The Legend of Bobcat Bill: a Sheriff Thomas Peacemaker Mystery: A Texas Lawman Living Quietly in New Hampshire

By Xlibris US

Thomas Peacemaker, having left behind a career as a wily Texas Ranger, leads a quiet life as a county sheriff in New Hampshire, enjoying the pristine natural beauty of New England as much as the chai tea lattes he gets from his local Starbucks. But when Jacques Fortier, the retired hockey star known as the Johnstown Jet, is found dead under a hexagram painted in blood, Sheriff Peacemaker along with a crew of maverick former Rangers, two Zulu warriors, and his trusty bobcat Bill is on the case. As Peacemaker begins to investigate the case of the murdered hockey star, he realizes hes treading on thin ice and as the townspeople try to warn him, he doesnt know what demons lurk beneath the sleepy towns serene surface. After secrets emerge about a history of occult activities in Johnstown and a series of scandals in Fortiers past, Peacemaker realizes that his quiet county is haunted in more ways than one and its going to take a magical elixir of African witch doctoring and Texan know-how to purge Exeter County of evil once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499057492

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

2:15 p.m., October 12

Bobcat Bill

P eacemaker walked into Ray’s Bar for Bikers and ordered his usual. As usual, Ray didn’t say a word to him but brought him a bottle of Maine Root ginger brew, and Peacemaker slugged it down. Two bikers down the bar from him looked over and guffawed.

Ray walked down to them and said, Boys, that ain’t a good idea. I suggest you stop now.

The bikers were both big guys with a multitude of tattoos. One of them said to the other, Jess, I think the barman thinks Andy is dangerous. Are you dangerous, Andy?

Peacemaker looked at Ray. Why is he calling me Andy, Ray?

Jess replied, You remind him of Andy of Mayberry, you dumbass hick sher—

Before Jess could finish his sentence, Peacemaker’s ginger brew bottle hit him square in the forehead and knocked him out cold. Peacemaker cuffed him, read him his rights even though he was knocked out cold, picked up the 230-pound biker as if he were a feather pillow, and dragged him outside to the curb. Peacemaker then went back inside and told the other biker to put his hands behind his back, for he was under arrest.

The biker yelled, Sheriff, I didn’t do nothing. You can’t arrest me!

Peacemaker laughed. Ray here saw you riding your bike while intoxicated. That’s against the law in Exeter County. You’re under arrest.

You didn’t see me riding my bike while I was drinking, you lying bastard, the biker boy shouted at Ray. I got drunk before I got here!

Ray sadly shook his head. I tried to warn you two girls not to screw with the local constabulary, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you must pay your debts to society.

Peacemaker took both DUI suspects out to his dark green Ford F-350 and threw them in the back seat next to a steel cage. As Jess came to, he looked to his right and saw he was face-to-face with a small bobcat that hissed at him.

Lord Almighty! Jess screamed. What the hell is that?

Peacemaker looked back in his rearview mirror and said, That’s a police dog, fella. His name is Barney Fife. Peacemaker laughed so hard he almost wet his britches. No, I’m only kidding. You have just made the acquaintance of Bobcat Bill, the most notorious bobcat in all of these fifty states—in fact, in the world.

The other biker, beginning to sober up and realize that the Andy remark might not have been his brightest moment, said, Sheriff, my name is Marvin and I apologize for referring to you as Andy. May I ask how Bobcat Bill became so notorious?

You may indeed, Marvin, the lawman responded. But that doesn’t mean I will tell you. Instead, I’d like to ask you fellas a different question. Either of you boys ever operate a road grader or a paving machine?

The two bikers looked at each other and shook their heads.

Well, that’s grand, said Peacemaker. We are going to teach you some new skills. We don’t just incarcerate in Exeter County. We rehabilitate. And with that he laughed again.

Peacemaker picked up his cell phone. Terrence? This is Sheriff Peacemaker. Two new inmates have volunteered to work the rest of the week as temporary employees for you on your road construction project. You can pick them up at eight a.m. sharp tomorrow, and don’t be late!

When the truck pulled up to the back of the Exeter County jail, two lean young deputies came out the back door carrying shotguns. The prisoners looked at them and then at each other. The two deputies were identical twins. Both had buzz cuts, large dagger tattoos on their right arms that pointed to the letters USMC and tattooed hearts inked with Momma on their left arms.

