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Bill Fleetwood

The small town cop sworn to defend our titular small town

0 · 140 views · located in The Sheriff's Station

a character in “The Wichita Falls Murders”, as played by AgathaBenson


Full Name: Bill Jacob Fleetwood
Age: 53
Hair: Brown, cut short, and graying
Eyes: Brown
Occupation: He's been the Wichita Falls Sheriff for about 24 years now. Before that he worked as a deputy in the same station
Personality: Though he outwardly appears gruff and blunt, Bill is a genuinely kind man, a central figure in the community, and a friend to just about everyone in town.

He is trustworthy, determined, and unwavering in his beliefs
Family & Romance: For years, Bill's one true family member was his wife, Peggy. They had been sweethearts ever since they were kids whose parents worked

neighboring farms. Throughout Bill's life, Peggy was his one constant. After his father died in Vietnam and his mother sank into a deep depression, Peggy was always

by Bill's side, even when his other friends abandoned him. Unfortunately, they were able to enjoy only six years of wedded bliss before Peggy died in a car accident.

Bill was driving the car when it skidded on ice and barreled into the side of a telephone pole. He has a limp in his left leg to this well as a heaping helping of

guilt over Peg's death. He seems to have recovered mostly now, but those that have known him a while can tell he is still troubled by that long ago tragedy.

A Bit of (Extra) History: After Peggy's death, Bill dove right to the bottle. At that time he was working as a deputy under the then-sheriff, Bryant Greyburn, who

threatened to fire him if he didn't shape up. (Bill was kind of a violent drunk, which doesn't help if you're in law enforcement) So, with Bryant's help, Bill worked to

kick his habit, and eventually earned enough respect in the Sheriff's department that the people of Wichita Falls voting overwhelmingly for him in the sheriff elections,

after Bryant retired. Bill has learned to love his job, as dull as it usually is, as it helps him connect with people in a way he didn't for years after Peggy died. Still, he

can be quite the hardass when it comes to crime on his turf...especially if you violate traffic laws.

So begins...

Bill Fleetwood's Story

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Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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It was Sheriff Fleetwood's custom to arrive at work early, and he detested the feeling of being late. It was something impressed upon him when he was a deputy... Grimacing as he sipped from his mug of dishwater based coffee (the station didn't have the budget to upgrade appliances), he settled down at his desk and glanced sparingly over the front page of today's 'Gazette'.

"Hmph." he grunted dismissively. Just more news on the upcoming centennial celebrations. It was an improvement over yesterday's story, at least, which had reported on a tennis shoe found a few miles from the Refrigeration Plant. They'd made it sound like the freaking crime of the century...not that his deputies didn't treat it as such as well.

Speaking of which...the radio on his desk buzzed to life, crackled like a campfire for a good three minutes, and then emitted the distorted voice of Deputy Corville one of his more...eager associates.

"Sheriff! Sheriff Fleetwood! Are you there..."

"Yes, Jim, I'm here," said Bill into the radio, wishing he weren't, "What is it?"

"We've got reports of an incident down by the interstate."

"Oh?" He didn't see what problem that was of his department. Besides, he was almost certain the highway police made more in a month than he made in a year.

"Yeah, we got a few calls from drivers on the road. Said some car drove the width of the whole highway to get to our exit."

Bill raised his eyebrows, "Anyone hurt?"

"No, but apparently a bunch of people were late to work because of it."

Bill shifted tiredly in his seat, "Got a license plate?"


"No, then. Alright. They'll have to be ticketed."

"Of course, Sheriff, I'm right..."

"Never you mind, Jim, I'm on it." Bill was already getting up.

"But Sheriff..."

"It's fine, Jim." he tuned the radio out, put on his jacket, and got the keys to his truck. Better he go and confront the anonymous reckless driver than his upstart deputy. The exit ramp was dangerous enough already in the frosty season... It had to be some kind of lunatic who would do anything like that behind the wheel.

Uncomfortably he thought of his own past experiences on that ramp, but just as quickly shook the thought away. Self-consciously holding his hand to his bad leg, he limped steadily out of the station and toward his truck.

[OOC: Just a note to everyone: Deputy Corville is just some random one-shot character that any of you can control as you need. Just to avoid confusion.;) ]

The setting changes from the-sheriffs-station to Wichita Falls, Oklahoma

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kim Austin Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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"What about ghost-alien-vampires?" said Kim, snorting in an unseemly fashion, "Like, you know the ghosts of aliens who suck blood?" She couldn't help thinking how absolutely wasted she must sound. This drive was much too long, and her eyes kept forcing themselves shut.

