what the 'you know who' referred to. Was she talking about me? There was only one comment on the post, and he'd written it.

"Everything is good."

-Adam

It didn't seem like he was interested in talking to her. But for all I knew they had talked more in depth on chat or something. I tried not to care about it. I talked to my ex's still, sort of. I chose to send him an email to ask when he wanted to get together again. And surprisingly, he answered my message just minutes later.

"You just get on?" I asked in a return email.

"I've been on all day," he emailed back. "I'm just keeping chat offline."

"Why?"

"So people won't talk to me."

"Oh," I responded in just a one word message. "Does that mean you don't want to talk to me?" I sent another email.

"No," he said. "I want to talk to you. It's other people that I don't want."

"Would, 'Ashley' be one of them?" I messaged.

"She'd be 'the one,'" Adam sent in a chat box. He'd gotten online.

"I didn't want to assume," I said. "But I just thought I'd check."

"I'm guessing you saw the wall post?" he asked.

"Yep," I replied.

"She doesn't seem to be online right now," he said. "So it should be okay. Anyway, about the next date, how does tomorrow sound?"

"Good."

"Okay, what would you like to do?"

"Same thing?" I suggested

"Okay."

"Minus the chick flick."

"Definitely okay," he wrote, and then added an, 'LOL'

"Huh?" I asked.

"Huh what?"

"'LOL'?"

"Laugh. Out. Loud," he explained.

"Oh, ha ha," I wrote back. I was about to ask what restaurant we'd be going to, when he logged off. I sat there in confusion until I got an email.

Sorry, Ashley logged on. And anyway, I should be working. I'll call you later.

-Adam

Seemed I wasn't the only one with annoying exes. I guess that was one way he and I weren't so different.