“That’s right.” Kelly walked across the room to the coffee pot. “Did you leave me any?”
“There’s plenty,” Sam said. He drained his cup and said, “Here.”
Kelly looked at Sam, then took the cup, cleaned it out with a rag, and poured some coffee. That done, he carried it to his desk and sat down.
“What can I do for you gents?”
“We’re the sons of Joshua and Miriam McCall,” Evan said.
“The McCalls,” Kelly said, “Of course. A sad thing, that.”
The sheriff looked them over, then directed his attentionto Sam, looking him over, fastening his eyes for a moment on the .44 on Sam’s hip.
“That would make you Sam McCall.”
“Yes, it would.”
They matched stares for a few moments, and then the lawman looked at the younger McCall.
“And you?”
“Jubal.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I’m new here and I didn’t know your parents all that well.”
“Tell us what happened,” Sam said.
Kelly hesitated a moment, then said,
There was a moment of stunned silence in the room. Kelly suddenly tensed and put his coffee cup down. He lowered his right hand so that it hovered near his gun, but he knew that if Sam McCall wanted to kill him, there wouldn’t be much that he could do to stop it.
“That’s crazy.”
“It can’t be,” Jubal said.
They both looked at Sam, who hadn’t said a word yet.
“Sam?” Evan said.
Sam’s eye flicked to Evan’s and held them.
“We’ll ask around,” Sam said, “talk to the doctor.” He looked at the sheriff and asked, “Who is the doctor hereabouts now?”
“Doc Leader,” Kelly said.
“Doc Leader?” Sam said, surprised. “He’s the sawbones who delivered us—all three of us. He must be close to eighty by now.”
“That may be,” Kelly said, “but he’s the only doctor we’ve got.”
“Then we’ll talk to him,” Sam said, picking up hisbelongings. “I assume he’s the one who looked at the bodies?”
“He is.”
“And signed the death certificates?”
“Like I said,” Kelly said, “he’s the only doctor we’ve got.”
“You could have brought another one in from somewhere else.”
“We didn’t.”
Sam looked at his brothers and said, “We’ll talk to Doc Leader.”
“But Sam,” Jubal said, “Pa wouldn’t—”
“Thanks for your help, Sheriff,” Sam said, cutting Jubal off. To his brothers he said, “Let’s go.”
He went to the door, opened it and walked out. Evan and Jubal exchanged a glance, then gathered their things and went outside. Sam was standing on the boardwalk, waiting for them.
“What was that all about?” Jubal demanded.
“Take it easy.”
“Take it easy? You heard the things he was saying about Pa.”
“I heard them.”
“So?”
“There’s no point in arguing with the sheriff, Jubal,” Sam said. “He didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“How do we know that?”
“I mean, he isn’t the one who came to the conclusion.”
“He’s a sheriff.”
“But,” Evan said, “the doctor is the one who would come to the conclusion about the manner of death—isn’t that what you’re getting at, Sam?”
“That’s it.”
“Then let’s talk to Doc Leader,” Evan said.
“And after that,” Sam added, “Dude Miller. After all, it was Dude who sent the telegram.”
They walked to where they all remembered Doc Leader’s office as being, above the general store—and it was still there.
They stopped at the stairway that went up the side of the building and Sam said, “Same damned stairway.”
“How does he get up and down it every day, if he’s as old as you figured?” Evan wondered.
“Well, maybe I overstated it,” Sam said, “but he’s gotta be at least in his sixties.”
“Why are we standing down here guessing?” Jubal asked.
“Good point, little brother,” Sam said.
“Don’t call me that!” Jubal said. “I don’t like the sound of it.”
“Sure, Jube,” Sam said, “whatever you say.”
Sam felt his brother’s anger. Jubal was still fuming at having been cut off in the sheriff’s office.
They ascended the steps, not enjoying the creaking sound they made.
“When we go back down,” Evan said, “I suggest we go one at a time.”
When they reached the door Sam knocked and waited. When the door opened there was a short man in his sixties standing there, squinting up at Sam and shading his eyes against the sun with hands stained from years of nicotine.
“Still smoking, huh, Doc?” Sam asked. “For a sawbones, that ain’t exactly smart.”
“Jesus,” Leader said, “I hate that word, sawbones. What the hell are you doing here, Sam McCall?”
“We’re all here, Doc,” Sam said.
Leader leaned out to spot Evan and Jubal and said, “So you are.”
“Can we come in? We’ve got some things to talk about, haven’t we?”
Leader scowled and said, “I suppose we have. Yeah, come in, all of you.”
They entered the office and the doctor closed the door behind them. The office looked the same to Sam, with furnishings as ancient as the doctor himself.
“I suppose you’re here about Joshua and Miriam.”
“That’s right, Doc,” Sam said.
The doctor turned his head and looked directly at Jubal.
“Jubal, you’ve grown.”
Jubal said to the room at large, “Why is everyone saying that?”
“Well,” the doctor said, looking at them each in turn, “what do you want to know?”
“Doc,” Sam said, “we want to know how our Ma and Pa died.”
“I suspect you’ve already heard that from Sheriff Kelly.”
“We want to hear it from you.”
“All right,” Doc Leader said, “near as I can figure, Joshua shot Miriam, and then turned the gun on himself.”
“That’s a lie!” Jubal said.
“Easy, boy,” Sam said.
“It can’t be true, Sam,” Evan said. “Pa wouldn’t do that.”
“And when’s the last time you saw Pa, or talked to him?” Sam asked.
“Well…seven years or so—”
