Chapter 1

“Hello, Sheriff Coop de Doop!”

Looking around, Rob saw that it was old man Goat. He smiled and waved, then responded with “Hey Billy Goat!” as he continued walking.

His last name wasn’t Goat, but, he had this straggly gray beard, and his first name was William, and while Rob couldn’t quite pull all the pieces together, it had something to do with all of Goat’s brothers and sisters that townsfolk got to calling him Uncle William ... then it progressed to Uncle Billy, and before long he was Uncle Billy Goat.

Old man Goat chuckled every time he heard someone call him that. Not his kids, though. Ellen and Levi simply called him Dad.

The day was coming to a close and Rob was happy about that. He’d dealt with a smashed mailbox out on 199 at the Jonesville farm and then got called to the high school about a suspicious gas smell. Turned out to be a couple of kids mixing liquids in the chemistry department without proper ventilation.

Can you spell D-E-T-E-N-T-I-O-N chuckled Rob to himself as he watched Miss Crenshaw, the aged principal, tongue lash the two youths. From there it was a quick hop across the 2nd Street Bridge to the Fire Department for his mandatory lifesaving refresher course. Everyone in the department knew he could teach the course standing on one foot, but village bylaws were bylaws.

He had but one more scheduled stop, the short jaunt down Canal Street to St. Patrick’s. In exchange for letting his veteran’s group hold weekly meetings in the basement, he’d agreed to referee basketball early Friday evenings with boys from the parish.

Rob was glad that there was a second referee who liked nothing better than to run up and down the court all game long. He knew his knee would never stand up to that kinda punishment, so he was content with hovering around mid-court, toward one sideline, and making his calls from there.

Once in a while, he’d make a controversial call and one of the kids would get a little mouthy. Rob would take hold of his jacket and open it a bit, revealing his Sig Sauer weapon, and that would most often diffuse the tension into laughter.

After the games, Rob would open his trunk and pull out an ice chest filled with soft drinks and a box full of snacks, all paid for by him, and he and the kids would sit around and talk about sports.

The group dispersed around 10 pm and after Rob cleaned up a bit, he opted to head over to Mollies for a drink or two and some conversation.

The bar had a fair amount of people in it for a small-town dive, but the music was good and Rob was looking forward to shooting a wild turkey or two. He checked his watch and saw that he had less than ten minutes until he was officially off the clock.

He was a stickler about that, and paused, not going to the bar yet, but instead just leaning against the wall, ready to close his eyes for a moment.

Movement caught his attention. You can never let it rest, never leave Afghan, he thought to himself as he zeroed in on a chestnut brown-haired woman at the jukebox. She looked dowdy from a distance, with baggy clothes, almost a hobo look. But it wasn’t her that got his trouble antenna raised. No, it was Levi, son of Billy Goat, a fellow Afghan soldier, though quite a bit younger. He looked drunk and looked like he was trying to converse, unsuccessfully, with the hobo. Then he saw Levi reach for her arm and that sprung him into motion.

Reaching around Levi’s chest, he took hold of the younger and somewhat smaller man, pulling him back gently but firmly as he spoke to him.

“Hey there Levi!” He saw the young man turn, a scowl starting on his face until he recognized the Sheriff. “Looks like you have had a few too many tonight.” As he was talking, he moved gracefully, both his military and martial arts training spot on, positioning himself between the inebriated soldier and his female quarry.

Gently, he told himself, divert and deflect, do not push.

“Coop! Hey man, how ya’ doing’? Bro! This is Bobbie Soxx! I’m serious, right here!”

Coop briefly looked toward the woman, still keeping his body mostly positioned between the two, and keeping Levi in his peripheral vision. He was surprised. This was no hobo. This was an attractive woman dressing way, way down, almost in disguise. He nodded, then turned his attention back to Levi.

“That’s good to know.” His mind was processing data quickly now. “Now why don’t we leave the lady alone, and see about getting you home?”

With one hand around his back, and another holding his arm, Rob assisted Levi in getting back onto his bar stool. He motioned to the bartender and said a few words and the bartender picked up the phone and started dialing. Rob made the “pour some coffee” motion with his hand as he pointed to the pot and the bartender took the hint.