Chapter 4
Grizz
Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman was having what he liked to call "a crisis of professional confidence," which was a fancy way of saying he was madder than a wet cat in a washing machine and trying to figure out how Sheriff Cottonmouth had managed to convince him that a convoy of truckers was somehow a threat to public safety.
The phone call had come in an hour ago, all urgent tones and federal implications that made Grizz feel like he was part of something bigger than traffic tickets and bar fights.
"Smokie." he bellowed from behind his desk, which groaned under the weight of his considerable frame and a stack of incident reports. "Get your scrawny ass in here and bring that cotton-stuffed husband of yours."
Deputy Smokie Lawman appeared in the doorway within seconds, clutching Mr. Snuggles to his chest like the teddy bear might provide protection from his father's legendary temper.
The bear was wearing a tiny sheriff's hat today, complete with a miniature badge that Smokie had crafted from a bottle cap and some gold paint.
"Yes, Daddy?" Smokie's voice carried the nervous quality it always had when Grizz was in what the department called "full grizzly mode."
"Boy, sit yourself down. We got ourselves a situation." Grizz gestured at the chair across from his desk. "Sheriff Cottonmouth just called with intelligence about a convoy of criminals using our highways for illegal transportation operations."
Smokie settled into the chair, adjusting Mr. Snuggles so the bear could "see" properly. "What kind of illegal operations, Daddy?"
"The sophisticated kind, son. Professional smuggling ring masquerading as legitimate truckers." Grizz pulled out his notebook, flipping through pages with theatrical authority. "According to Sheriff Cottonmouth, they're running contraband under the cover of medical supply deliveries."
"Mr. Snuggles wants to know what kind of contraband," Smokie said, holding the bear up to his ear.
"Well, that's the clever part of their operation, boy.
They disguise drugs and weapons as medical supplies, see?
Sheriff Cottonmouth says it's one of the most sophisticated smuggling schemes he's ever encountered.
" Grizz leaned back in his chair, which protested under his weight.
"Man's got federal contacts tracking this ring across three states. "
Smokie frowned, hugging Mr. Snuggles tighter. "But Daddy, what if they really are just delivering medicine to folks who need it?"
"Son, that's exactly what they want you to think." Grizz stood up and began pacing, his boots thundering on the linoleum floor. "Sheriff Cottonmouth explained the whole setup to me. These criminals use fake medical emergencies as cover for their smuggling operations. Real professional stuff."
"What kind of fake emergencies?" Smokie asked innocently.
Grizz consulted his notes again. "Well, they claim to be delivering insulin to some werewolf community, but Sheriff Cottonmouth says werewolves don't actually need special insulin. It's just regular insulin they're using to hide cocaine shipments."
"Mr. Snuggles thinks werewolves might have different medical needs than regular folks, Daddy."
"Mr. Snuggles thinks a lot of things, but he ain't got a medical degree or federal intelligence sources.
" Grizz's voice carried the tone he used when explaining basic police work to civilians.
"Sheriff Cottonmouth's been working with specialists who know all about supernatural biology, and they confirmed it's a scam. "
Smokie looked down at Mr. Snuggles, then back at his father. "But what if the specialists are wrong?"
"Wrong? Boy, these are federal specialists with security clearances and everything.
You think Sheriff Cottonmouth would risk his reputation working with amateurs?
" Grizz stopped pacing to fix his son with a stern look.
"That dragon didn't get where he is by falling for every sob story some criminal truckers cooked up. "
"Yes sir, but Mr. Snuggles read an article about supernatural medical discrimination, and—"
"Mr. Snuggles read an article?" Grizz's voice reached volumes that made the coffee maker in the break room stop percolating. "Son, that bear can't read. He's made of polyester and button eyes."
"Mr. Snuggles is very well-informed, Daddy. He keeps up with current events."
"What he keeps up with is whatever fool notions you stuff into that cotton-filled head of his." Grizz threw his hands up in frustration. "And right now, I need you focused on supporting a legitimate federal investigation, not playing library time with your stuffed animal husband."
Smokie's eyes filled with tears. "Mr. Snuggles isn't just a stuffed animal, Daddy. He's my legally married spouse with valid opinions about law enforcement overreach."
"Your legally married—" Grizz stopped himself before his blood pressure reached dangerous levels.
"Son, Sheriff Cottonmouth specifically chose the Fairweather County Sheriff's Department for this operation because of our reputation for results.
You think I'm gonna let him down because my deputy's teddy bear husband has concerns about federal policy? "
"No sir." Smokie wiped his nose on his sleeve. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to coordinate with every law enforcement agency between here and the Colorado border.
Set up roadblocks, checkpoints, and whatever else it takes to intercept this convoy before they can complete their smuggling run.
" Grizz grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head.
"Sheriff Cottonmouth is counting on us to prove that small-town law enforcement can handle big-city crime. "
"Where are you going, Daddy?"
"I'm going to personally oversee the roadblock operation.
Show these professional smugglers that Sheriff Grizzley T.
Lawman don't tolerate organized crime in his jurisdiction.
" Grizz stomped toward the door, pausing to point an accusatory finger at the teddy bear.
"And you tell Mr. Snuggles that if he's got concerns about federal operations, he can take them up with Homeland Security. "
As Grizz stormed out of the office, Smokie held Mr. Snuggles up and whispered, "Don't mind Daddy, Mr. Snuggles. He gets excited when important sheriffs make him feel special. But something about this whole thing doesn't smell right."
Smokie looked down at the teddy bear's button eyes, which seemed to regard him with patient skepticism.
"You're absolutely right, Mr. Snuggles. If these truckers are really smuggling drugs disguised as medical supplies, why didn't Sheriff Cottonmouth just intercept the shipment himself? Why does he need Daddy's help to stop some truckers in his own jurisdiction?"
Outside, Grizz was climbing into his patrol car with the grim determination of a man who'd been personally recruited for a federal operation. He had a reputation to maintain, a fellow sheriff to support, and a convoy of sophisticated smugglers to stop.
The fact that his son's stuffed animal husband was asking better questions than most federal agents was completely irrelevant.
After all, what did a teddy bear know about the complexities of interstate smuggling operations?