Twisted Twenty-Six (Stephanie Plum 26)

“I have two guys who didn’t show for court yesterday,” Connie said. “Tyrone Brown and Travis Wisneski.”

“Hold on,” Lula said. “We got a guy named Travis living in Trenton? That’s just not right. You got to live in Tennessee or Kentucky with a name like Travis. What did he do?”

“Robbed a liquor store.”

“What did he take?” Lula asked. “Liquor or money?”

“Money. At gunpoint.”

“That’s too bad,” Lula said. “If it was liquor you could understand he just needed a drink.”

I returned with my coffee. “What about Tyrone Brown?”

“Mrs. Schmidt said she caught Tyrone having relations with her dog.”

I choked on my coffee. “That’s horrible.”

“What kind of dog?” Lula asked.

Connie paged through the police report. “It was a black Lab.”

“That’s a good-size dog,” Lula said. “I’d need more information before I pass judgment on that. Like was it consensual. There’s dogs out there that might say okay to that sort of thing for a doggie treat. I knew a few of them when I was working my former profession.”

“When Tyrone was done with the dog, he had relations with Mrs. Schmidt,” Connie said, “and it definitely was not consensual.”

“I don’t like that,” Lula said. “Rape isn’t something I take lightly. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he had some drugs in him on account of not many men could perform like that. Most men would need a nap or a bowl of chili in between. Maybe some ribs or chicken wings.”

I gagged down the donut, took the two new file folders from Connie, and shoved them into my messenger bag.

“Looks like you’re getting ready to saddle up,” Lula said. “Guess I’ll tag along. Not every day we got a dog fornicator to bring in.”

* * *

—

Tyrone Brown lived in a two-bedroom bungalow in North Trenton. A Brown’s Plumbing van was parked in the driveway. A man left the house and approached the van just as we pulled up.

“This guy looks like the file picture,” Lula said. “Skinny fifty-two-year-old guy with a scraggly brown ponytail.”

I parked and walked up to the van. “Tyrone Brown?” I asked.

“Yeah, so?” he said.

“I represent your bail bondsman. You missed your trial date, and I need to help you reschedule.”

“Sure,” he said. “Reschedule me.”

“We’ll have to go to the courthouse,” I said. “It will only take a couple minutes.”

“I haven’t got a couple minutes. Do it without me. I got a job.”

I moved between him and the open door on the van. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Look, lady, I’m not going with you. Get out of my way. The whole thing is bogus anyway.”

“We heard you did the deed with the dog,” Lula said.

“The dog and the old lady came on to me. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to be rude.”