Page 5 of The Cauldronball Run (Outlaw Country #2)

S heriff Grizzly T. Lawman

Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman was halfway through his morning cup of coffee—black as tar and strong enough to wake a hibernating bear—when his son burst through the office door like a tornado in a trailer park.

"Daddy! Daddy, you gotta see this." Deputy Smokie Lawman clutched a crumpled piece of paper in one hand and his teddy bear husband Mr. Snuggles in the other.

The bear was wearing a tiny deputy badge that Smokie had fashioned from a bottle cap and electrical tape.

"I found something real suspicious on the internet. "

Grizz looked up from his paperwork and fixed his son with the kind of stare that had made hardened criminals confess to crimes they hadn't even committed. "Boy, what did I tell you about running in here like some damn fool chicken with its head cut off and its ass on fire?"

"But Daddy, this is important. Mr. Snuggles thinks we might have a real criminal conspiracy on our hands.

" Smokie smoothed out the paper on Grizz's desk, leaving wrinkles that made the text nearly illegible.

"Fifteen thousand gold for a medical transport?

That don't seem right to Mr. Snuggles or me. "

Grizz squinted at the paper, then at his son, then at the teddy bear, which seemed to be staring back at him with button eyes full of judgment. "What the Sam Hill are you babbling about now? And why is that mangy stuffed animal wearing a badge?"

"Well, I was just thinking—"

"There's your first mistake. Thinking. You leave the thinking to me and stick to what you're good at.

" Grizz snatched the paper away, his reading glasses sliding down his considerable nose.

"Which, as far as I can tell, is making coffee that tastes like motor oil and giving that teddy bear ideas above its station. "

"But Daddy, the money—"

"Shut up and let me read, boy." Grizz scanned the posting. "Well, I'll be dipped in shit and rolled in cornmeal. This does smell fishier than a tuna cannery in August."

Smokie perked up, clutching Mr. Snuggles tighter. "That's exactly what Mr. Snuggles said."

"I don't give a flying flip what that cotton-stuffed pole cat thinks," Grizz growled, though he found himself looking at the bear again. Those button eyes were unsettling. "Now get me on that computer contraption so I can see where this came from. And try not to break it this time."

Smokie scurried over to the ancient desktop computer that the county had purchased sometime during the Clinton administration.

He pushed the power button three times before remembering he needed to flip the surge protector switch first. The machine wheezed to life with the enthusiasm of an emphysema patient climbing stairs.

"It's posted by someone called J.J.," Smokie announced after five minutes of hunting and pecking at the keyboard.

"Son of a diseased bitch in heat," Grizz snarled. "Run a search for J.J. Grimjaw. Right now."

"Why that name specifically, Daddy?"

"Because I said so, that's why. You questioning my orders now, boy? You want to turn in that bottle cap badge and let Mr. Snuggles handle the police work?"

"No sir." Smokie banged on the keyboard with the finesse of a gorilla playing piano. The computer made several beeping sounds before finally producing results. "Here it is. J.J. Grimjaw, licensed EMT, current address Bridgeport, Connecticut..."

"That's him," Grizz snarled. "That's the green sumbitch who helped those criminals escape your wedding reception. Made me look like a damn fool in front of half the county and three news crews."

Smokie adjusted Mr. Snuggles nervously. "But Daddy, maybe he was just—"

"Just what? Just helping his criminal friends make asses out of the Lawman family?" Grizz slammed his fist on the desk. "Boy, sometimes I wonder if you got the brains Zeus gave a retarded goldfish."

"Sorry, Daddy. Mr. Snuggles says I should think before I speak."

"Mr. Snuggles is right. Which is disturbing on several levels.

" Grizz stood up, all six feet and four hundred pounds of him, causing his chair to roll backward and crash into the filing cabinet.

"This here's criminal conspiracy, plain and simple.

That orc thinks he can run some kind of scam in my jurisdiction? Well, he's got another think coming."

"What do you think he's planning?" Smokie asked, then held Mr. Snuggles up to his ear. "Mr. Snuggles wants to know too."

"Illegal racing, most likely. The Cauldronball Run.

" Grizz started pacing, his boots thundering on the linoleum floor like a small earthquake with anger issues.

