A Sheriff’s Quest for Justice – Extended Epilogue

Three Years Later

“Now slow down and describe the men again,” Caleb Rothwell said to the old couple. Ezra Baker and his wife Penelope were standing side by side behind the counter of their jewelry store. Both of them were shaken; the poor woman’s hands were literally trembling.

“There were two of them,” said Ezra, the store’s proprietor.

“A fat one and a skinny one!” Penelope added.

“Yes,” Ezra agreed. “One was fair-skinned, the other more swarthy in appearance.”

“But we couldn’t see their faces well,” interjected his wife. “They were wearing kerchiefs.”

Of course, thought Caleb. As the longtime sheriff of Black Rock, he’d encountered numerous thieves and bad men over the years. All the bandits who passed through this town, he knew, were plenty smart enough to cover their faces while committing their crimes. But most of ’em aren’t smart enough to cover their tracks.

He eyed the nearest glass case sitting on the counter, which had been broken open; shards of glass from it and other cases littered the floor beneath Caleb’s feet. “What exactly did they take?” he asked the couple.

“Two sack fulls of merchandise,” replied Ezra. “Rings. Bracelets. And a good number of pocket watches. Each of the thieves carried a sack outta here.”

“As you can see, they pretty near cleaned us out,” said Penelope, suddenly misty-eyed. Reaching over, she took hold of her husband’s hand. “Sheriff, if you don’t recover that jewelry for us, we’re finished. We’ve got nothing to fall back on.”

Caleb nodded. Glancing back and forth between the two, he replied, “I’ll do my best. One more question… did you happen to see which way they were traveling when they left here?”

As he departed the jewelry store a couple minutes later, it occurred to Caleb that this was the fourth time during his reign as sheriff that the Bakers had been robbed. Need to talk to them about acquiring a gun, keeping it behind the counter, he mused as he strode, at double speed, down the boardwalk in the direction the bandits had reportedly fled.

It was possible that the culprits were already making their way out of Black Rock, but the next town was nearly a day’s ride away. Sometimes, men who’d come into means suddenly liked to find ways to immediately spend some of their newly acquired riches. Alcohol, gambling, and doves were the three best opportunities for doing that.

Caleb rode toward the best place in town for a man to quench all three desires—all at once, if he so pleased. The establishment was called the Palace, a two-story den of iniquity that offered more kinds of liquor than any other saloon in Black Rock, along with every game of chance, and doves of six different nationalities, including a couple of rare beauties from the Orient.

Pushing in through the batwings, he scanned the sprawling barroom from one end to the other. Even though it wasn’t the Palace’s prime business hours, the place was more than half full of patrons. Caleb immediately recognized the one standing at the bar’s rightmost side.

“Charlie,” he said, approaching the familiar figure from behind.

The man turned. “Sheriff Rothwell! So good to see you today. How’s that pretty wife of yours been?”

“She’s good, Charlie. Listen… I need to ask you about something. A couple shady characters who run together… one fat, one skinny. One fair-skinned, one darker. That happen to describe anyone you know?”

Charlie, who now stood completely facing the lawman, scratched his chin. “I’ve often wondered why you come talk to me first when you’re looking for shady characters.”

“Please, Charlie, just answer the question. You know these fellas?”

“Yes, I reckon I do. I haven’t seen ’em in here today, if that’s what you were hoping for.”

“What’re their names?”

“Eldon Graves, he’s the skinny one. The other one is Dan Weible. I know they’ve rustled cattle in the past. They steal some beeves from a local rancher, Sheriff?”

“Jewelry,” Caleb told him. “They robbed ol’ Ezra Baker and his wife.”

“Jewelry? That’s bold, ain’t it?”

“Are they dangerous men?”

“Weible ain’t much of a threat. Hell, I could beat him in a fair draw. But Graves… he’s someone you gotta watch out for. If he ain’t killed yet, he will someday. Word is, he’s got a real fast gun hand.”

“Where might I find Graves and Weible?”

“You might find ’em holed up with their friend. The Marler place, just west of town”

“Jack Marler is their friend?” asked Caleb, almost cringing as the man’s name left his lips. Jack Marler was a disagreeable old fool, a drunk, a card cheat who’d been banished from every gaming parlor in town, a misogynist who’d been banned from every brothel, a man who had an axe to grind with the entire world save a few close associates. “Any friend of Marler’s is worthy of hate by mere association,” he added.

“I would agree with that, Sheriff. If you’re gonna head out there, I wouldn’t go alone. But that is where you’ll most likely find Graves and Weible. Unless they’re in one of the saloons, or unless they’ve left town.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Caleb said, patting the man on the shoulder just before he spun back toward the door.

Two steps later, he heard Charlie call after him from the bar, “Tell that pretty wife of yours hello for me. Glad you married her, Sheriff Rothwell. She’s the prettiest flower in this entire county.”

***

They met at the jailhouse at the time they’d agreed upon. Sonny, Caleb’s kid brother and his only deputy, wore a familiar expression—a look of disappointment that bordered on shame.

