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We rolled him over onto his back, Lula took his legs, and I got him under his armpits. We got him about two inches off the floor and dropped him.
“This isn’t going to work,” I said. “He’s too big. He’s dead weight. We’ll have to drag him.”
I took a leg and Lula took a leg and we dragged him acrossthe floor and out the door. We got him off the small front stoop, down the two steps, and onto the grass. The SUV was parked about ten feet away with Bob looking at us from the front seat, his nose pressed to the window. We dragged Trundle to the back, I opened the rear hatch, and Lula and I looked down at him. He was drooling and his pinky finger was twitching.
“He’s got a twitchy finger,” Lula said. “Maybe you should give him some more volts.”
“No can do. Stun gun is dead. Needs to be recharged.” I cut my eyes to her. “Do you have a stun gun?”
“No. I just have one of those guns that gobang.”
A couple more fingers were twitching now.
“It’s going to be impossible to get him into the SUV once he comes around,” I said. “You take one side and I’ll take the other, and we’ll push him in headfirst.”
We got him halfway in, and Lula ran around and got into the back seat and pulled while I pushed. By the time we got him all the way in I was sweating through my T-shirt. I closed the hatch and jumped behind the wheel. Lula stayed in the back seat, keeping an eye on Trundle. Bob was in front with me. I drove out of the yard and wasted no time getting to the police station. I had about a mile to go when Trundle started swearing and rolling around in the back. He managed to sit up and Lula hauled out her gun.
“Are you going to shoot me?” he said. “I’m unarmed.”
“I’m not going to shoot you,” Lula said. “I’m going to smash this Glock into your nose, right between your beady eyes.”
“Not until I butt my head into your fat face,” Trundle said.
“Excuse me?” Lula said. “Fat? Did you just say my face was fat?”
“Yeah,” Trundle said. “Fat, fat, fat.”
Bob climbed onto the console and squeezed himself between the two front seats. He sidled up next to Lula and growled at Trundle, lips curled back, showing his huge white Bob teeth.
“Whoa,” Trundle said. “What’s with the dog?”
“He’s a killer,” Lula said. “You want to sit back down and be real calm. He doesn’t like when people are rude.”
I drove through the lot where the cops parked their cars and took Trundle to the back entrance. I called inside and asked for assistance. A uniform came out and I handed Trundle over to him. I followed the uniform inside and Lula drove the Explorer to the lot across the street. I was back in the Explorer forty-five minutes later.
“Did you get your body receipt?” Lula asked me.
“Yes. It took longer than usual. They had a lot going on. Apparently, someone shot up a bowling alley. Domestic dispute that turned ugly.”
“People are serious about bowling,” Lula said. “I don’t get it, personally. I guess it could be fun, but you have to wear those shoes. I mean, they aren’t fashion-forward, you see what I’m saying? And putting my perfectly pedicured and enameled toes in a rental? Not going to happen.”
Bob was sharing the seat with Lula. He had his butt on her lap and his paws on the dashboard. Bob weighs in at seventy-five pounds, so it’s not like he’s a lapdog.
“Is Bob going to ride like this from now on?” I asked.
“Bob can ride wherever the heck he wants,” Lula said. “He’s my hero.”
I had to admit I was impressed. I’d never heard him growl like that. It was like he actually knew what was happening.
I cut across town to Hamilton Avenue and parked in front of the bail bonds office, and Sissy called.
“I don’t know if I should be making this phone call,” she said. “I just talked to Duncan. He didn’t sound good. He was in a lot of pain, which I guess is to be expected. It was a long car ride. Anyway, he’s seeing a doctor tomorrow. The thing is, he’s talking about leaving the country. Going to Thailand. Thailand! What is he going to do in Thailand?”
“Is he in Maine?”
“He’s with his brother. Wherever that is. You said you would help him. I think he needs help. He’s with Andrew, and I’m not sure about Andrew. I think he means well, but Andrew seems a little… eccentric.”
“Did you tell him that I wanted to talk to Andrew?”