Bamba, Sami, these here are some of our new guests. Please show them to their accommodations, the sheriff said.

Sami took each man into the processing station where they were photographed, fingerprinted, and handed a bright red jumpsuit with Exeter County Jail on the front and Terry’s Temps on the back. The two men were then led downstairs to the basement of the jail and past a sign that said, All who enter here abandon all hope. The basement was made of cinder block painted a bright yellow, and the floor was made of cement painted dark green.

The jailer was a former bouncer named Curtis who took both men from Sami and led them down a hall with six cells on each side. The first cell was a large one with a double bed, a warm throw rug, a lazy boy, and a fireplace.

Marvin’s eyes lit up. I want that one!

Curtis chuckled. You boys are cute. That’s the sheriff’s cell. He stays there when he needs to meditate in monasterylike conditions, or when he has to be here really late, or, most usually, when the judge throws him out of the house for pissing her off.

The cell next to the sheriff’s had a blanket covering the bars. A sign hanging on the door said, The doctor is in.

Curtis looked at the prisoners. Oh, that’s just Nelson—a whole other story.

Jess and Marvin just shook their heads and followed the jailer. Finally, he led them to a six-by-eight-foot cell. It was small, bare, and concrete floored with nothing in it but two cots, a toilet with no seat, and a small sink. The jailer locked them in the cell and said, Din din is at 6:30, lights out at 9:00, and your rehabilitation begins at 7:30 in the morning.

Jess looked out of his cell down the hall. The cell directly across from theirs held three bearded men who looked very cross. Jess yelled, What’s the story on that damned bobcat?

One of the three men in the other cell looked at the largest guy and said, Gus, why don’t you tell them the ballad of Bobcat Bill?

Gus slowly moved his head from side to side. Bobcat Bill is why we’re all in here: no Bobcat Bill, no Tom Peacemaker.

What the hell are you talking about? Jess called in return.

And this is the tale that Gus told his new neighbor and future road improvement colleague.

Tom Peacemaker was the youngest man to ever attain the rank of captain in that legendary law enforcement agency, the Texas Rangers. Like most Texas Rangers, he despised authority, liked catching bad guys and enjoyed breaking rules he believed interfered with his ability to carry out his duties as a peace officer. Because of his previous occupation, which no one was quite sure of, the governor of Texas gave Peacemaker special assignments and generally bailed him out of trouble when Peacemaker’s somewhat unorthodox law enforcement endeavors got him in hot water. It was on a special assignment for the governor that the bobcat adventure began.

It seems the governor was asked to give a speech at the Dallas Zoo about rising crime in the state. At that time, a convicted murderer named Delbert Dennison was known to be in the area. Dennison had just appealed to the governor to grant a pardon, but since he was running for reelection on a get tough on crime theme, the governor turned the request down cold. As Dennison was being led to the death chamber, however, he somehow escaped and vowed to kill the governor.

As a precaution, the state’s leader asked Captain Peacemaker to accompany him for his speech. Peacemaker knew Dennison because he’d put the man on death row, and so while the governor was speaking, Peacemaker watched the crowd. He saw a man in dark glasses inching toward the podium and recognized the faint limp that marked Dennison ever since Peacemaker first apprehended him. Peacemaker could have nabbed him right then and there or pointed him out to one of the other twenty or so rangers planted in the crowd, but instead, he waited calmly for the dangerous criminal to get closer. Just as Dennison pulled out a small pistol, Peacemaker reached out, knocked Dennison out cold, and watched him fall to the ground. Two rangers took Dennison back to prison. Meanwhile, the governor told Peacemaker to take the rest of the day off and enjoy the zoo, which he did.

As Peacemaker wandered the zoo, he came upon something that disturbed him greatly. Far from the other exhibits stood a small cage with a little hut, almost like a jail cell, that housed a small wildcat. The cat appeared agitated and paced back and forth; it almost appeared to be talking to itself. So Peacemaker found a guy in a zoo uniform and asked him what the deal with the bobcat was.

The zoo guy gazed wistfully at the bobcat. Several years ago the Dallas Zoo had one of the largest and most prosperous dik dik herds in the world.

Captain Peacemaker asked him what a dik dik was.