"I am so tired." she said at last, "But look, if you really, really squint, you can kind of see the tops of some houses. And it looks like the sunrise is finally starting."

It was, thin rays of pale purple dawn light creeping in through the east-facing windows of the car and shocking Kim with their brightness.

"Crap, I can't see." she fumbled for the drop down sun-screen over the steering wheel, remembering very well her mother's warnings not to ever touch it when she was driving. But she needed some way to block out the sun, or else they'd crash anyway.
It wasn't very difficult for Bill to figure out where the interstate-havoc car was. The gray van was the only car he'd seen on the road since he'd started out in his truck, and it seemed to be driving very erratically indeed.

Bill sighed. It wouldn't be the first time he'd have to deal with some drunk farmer who'd been out to late. But he didn't recognize the car...

He didn't have much more time to reflect on this, however, as he realized the car was in the wrong lane, coming right toward him.

Swearing loudly, Bill pressed on the horn with bodily force, swerving around the car, and braking as efficiently as he could on the side of the road.
Kim managed to get the sunshade down just in time to see a very large pick-up truck coming right toward her.

"Jesus!" she screeched, stepping as hard as she could onto the brake and then frantically looking around at the others, "Oh my God, is everyone okay?" Suddenly she wasn't feeling so tired, "Christ...I didn't even..."

She heard the slam of a car door. The driver of the truck had pulled up just behind them and was now approaching them, looking like he meant serious business. In the bright light, Kim could plainly see the badge on his jacket.

"Oh crap, it's the cops."

The setting changes from wichita-falls-oklahoma to The Road


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kim Austin Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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Bill crossed to the van in three quick strides, glowering as mightily as he could manage. He wasn't sure if the blame should rest entirely on the people in the van, had been year's since they'd touched up the road, and the line dividing the two lanes was almost invisible most of the time. Complain to the state all he wanted, they were never going to do anything about it.

With horror, Kim noticed the cop approaching them was limping. Barely registering Charlie's comment, she said, "Oh God, I think we hurt him! Crap, I need my I.D..."

She reached at once for her book bag, which was wedged down beneath the seat, next to a duffel bag full of extra lens caps.

Bill was not surprised to find that the passengers of the vehicle were all kids... well, young people who might as well have been kids. No apparent injuries were visible, so that was good.

"Ma'am, is this your car?" he addressed the woman in the driver's seat, who was currently rifling through a bag at her feet.

"Oh! Um..." Kim looked around frantically, "Yes. Um...well, actually it's on loan from my...from our school..." she beamed at the cop and gestured to her friends, "We're coming down here for a school project. College," she added the last word quickly, lest he think they were high school teenagers who'd stolen a car or something, "College project. University."

Bill looked at each of the passengers individually, "I'll need to see some I.D." He was ready to believe there wasn't any.

"I.D!" gasped Kim, "Yes, of course..." she looked urgently at Charlie and whispered, "Distract him. I think my wallet got stuck under the brake pedal." Which would explain an awful lot.

"I'll be just a second!" she hastily told the cop before digging back into her bag.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kim Austin Character Portrait: Gerard Poller Character Portrait: Monroe Lorren Character Portrait: Charlotte Calloway Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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Charlotte Calloway

"Distract him. I think my wallet got stuck under the brake pedal."

"What?" Charlie asks incredulously, "Oh Jesus, fine." She whispers hastily, moving to roll down the backseat window and peering out at the cop. "Excuse me sir," She says to the cop, flashing her most concerned look at him.

"Are you all right?" She asks, referring to the limp. "It would be horrible if you were hurt because of us, I would just feel so guilty about it." She rambles on, a complete and utter lie but hopefully the cop didn't notice this. Charlie wouldn't be surprised if he did believe her though, she had often used this sort of tactic when she was younger to get her way.

"We should have been more careful, I just can't believe this!" Charlie puts a hand to her face, attempting a more guilty face, simply just trying to buy Kim some time now. "I promise we never meant for this to happen." That was probably laying it on a little thick and Charlie had to bite back a wince as her voice faltered. Maybe she wasn't as good at this as she was when she was younger.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kim Austin Character Portrait: Charlotte Calloway Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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Bill had to admit, he was impressed. No one had ever feigned concern for him to get out of a questioning before. He smiled despite himself at the blonde girl, "No need to worry about that, ma'am, I've had this limp for a while."

