As Agent Harris and Blustunn drove off, I watched them go for a few moments before returning inside the station. The three Pit Bull gang members would be tried in Illinois, which meant I would only be able to follow that trial on the news. But Beauregard's trial would be held in Montana, and according to the two Federal Agents, in a federal court in Helena, the state capital. That trial might be close enough to attend if transport could be arranged, though I didn't know how much testimony the judge would want to hear from me or not. They might require some testimony from just about everyone involved in Beauregard's arrest, with the obvious exception of Officer Barnes who was still at the Kalispell hospital.
As I went back inside the station, I felt that the trial would be a fitting end to the man. He had spread so much hate because Molly wouldn't do what he demanded of her. Because Molly and I didn't prove his crazy ideas right by acting like a mundane tiger would, which would have put our relationship in jeopardy. Tigers in nature are usually only together during the mating season, and the male plays no role in raising his own offspring... and outside the mating season, male tigers are dangerous rivals to females and cubs. I had learned that there had been some astonishing feats of cooperation between tigers. Two males bringing down an elephant... and a host of tigers, male, females, and cubs sharing a kill... but these occurrences were rare.
The thought of that made me shiver. The last thing I wanted to lose was Molly. I loved her as much as life itself. And to me, that was more then enough to prove Beauregard's crazy racial/species theories wrong.
Once back in the station, I reported to Officer Howard. I knocked on his office door and waited for him to call me in.
"Enter," came Officer Howard's voice from inside his office.
"The gang members are on their way to Illinois for trial, sir," I reported to him as I entered, "the Federal Agents just took them."
"Good," Officer Howard nodded, "that means we'll be able to start getting back "normal" around here."
"Of course, sir," I answered.
Officer Howard then pulled a small cardboard box out from one of his desk drawers.
"The Kalispell hospital has returned to us the official police gear that was on Officer Barnes when Beauregard shot him," Officer Howard spoke, "his gun, his cuffs, and his walkie talkie... He should still have his badge with him, and they had to cut up everything but his trousers when it came to the uniform."
"I see, sir," I nodded respectfully, "when did all of this arrive?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Officer Howard replied, "I'm going to give you the walkie-talkie. It'll keep you in touch with dispatch while you're on patrol..."
"Patrol, sir?" I asked, "most of the problems Officer Barnes and I had dealt with have been traffic violations... speeding and stuff like that. And at my size... I can't drive a vehicle, sir... I don't know how affective I'll be on foot."
"Don't worry about stuff like that," Officer Howard spoke, "for the moment, most of our other on duty officers are on those calls. You'll probably end up with smaller calls that might come in... and occasionally the schools ask for us to send an officer by for their career days to tell them about what it's like being a policeman. And until Officer Barnes returns, those will be the calls you go on... after all... I can't have you on desk duty for a month straight."
He then handed me the walkie talkie system, which consisted of a transmitter and battery pack connected to the speaker/receiving device.
"Thank you, sir," I spoke.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Patrolling on foot wasn't too bad. Things were quiet and I got to enjoy some of the town's scenery in way I never had before. Of course we hadn't gotten close to spring yet, so there was still a lot of snow on the ground and the air temperature was still very cool.
I had started north from the station when a call came in through the walkie-talkie, which was now in my right shirt pocket.
"Officer Wayne, come in," came the dispatch officer's voice over the walkie talkie, "Come in, please."
"Officer Wayne, here, what's going on?" I asked.
"We have a minor public disturbance we'd like you to investigate," the dispatch officer answered and gave me the address.
"Do they know what the exact actions are?" I asked as I began to walk toward that address, which appeared to be near the town's business district. Almost at the office of the Realtor who tried to jack up the price of every home in the area that was for sale and only offered Molly and I rental homes and moderate rates... with the landlord reserving the right to kick us out whenever he wanted to.
"The caller reports hearing a lot of frustrated yelling and banging," the dispatch officer replied, "like the guy's attacking a dumpster."
