Maddison Winchester: Journal 6 {Supernatural}

5 Weekend at Bobby's: Part 3

The next morning, Nate and I walked out of our bedrooms at the same time. We took turns getting ready in the bathroom and then walked out to the kitchen to find Bobby sitting at the table with three small plates set out in front of chairs and the cobbler in front of him.

He gestured to the chairs, and we sat uncomfortably, waiting to get screamed at or whatever he was planning. He started cutting into the cobbler.

"You aren't going to tell Dean, right?" I blurted out.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at me. "I don't want to have this conversation with you. What makes you think I want to talk to him about it?" He shrugged and looked at Nate. "Besides, we're low on hunters as it is. Don't need hunters taking out hunters." Nate gulped and looked down anxiously. As Bobby went to scoop up a piece of the cobbler, his cell phone started ringing, and he rolled his eyes. "Now what?" He grumbled and then answered, "Yeah." (...) "Well, what happened to the silver knife blessed by a priest?"

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door. "Police!"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Balls!" Then he flipped through a book and turned his attention back to Dean. "Where are you?" (...) "Is there a kitchen?" (...) "Find salt and rosemary." He looked up at the entrance of the kitchen when there was more pounding on the front door.

"Open up, Singer!" someone shouted.

He sighed, shook his head, and walked out of the kitchen, still on the phone.

Nate and I glanced at each other and then followed after him. A man in a suit held up an FBI badge at the front door, and Sheriff Mills stood beside him.

"Mr. Singer. I'm Agent Adams." Adams tucked his badge away. "I believe you know Sheriff Mills."

Bobby nodded and then gestured for them to wait a minute. "My mom." He pointed to his phone. "Just a sec." Then he turned back and walked toward his study, and Nate and I followed. "Great, great. Now, blend the herbs. Sauté over high heat. Cook well."

Then, the agent and Sheriff Mills joined us in the study.

"Okay. Great. Great. Enjoy the roast, Mom." Bobby hung up and turned to the agent.

Adams held up a sketch that looked like Rufus. "Have you seen this man? Rufus Turner, aka Luther Vandross, aka Ruben Studdard."

Bobby shook his head. "No, I've never seen that dick."

Adams raised an eyebrow. "How do you know he's a dick?"

Bobby shrugged. "Lucky guess."

Sheriff Mills rolled her eyes.

Adams nodded. "Funny. 'Cause I got a couple of guys working the highway said they saw him pull in here. Carrying a body."

Bobby shook his head. "Well, that's ridiculous. Look, it's a workday, I gotta—"

"I just want to take a look around," Adams said.

Bobby took a few steps toward him. "You got a warrant, sonny?"

Adams stepped forward to get in Bobby's face. "Well, do I need one, sir?"

The two stared at each other for a moment, and then Sheriff Mills stepped in and patted both of them on the chest. "Okay, fellas, put the rulers away. Zip up." She turned to Adams. "Look, Bobby here is kind of a crank. And he ain't what you call a fan of big brother, but me and him—" She glanced at Bobby over her shoulder. "How long I been arresting you now? Ten years?"

Bobby shrugged and nodded. "Thereabouts."

Sheriff Mills nodded and then turned back to Adams. "Yeah, we got a history, so... what do you say? Just let me scope the place out. That okay? You could just wait outside."