"Bunch of supernatural speed demons racing cross-country, thinking they can ignore every traffic law ever written and make a mockery of proper law enforcement. "

"The Cauldronball Run? But Daddy, that's just stories—"

"Stories my hairy ass. It's real as rain and twice as dangerous, and that green bastard is trying to recruit himself a partner to make it look legitimate.

" Grizz wheeled around to face his son, who instinctively stepped behind his teddy bear for protection.

"Fifteen thousand gold, boy. You think somebody pays that kind of money for hauling sick folks to the hospital in a regulation ambulance following posted speed limits? "

"Well, no, but—"

"But nothing. This J.J. character thinks he's gonna make a fool out of me twice?

Not in this lifetime, not in the next lifetime, and not in any parallel universe where things make sense.

" Grizz grabbed his hat and badge, knocking over his pencil holder in the process.

Pens scattered across the floor like fleeing insects.

"Smokie, get on that radio and alert every law enforcement agency from here to the Pacific Ocean.

Tell them Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman has got himself a situation. "

"What should I tell them exactly?" Smokie asked, carefully stepping around the rolling pens.

"Tell them we got criminal conspiracy, interstate flight, reckless endangerment, and a whole mess of supernatural troublemakers heading their way. And tell them if they see anything suspicious, they better damn well call me first because I'm in hot pursuit of justice and personal vindication."

Smokie hesitated, whispering something to Mr. Snuggles before looking back at his father. "Daddy? What if we're wrong? What if it really is just medical transport? Mr. Snuggles thinks we should consider all the possibilities."

Grizz fixed his son with a stare that could melt steel beams. "Boy, I've been wearing this badge since before you were a gleam in my eye and that bear was a gleam in some factory worker's eye.

My nose can smell criminal activity from three counties away, and this whole setup stinks to high heaven like a skunk convention in a sewage treatment plant. "

"Yes sir. Mr. Snuggles says you're probably right."

"Damn right I'm right. We're gonna stake out the Red Ball Garage where this race is supposed to start and catch us some degenerates in the act of degenerating."

"What if they're real fast, Daddy? Mr. Snuggles is worried about the pursuit capabilities of our patrol car."

"Fast?" Grizz grinned, showing teeth that looked like they could chew through a steel bumper.

"Son, ain't no sumbitch alive can outrun the long arm of the law when that arm belongs to Sheriff Grizzley T.

Lawman. I don't care if they got rocket engines and genuine fairy dust sprinkled on their carburetors.

They're gonna learn today what proper law enforcement looks like. "

Smokie clutched Mr. Snuggles tighter, making the tiny badge jingle. "Should I bring extra handcuffs? And maybe some tiny ones for Mr. Snuggles to carry?"

"Bring everything we got, boy. Handcuffs, road spikes, flares, and that riot gun we never get to use.

Because when I'm done with this Cauldronball Run, every speed demon in the supernatural world is gonna know exactly who runs law enforcement in Fairweather County.

" Grizz pulled out a road atlas that looked like it had survived both world wars and started marking routes with a thick red pen that left gouges in the paper.

"That green sumbitch thinks he's so damn clever, recruiting innocent folks to help with his racing scheme.

Well, J.J. Grimjaw is about to get himself an education in proper law enforcement, courtesy of yours truly and the Fairweather County Sheriff's Department. "

"Yes sir, Daddy." Smokie paused at the door, Mr. Snuggles held up to his ear. "Mr. Snuggles wants to know if we should pack snacks for the stakeout."

"Tell Mr. Snuggles that real lawmen don't need snacks when justice is on the line. We sustain ourselves on righteous anger and the satisfaction of a job well done."

"But Daddy, what if we get hungry?"

Grizz looked at his son, then at the teddy bear, then back at his son. "Pack the damn snacks.”

"Yes sir! Mr. Snuggles says thank you."

As Smokie hurried out to prepare for their stakeout, Grizz leaned back in his protesting chair and surveyed his coffee-stained paperwork. This time, he was going to get that orc. This time, Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman was going to win.

And if a teddy bear in a bottle cap badge had to help him do it, well, stranger things had happened in law enforcement. Not many, but some.

Besides, the bear was his stuffed-in-law.