Love, your stalker

Fifteen

At the end of the memorable funeral, I saw Bobbie walk away at the speed of light. I know I'm not a police officer, but I felt a little suspicious. Why would you not cry at your brothers funerals?

I told Lacey and Harrison Jr. I'll be right back, then left, and followed Bobbie all the way into the woods nearby. It was sticky, swampy and overall, gross. The dirt was so muddy the ground sunk like quicksand with every step. Bobbie was tip-toeing on the tips of her toes, all the way to the other side of the woods. I quietly followed behind. If I snapped a twig or tripped, I made it look like it was an innocent animal.

Finally, after ten minutes of misery, we made it to the end.

My jaw dropped to the ground and my eyes popped open, the size of volleyballs.

Kirk entangled Bobbie in her arms, kissed her on the lips twice and hugged her. Bobbie seemed like the happiest person on the Earth. So did Kirk. Bobbie slipped off her blue baggy police pants and zipped off her shirt and revealed normal everyday clothes. Skinny denim and a grey shirt with brown boots.

She was a fake cop.

Kirk and Bobbie kissed again, but this time three times, and started walking out of the woods to a hidden car.

*       *       *

I ran out of the woods, pushing twigs and thick branches out of my way, racing toward the other cops still there, grieving."Someone! I need help! Now!"

One cop named Russel Hodges shot up and jogged toward me. "Ma'am what's wrong?"

"It's Bobbie. She used to, technically, kind of, be a cop with you guys."

"Who's Bobbie? We've never had a Bobbie work with us."

I know! That's what I'm trying to explain! "I know. She dressed as a cop and may have hung around you guys, but she wan't really a cop."

The cop help up his pointer finger, shut his eyes tight, like he was in a nightmare, and tilted his blond head to the side. "Was she blond? Pretty? Young looking? Braces maybe?"

I nod. That's exactly her.

The police man's eyes pop open, almost popping out of their sockets. He whips out his walkie-talkie and calls someone. "I need back-up now. I'm at 11th Street at the funeral. I've had Mrs. Phelps report the serial killers we've been looking for."