I slowly nodded, even though the dispatch officer was unable to see that.
"I'm on my way," I answered and continued on.
There was still a lot of ruckus going on when I arrived in the area. I could hear frustrated yells, though is was more of a "yeaaarrrgghhhh" type grunt rather then someone screaming understandable words. The sounds of wood being broken and loud banging against something like a dumpster was also audible to my ears. I zeroed in on the sound of the noise and ended up taking an alley that went behind the Realtor's office. There I found a man smashing up signs, boards on which the signs went, and kicking a garbage dumpster as he did so. Near to where he going through all of this was an open door to a small office supply store that likely sold to everyone the printing paper, pens, pencils, and other things people would need.
"All right, fella, that's enough of that," I spoke as I came closer to him.
The man stopped almost immediately and looked up. When he saw me, he seemed to instinctively back away, but he didn't go far.
"Now, what is all this?" I asked once he stopped.
"Just taking out the trash, officer," the man answered, "no crime in that."
"Not in throwing things away, no," I nodded, "however, your screaming and kicking that dumpster has alarmed people."
"Well... wouldn't you if you did something you'd thought you'd save your family..." the man spoke, "and then realize that the person who had offered to help you and royally screwed you over?"
I could detect some mild nervousness and frustration still in his voice. The man wasn't causing any trouble as far as I could really see, but I couldn't let him continue with the man versus dumpster combat. Looking for some clue as to why this guy was doing what he was doing, I glanced into the dumpster. In it were several smashed and torn signs that had the various R.A.M. slogans on them.
"You're a R.A.M. member," I spoke.
"Was," the man grumbled actually, "Beauregard told us all that you and your wife were vile and hyper aggressive predators that were biding your time to eat our pets, our livestock, our children, even us..."
"Sir, if Molly and I were mindless beasts, you would have seen human fatalities a long time ago," I answered.
"He said you were smart, that you both had it planned out to wait until our guard came down," the man said back, "and now... now... now I find out that the man who promised to keep us all safe with his little movement stole our money for himself, got Ebenezer Smith and his son sent to prison, and has now shot an officer of the law... he did more to harm us then anything he said you and Molly would do... You can understand that I am frustrated."
"And you've been taking it out on this dumpster?" I asked.
"The guy I want to punch is already in jail," the man answered, "he promised to keep us safe... now it's clear that he only formed the group to get our money... which I'll never get back... and I'm starting to think there never was any danger."
"There never was," I answered, "Molly and I are earning enough to buy meat and as long we have a deer season, there are white-tails, mule deer, and elk to catch we have a prey source that everyone else hunts."
The man looked nervously back toward his door.
"All the same you can't go around raising the racket that you are. Beauregard screwed a lot of people over to satisfy his hatred of my wife and I," I continued, "but that is no excuse to pick a fight with a dumpster and scare all of your neighbors. You've gotten rid of the signs, that is all you need to do."
"Okay," he then said slowly.
I then turned to leave when I heard him ask a question.
"Aren't you going to fine me or something?" he asked.
"All you are doing is worth the warning I gave you," I told him, "and the Federal Court might make Beauregard pay all the R.A.M. members he had swindled back."
"Okay," the man nodded and disappeared back into his shop.
I then made my way back onto the street. This was something that was somewhat expected. Beauregard had been R.A.M.'s leader and its most vocal voice against Molly and I. But as the details of his arrest came out, including the fact that he took the donations to the organization and pocketed it himself, the organization was beginning to fall apart. There would probably be some people that clung to some sort of R.A.M.-like agenda, but for the most part, most of its members were probably good people who were easily frightened and suckered into the organization. And with Beauregard "gone", those people were now leaving the organization fairly quickly.
As I continued my foot patrol, I contacted the station.
"It was a former R.A.M. member throwing away the signs Beauregard had him made," I reported, "frustrated that he'd been suckered."
"No one was in danger?"
"No one was in danger," I replied, "all the situation deserved was a "warning"."