The zoo official replied, A dik dik is a small antelope. They come from East Africa and Angola. The female makes a sound like ‘dik dik’ when they are scared or alarmed. That’s how they got their name. They’re among the planet’s most gentle creatures.

I’m sorry, Peacemaker said. I’m not seeing the connection with the bobcat.

You will. You see, someone or something started breaking into the zoo and killing the dik diks. Our herd went from twenty-four to fourteen animals. Finally, the staff at the zoo put in security cameras, started setting traps and sure enough, that little guy over there—he pointed at the bobcat—was the culprit. The zoo director couldn’t find the heart to have him shot, but he didn’t want him coming back and doing it again, so he put him in an exhibit.

Captain Peacemaker’s eyes lit up. Well, I’ll be damned. You caught a murderer and incarcerated him for life! Peacemaker looked at the official and said, One more question: did you give him a trial?

The zoo official was taken aback. We caught him chewing on a dik dik. He was caught red-handed!

Peacemaker looked the man straight in the eye. You incarcerated the critter for life! He at least deserves a fair trial!

The zoo guy just rolled his eyes and walked away.

That night, Captain Thomas Peacemaker was standing at a bar on the outskirts of Dallas, drinking something stronger than ginger ale with four of the rangers in his company. Boys, before you head back to Austin, I have to right an injustice that has taken place. I can’t demand that any of you go with me. It will be a dangerous and risky mission, and I can’t promise you will come back unscathed, let alone alive. So I stress again, this is a volunteer-only situation.

In unison, all four men asked, What are you going to force us to volunteer to do, Captain?

Peacemaker beamed. Why, boys, thanks so much for volunteering. We are going to the Dallas Zoo on a rescue mission!

Two hours later, five drunken Texas Rangers took a small burlap sack in the back of a pick-up truck over to White Rock Lake on the east side of Dallas, found a grove of trees, and threw the snarling bundle into the trees. They hooted and hollered as they raced out of the park and onto the highway. The captain dropped the other four off next to their state-issued SUV, and they were singing as they headed back to Austin.

The rangers were halfway home down I-35 when a Department of Public Safety roadblock hailed them, had them all get out of the truck and arrested the lot of them. A security camera at the zoo caught the whole daring escape. If the rangers had been sober, they would have shot out the cameras, but they weren’t, and they never saw the cameras that later identified them to the zoo’s head of security. The four rangers never mentioned their captain, but the troopers who arrested them knew who their leader was. The state cops working with the Dallas police department figured the whole thing out lickety-split.

When the state troopers showed up at his home in the middle of the night, Captain Peacemaker took all responsibility, entered a plea bargain, which exonerated his men and agreed to resign in lieu of being arrested. The governor was crying as he said good-bye to his best friend and most trusted advisor. He watched Peacemaker get in his pick-up and head northeast. When Peacemaker crossed the state line into Arkansas, he stopped at a motel and heard hissing from the back of his pick-up. When he unloaded his bags, he found the little bobcat staring at him. The two have been together ever since, and that’s how Bobcat Bill and Tom Peacemaker got together.

But why did he name him Bill? Jess asked.

That was the governor’s name. Gus sighed.

CHAPTER TWO

May 1988

Tom and Emma

A manda Emma Martingale-Waldorf, or Emma, as she was known, had always been a pistol, even when she was a little girl. Her mother went on a holiday to France when Emma was two and never returned. She and her brother Phillip were raised by their father. Her great-grandfather Herbert Percy Martingale-Waldorf was a founding partner in the 1930s of one of New York’s oldest and most venerable law firms. Emma’s father Lawrence joined the firm when he was twenty-five after graduating from Yale Law School and ran it with an iron fist for twenty years, all the while doing battle with his headstrong daughter. Emma attended Smith against her father’s wishes, went to Harvard Law instead of Yale, left the northeast for Texas against his wishes, and, in a final act of brutal defiance, took up with the devil incarnate, a Texas lawman.

When Emma first got out of law school, she clerked for a federal judge, as her father and grandfather had done, but then she went to work in the US Attorney’s office in Washington DC. Her father and grandfather made careers of battling the government in high-stakes litigation, and so Emma had joined the dark side. Her father told her he would never forgive her for not going into the family firm, and Emma enjoyed needling him immensely about her work on behalf of the government.