Involuntarily he glanced up the road a bit, to where the path curved sharply to the right to make way for a row of telephone poles. If you looked closely at one of them, the third down from where they were standing, you might still see the groove marks from when he'd run his own car into the damn thing.

"I don't suppose you're the same car that cut across the interstate earlier and almost caused a major accident?" he asked, already knowing the answer was yes, "That's why I was coming down here in the first place."

"Oh...yeah, that was me." said Kim sheepishly, at last wresting her wallet from its prison (she noted with distaste that there seemed to be a wad of gum stuck to it now), "It's not their fault at all... You see, we'd been driving since yesterday afternoon, and we only stopped Kansas, I think." she took her driver's license from her wallet and handed it to the cop, smiling, "I hope no one was hurt." She really hoped no one was hurt. Her mom was a retired cop...she'd give her hell when she heard about this.

Bill examined the I.D caustically, "Kim Austin, age 23, from Chicago Illinois."

"Yeah, that's me." Kim realized she'd had her hair grown out since then, so the resemblance in the picture might not be as good.

"Alright, fine." Bill handed the license back to her, "And no, no one was hurt. Take this as a warning, alright? We might be a small town, but that just makes driving that much more dangerous."

"'re not arresting us?"

Bill shrugged, "I could, maybe I should. But no one did get hurt, and apparently you're down here for school." He'd heard a bit of gossip in town about some yuppie film students coming down to shoot a documentary about the old Shermen house. Not a very flattering depiction of modern-day Wichita Falls, to be sure, but at least it would boost the town's economy slightly in the midst of the centennial.

"Just take care in the future," he warned firmly, "I won't be so lenient next time."

"Thank you!" Kim could have run out of the car and hugged the grizzled old man right on the spot, "Thanks so much, officer, I promise it won't happen again."

"I'll hold you to that," Bill turned to go, but decided it was best he tell them one more thing, "And it's not 'officer', it's 'Sheriff'. Sheriff Fleetwood. Town's right up ahead."

He started for his truck again, saying as he went, "Enjoy your stay!"

Once he was gone, Kim breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh my God, that was the Sheriff! I didn't even know they still had Sheriffs! Oh my God..." she grinned at the others, "See, that wasn't so bad. They're nicer in these little towns, good ole' Americana and all that."

She put the car back into gear and set off, first putting the sunshade back up, just in case.

The setting changes from the-road to The Sheriff's Station

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Character Portrait: Bill Fleetwood
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The station was quiet when Bill arrived from his little meeting with the college students. There was a faint smell of burning coming from the kitchen, and Bill remembered with mild horror that he had forgotten to turn off the coffee machine.

"Aw, dammit." he muttered, crossing over to unplug the old, crippled pot, which was now smoking like Vesuvius. He'd have to wash it heavy duty in the sink...or get Jim, or one of the other eager-to-please deputies to do it.

He cast a cursory glance at the clock on the wall. 6:30, on the dot. So far it had been very eventful for a Monday morning which, according to Bill's years of small town police experience, meant the rest of the day would be as dull as dishwater.

"Sheriff Fleetwood!" Jim Corville, a big-eyed, boyish upstart who fancied himself the next Jack Bauer just because he had a badge, strode into the station like he owned the place, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, "Did you find out what the trouble was on the exit ramp..."

"It wasn't trouble at all, Jim." said Bill dismissively, "But thanks for telling me about it." That little acknowledgement of praise would keep Corville in a state of euphoria for a week, he knew.

"Is there anything else I can..."

"Yeah, actually there is," Bill stood up, gesturing to the coffee pot on the counter, "Clean that out, will ya? And watch the phone, see if there are any calls."

"Where are you going?"

"Out." Bill was out the door before Corville could do anything else about it.

As he got back into his truck and started it up, Bill reflected that he had probably not been the best sort of "superior officer" just now, but quickly silenced the reprimand.

His little adventure on the road had made him restless, and he didn't relish the idea of sitting absently at his desk all day, listening to that infernal clock ticking. So he pulled out of the driveway and started off down Main Street, not knowing where he intended to go, but knowing it was better than what he usually did at 6:30 Monday morning.