“Well, I didn’t tell them nothing else.”
“Good. And who else have they talked to?”
“They said they was gonna talk to Doc, and to Dude Miller.”
“Miller,” Conners said, nodding. “We know what he’ll tell them.”
“What should I do?”
“Just go back to town and keep an eye on them, Sheriff,” Conners said, clapping the man on the back. “That’s all you have to do—for now.”
Chapter Eight
As Sam and Evan McCall entered the small Bank of Vengeance Creek the bank president, James Boland, stood up behind his desk, but did not come around. He fidgeted from one foot to the other as the two brothers approached his desk.
“You the bank president?” Sam asked.
“That’s right,” Boland said. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
There was only one other person in the bank, a bored-looking clerk standing behind a caged window.
“We’re the sons of Joshua and Miriam McCall.”
“I see. Terrible thing. You have my sympathy.”
“Thank you,” Evan said. “We’re here to see if our parents left any unsettled accounts behind. If so, we’d like to settle them.”
“Unsettled accounts?” the bank president said. “No, no unsettled accounts.”
“You know that without looking it up?” Sam asked.
“Oh, yes, yes indeed,” Boland said. “I am, after all, the president of the bank. I look at every account personally.”
“I see,” Evan said. “What about the house they were living in?”
“It was theirs.”
“Theirs?”
“Yes, they owned it outright. I believe it was included in the sale of their ranch.”
Evan looked at Sam, who shrugged.
“All right,” Evan said. “What about the estate? Did my father have a lawyer in town?”
“No, no lawyer,” Mr. Boland said, “and there was no estate.”
“What do you mean, no estate?” Sam asked. “What about the money from the sale of the ranch?”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Boland said. “All I can tell you is that there is no estate.”
“Did my father have an account here?”
“He did,” Boland said, “and he still does, but it’s empty.”
“Empty?”
“Completely.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to tell you, uh, sir.”
“It’s all right,” Evan said, cutting Sam off. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As Sam and Evan McCall left, John Boland sat down heavily behind his desk and heaved a sigh of relief.
Outside Sam said, “What the hell—”
“Let’s go to the courthouse and check on the sale,”
Evan said. “I don’t like the way this smells.”
They stopped at the courthouse next and told the clerk they wanted to look at some sale records.
“Which one?”
“The McCall ranch.”
“When was the sale completed?” the man asked.
Evan was about to answer when Sam reached past him and grabbed the front of the clerk’s shirt. He jerked him forward across the counter so hard that his wire-framed glasses fell off.
“Look,” Sam said, “Lincoln Burkett bought the property. I’m sure you know where all the records of Burkett’s purchases are.”
“Oh, Mr. Burkett?” the clerk said. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m saying so now.”
“Of course,” the man said, “I’ll get it for you.”
Sam released the man, who grabbed for his glasses and backed away from them.
“Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be too patient,” Sam said.
“I guess not.”
“First Doc acts like he doesn’t know nothin’, and then the bank president acts like he knows everythin’,” Sam said. “I didn’t feel like playin’ games with this one.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Sam.”
“Good.”
The clerk returned with a large book with a black hard cover.
“All sales are recorded here.”
“Thanks,” Evan said. He took the book and reversed it so he could read it.
“What?” Evan said suddenly.
“What is it?”
“Wait.”
Evan read the book again, and then closed it, shaking his head. He pushed it across to the clerk and said, “Thanks.” He turned to Sam and said, “Let’s go outside, Sam.”
They walked outside and Sam stopped and put his hand on his brother’s arm.
“Well?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“The conditions of the sale.”
“Are you gonna make me drag it out of you?”
“Sam,” Evan said, “according to the records, the condition of the deal was an even swap.”
“A swap? Of what?”
“The ranch for the house they…they died in.”
Sam started to say something, then stopped and put his hands on his hips. He stared at the sky for a few moments before speaking.
“Let’s get Jubal,” Sam said. “I think it’s time to take a look at the house.”
Before leaving the Miller house Sam made sure Dude Miller had a gun by his bed.
“What about Serena?” Miller asked.
“She’s gonna show us where the house is,” Sam said, “and the markers.”
They went to the livery for their horses, rented one for Serena—who insisted she’d rather ride than take a buggy—and rode out to the adobe house where their parents had died.
“We can go to the markers first,” Serena said after they’d ridden a couple of miles. “They’re not right near the house.”
“All right?” Evan said to Sam.
After a moment Sam said, “All right.”
She lead them to the grave markers, which were about a half mile from the house. They were plain wooden markers on which someone had scrawled their names. Obviously whoever had done it did not know their birth- dates, so only the dates of their deaths were recorded.
Evan and Jubal dismounted and walked to the markers. Serena remained mounted and stared at Sam, who did the same.