When Emma was in her midtwenties, she became an assistant US attorney, the youngest one in thirty years. For her first assignment, she was sent to Dallas, Texas, to take a deposition from a key witness in a case the government was bringing against a large drug manufacturer. Emma drove her rental car to a restaurant in the city that the hotel concierge had recommended in a part of town known as Deep Ellum, a lively but edgy area, full of good eateries but frequented by bikers, gangs, druggies, as well as a few other undesirable denizens, including Democrats.

Emma got to the restaurant fairly late and had to park relatively far from the place. When she finished her meal around 11:30, there were few people out, and the long walk to the parking lot was unsettling. Emma was not a timid person, but she wasn’t stupid either, and when three guys in leather jackets appeared out of nowhere and stepped onto the sidewalk not far behind her, she was not happy. Just as she reached the parking lot and turned right into it, the three men quickened their pace behind her. The men weren’t hiding their intentions; they also turned right and moved toward her.

Having had enough, Emma turned to face them. Okay, you pricks, that’s far en—

Before she could finish her sentence, a tall man in a denim jacket and jeans stepped in front of her. His long black hair streamed from his cowboy hat, and he walked right up to the men following Emma.

Howdy, boys, do your mommies know you are out playing this late at night? he asked pleasantly.

One of the toughs looked at the cowboy and said, What the hell are you supposed to be, Wild Bill Hickok? Beat it, hero.

The cowboy adjusted his coat to reveal a gold Colt .45 revolver. He said, Naw, I’m way better looking than him, before hitting the thug so hard in the jaw that he flew over a car. The other two hoodlums started to run, but four other men in Stetson hats leaped out of the shadows and grabbed them, threw them on some parked cars, and kicked the hell out of them until the bullies ran away.

Emma, all five foot one of her, turned and stormed up to the long-haired man who’d interceded on her behalf, got in his face, poked him hard in the chest, and said, Thanks a lot, you redneck sonovabitch. You could have chased off those assholes anytime, but you thought you’d have some fun watching them scare the crap out of me first!

Peacemaker was struck dumb. Simply by looking down at her, he got a knot in his stomach that hit him harder than any punch she could throw. She had long blond hair, a very nice shape and blue eyes the size of milk saucers. He was smitten immediately.

No, ma’am, I wasn’t messing with you, he finally said. We were getting ready to grab some dinner, and I saw you walk out of the restaurant when we drove by and observed the three of them in the alley as we passed it. I had my friends drop me off on the other side of the parking lot and then waited; I couldn’t yell at them for just walking down a street. Once they went after you, then I could intercede, and I did.

Then Peacemaker stared at her again. Emma was getting mad just by his close presence, so she socked him in the chest again. She’d never reacted to anyone like this in her life and even surprised herself by her behavior.

Hey! Peacemaker said this time. He grabbed his chest where she hit him and picked her up and kissed her right on the mouth before gently setting her down. Emma was too shocked to react. Peacemaker looked her in the eye, tipped his hat to her and walked away, saying, I probably won’t press assault charges against you, but you never know.

Emma hated men getting in her personal space and towering over her, but once, she got her bearings after the kiss and looked up at Peacemaker; his eyes were so amused that her anger vaporized. He’d mumbled something about arresting her before walking away. He did not go far, however, but stood with his pals at the far end of the parking lot to make sure Emma made it safely out of the parking lot. Emma took a deep breath, giggled and finally got in her car and drove off.

The next day, Emma’s deposition went late, and she missed the last flight home to Washington. A fellow lawyer invited her to a charity event on the estate of one of Dallas’s most prominent oil families. The family was at their Colorado ranch and had agreed to let their home be used for the event that night. The house was located in the Old Preston Hollow area of Dallas, where homes routinely sat on five or more acres and the houses themselves were over 20,000 square feet.

When Emma and her colleague arrived, a valet took their car and ushered them around back. As they walked onto the grounds behind the mansion, they could hear an orchestra playing what sounded like a cello suite by Bach. In fact, they were surprised to see the music was actually being played by a rockabilly band called Cinco Paso on a stage in front of a dance floor. The Bach piece ended, and the band abruptly broke into Carrying Your Love with Me, by George Strait. As Emma looked to the stage, something about the band seemed familiar to her. She then looked around and noticed something about the guests. Virtually all of them appeared to be smoking dope or snorting coke, and they were doing it right out in the open. As a New Yorker, nothing much startled her, but as an officer of the