Ok,  here it is!  There's not a  Dedication Challenge for this chapter, (I know it just breaks your heart)  



Ron's impatience sounds out, loud and clear. Since Brandy's car was taken as evidence and had to be thoroughly inspected for clues, Ron volunteered to pick her up this morning. Now he is regretting the choice. Brandy runs late most of the time, whereas Ron is always prompt. Punctuality is one of Ron's biggest pet peeves.

“C'mon Page, Jesus...” He dials her number.


Ron holds the phone to his ear annoyed, “Damn females.”


Finally she answers, “Travis, sorry, I'm coming...shit...sorry, I'll be right there...ow, damn it...”

The call ends abruptly. Apparently as Brandy was struggling, hurriedly trying to collect herself, she accidentally terminated the call prematurely.

Ron disappointedly shakes his head and rolls his eyes. 'Why me?'

Finally, with just seven minutes to left, to make the ten minute drive to the station, Brandy rushes from the apartment building. Her trusty coffee mug in one hand and her briefcase, and jacket in the other.

“Thanks Travis, sorry.”

He glances to her, “You're slower than a constipated snail shittin' molasses in the winter.”

Brandy's eyebrow raises, “Well, good morning to you too, Sourpuss McGrumpy pants.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“You? Every time I tried to close my eyes, I kept seeing body parts.” She rubs the backside of her hand.

“What happened to your hand?” Ron's curious.

“I just burnt it on the coffee pot...somebody was rushing me this morning.”

“Hey, don't blame cause you were runnin late.”

Brandy notices she is sitting on a plastic liner, wrapped around the passenger seat. Every time she moves it 'crinkles' and 'crackles'.

Ron notices its bothering her, “Sorry about that, but it's better than sitting in the kidney seat, unprotected.”

She gives him a sarcastic look, “Is it?” 'crinkle – crackle – crinkle'