Page 13 of Stilettos & Whiskey
“Copy, Charlie-24,” the dispatcher replied.
“George-20 show me en route to that location,” Sergeant Bergman advised.
“Copy, George-20.”
Florence held her arms up. “Come to Momma, Twiggy.”
Twiggy hissed.
“Has she ever attacked you?” Call me concerned.
Refusing to meet my eyes, Florence mumbled, “Kinda.”
“Kinda? It’s either a yes or a no.”
“Yes,” Florence spat. “Happy now?”
I backed away from the tree. “No.”
“It was my fault. I forgot to feed her, and she gets a bit snappy when she’s hungry,” Florence admitted, rubbing the scar on her right hand.
Twiggy hissed again.
“Did you forget to feed her last night?”
Florence just glared at me.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” To my relief the animal control van pulled up.
Tommy, a skinny Hispanic male, got out of the van. “How big is the python, Julie?”
“Twiggy is twenty feet long and hungry,” I answered.
“Not good.” Opening the back of the van, Tommy took out a snake stick, a bag and a frozen rat. “Show me where Twiggy is.”
I pointed up.
Twiggy hissed angrily.
Tommy held up the rat.
To my utter surprise, Twiggy slithered down the tree and politely took the rat from Tommy’s hand.
“I’ll be damned,” Sergeant Bergman said from behind me.
I bit back a yelp. We definitely needed to put a bell on him.
Tommy stuffed Twiggy in the snake bag. “Who is the owner?”
“I am,” Florence snapped. “All of this is unnecessary.”
“Do you have an exotic animal permit?”
Florence chewed on her lower lip. “No.”
“Let’s talk.” Tommy headed for his van.
Mildred stormed out of the house. “I’ve got something to say too!”
