Unbury Carol(73)

Dwight was at the helm of the family’s curtained coach, the gray steeds moving strong and steady. The cardinals sang as he snapped the reins.

Then, enough light, the right angle, and Dwight saw it was the sheriff.

Carol was still in the coach.

There may come a convergence, Lafayette had said, where what you’re doing crosses paths with the inquisitive law. And when it does…you are a grieving man and nothing more.

Dwight, trembling, suddenly cold, saw Lafayette’s wrinkled face in his mind’s eye; saw her ponytail swinging with the winds of always being right.

Dwight gripped the reins and told himself, You are a grieving man and nothing more, a grieving man and nothing more, a grieving man…

But the words were slippery, difficult to hold.

Evening was at hand and Opal sat patiently on his still horse. Dwight slowed the coach down a pace and ran a hand through his hair, matting it down as best he could. The shadows of the overhanging willows played tricks with the shape, but there was no questioning the stance of a lawman armed with questions.

Despite the nerves, Dwight had rehearsed this moment many times.

He slowed the coach gracefully to a stop beside the waiting sheriff.

“Evening, Sheriff Opal.”

“Dwight Evers,” Opal said, tipping his hat. “What luck I’ve had.”

“Were you looking for me? Out here on the Trail?”

“Indeed I was. Done exhausted all the finer restaurants already.”

Dwight smiled. “You flatter me, Opal. Nor do you know me that well. I’ve been eating beef brisket all my life.”

Opal smiled, too. “You mind coming down from up there so’s you and I can have a little chat?”

Dwight set the reins upon the black cushion and climbed down. Opal dismounted at the same time and the men faced each other at the northernmost tip of the Trail.

“What is it that has you searching Harrows for its newest widower, Sheriff?”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? I have some questions about the passing of your wife.”

Dwight feigned surprise. “Is that right? Go on, then. I should like to know what mystery beguiles you.”

Opal removed his hat and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “I understand you must be broken up and I’d like to apologize in advance for anything I say that might offend.”

“Go ahead, Sheriff. I’m a man as much as any. Surely I can assist the law no matter what spell of grief I may be under.”

“That’s fine. Very nice. I’d like to know what it is your wife died of.”

Dwight breathed deep. “I’m not sure. The doctor told me it was a combination of things. A weak heart it seems.”

“And which doctor was this?”

“This was my good friend Alexander Wolfe.”

“Wolfe. I don’t recognize the name. Where does Doctor Wolfe usually practice?”

“In Charles. Alexander and I go far back. I used to visit him when he was still in medical school.”

“Is that right?”

“That it is.”

“Well, the reason I ask, and don’t go thinking me jumping to any conclusions here, is because Alexander Wolfe didn’t show up in any registry I could get my hands on and I’m concerned maybe he isn’t the best man to tell you how it happened.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know the name of the doctor I brought her to?”

“I misspoke.”

Silence. Momentary.

“You looked him up?” Dwight asked.

Opal nodded.

“That sounds something like you’re checking up on me, Sheriff Opal.”

“Does it?”

“I’d say so.”

“Well?”

Dwight tried to look confused. “Well what, Sheriff?”

“Can you tell me why Wolfe isn’t listed?”

Dwight brought a hand to his chin and feigned consideration. “No, I don’t think I can. Unless he’s pulled one over on half of Charles and his good friends like me. Alexander Wolfe is a recommended specialist. I’ve known him since he was back in medical school.”

Opal studied Dwight’s face. The way the man’s lips moved. His darting eyes.

“You said as much. But a doctor you personally thought capable of determining the cause of your wife’s passing, surely such a man is registered. Official, as they say.”

“I’m not sure I agree with you there. My being his friend might have kept me ignorant of any lack of credentials. But I’m not concerned with that. I believe in Alexander Wolfe.”

“If I ride on out to Charles I’m bound to find the man myself?”

“Well, of course.”

“I just might do as much. Maybe he can tell me himself why I’m having the trouble I am verifying him.”

“May I ask what the need is?”

“Well, a lady passes in my town and I like to know the reason. Maybe it was something she drank. Maybe it was in the beef. A man in my line of work doesn’t love unverifiable ends.”

“No, I imagine you wouldn’t. But I’m telling you I know the man and saw him check my wife myself.”

“I understand all that. Just want to make sure you were with the best man for the job.”