“No luck in any of the places you searched?” Caleb said soon after entering the sheriff’s office.

Sonny shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t turn up anything. I’m guessing you didn’t, either.”

“Just what I told you before, what came from Charlie Drayden.”

“Jack Marler’s place, eh? I guess we’d better mosey on over there.”

Caleb took out his pocket watch and glanced at the face. “I’ve only got two hours till I’ve got to be home,” he said.

“I can go by myself, if you want.”

“No, you can’t. These men are dangerous—at least one of ’em is, according to Charlie. And Ol’ Man Marler can be a terror in his own right. He’s liable to take shots at us just for knocking on his door.”

“Well, then let’s not waste any more time,” Sonny said, rising from the chair he’d been sitting in.

He began to head toward the door, but Caleb said, “Wait.”

Sonny paused and watched as his big brother took the scattergun and the Winchester rifle down off the wall rack.

“Which one you want to carry?” Caleb asked him.

“It’s that serious, you think?” Sonny said. When Caleb didn’t respond right away, Sonny nodded toward the weapon in his brother’s right hand. “I’ll take the scattergun. You’re better with the rifle.”

***

“That ride took fifteen minutes,” Caleb remarked, dropping his watch back into his pocket.

“We rose as fast as we could,” Sonny said. “There’re some new ruts in the road, seems to me.”

They’d reined up at a bend in the roadway. From here, the path led directly to the front porch of one Jack Marler. The house sat roughly a hundred yards from their position. And, sure enough, they could clearly see two horses tied off on the broken-down fence that lined one side Marler’s yard.

“Those horses are saddled,” Sonny pointed out. “Likely belong to visitors.”

“I would have to agree with that assessment,” said Caleb. “Especially since, last I heard, the old man rarely leaves his house these days.”

Sonny looked over at him. “What’s our plan?”

“My usual plan, brother. I’m going to ask nicely first. If that don’t work…”

Sonny nodded, comprehending Caleb’s meaning. The two had been working side by side for the past three years. In that time, they’d learned more about one another than they’d learned during the ten-year period prior.

“If you’re planning to walk up to the door and knock,” Sonny said after a thoughtful moment, “might I suggest we swap weapons? I can cover you better from a distance with the rifle. And the scattergun will be more intimating when they see it up close.”

Caleb gave the Winchester to Sonny while his brother handed over the shotgun. “Don’t shoot anyone,” Caleb told him, “’less I signal to you.”

Sonny nodded. “Same as always,” he said. Quickly raising a finger, he asked, “What if you happen to get into trouble?”

Caleb blinked at his kid brother, but said nothing in response. After a moment, he turned in his saddle and jigged his horse forward, toward the awaiting house.

After dismounting near the front fence, Caleb tied off his mount and walked up onto the porch. Even before he’d reached the porch, he’d heard the voices from within the house. Voices… definitely the voices of men. And it sounded as if they were jubilant, celebrating. Maybe even drunk or half-drunk.

In their semi-drunken state, the men seemed to have not heard him till he reached the door and knocked on it. Suddenly, all the talking and celebrating inside the house ceased.

Caleb knew he was taking a chance walking up to Jack Marler’s front door. He’d heard stories of men getting blasted right through a door, but he doubted that it occurred often. Replacing a door wasn’t cheap. And, from what he knew, JarkMarler was very cheap.

A few more seconds passed and he reached up and knocked again.

He heard the men’s voices again, only now it sounded like they were arguing. Then, he heard footsteps, and about thirty seconds later, the door finally swung open.

It was Ol’ Man Marler in the flesh: a man of indeterminate age who wore a long gray and black beard that was so matted it looked like it was made out of stone. His eyes, which sat under a single fat bow, were bloodshot. And even though his mouth was shut at the moment, his bad breath could be detected from the other side of the threshold.

“What’d you want?” he bellowed at Caleb, raising more stink as he pushed out the words.

Caleb cleared his throat. “You have company right now, Jack?”

Jack Marler glanced at the scattergun in his hands. Then he said, “That’s none of your business, I reckon. Now, if you don’t mind.”

Stepping back, the man slammed the door behind him, but it didn’t close all the way. Caleb had stuck the toe of his boot forward, inserting it between the door and the jamb.

“I’ve got a posse surrounding the house, Jack,” Caleb said. Of course, it was a lie, but he’d stated it with enough authority that it sounded truthful.

“You never said what you wanted,” Jack Marler grunted through the crack in the door.

“I’m not here for you,” Caleb told him. “I want your two guests. Just let me in and—”

From inside the house, Caleb heard another grunting noise. It sounded as though Marler had gotten hit. Now he tumbled forward, falling against the door.

“Back on out of here, Sheriff,” came another voice from inside, a voice that was unfamiliar to Caleb. “You don’t leave right now, we’ll shoot this old man in the back of his head.”

Caleb was caught slightly off guard by the threat. He figured it might have been a bluff, but it just as well might not have been. He considered finding out, telling Graves and Weible that he didn’t’ care what they did to Ol’ Man Marler, but he quickly decided against that approach. Caleb had no affection for Jack Marler, but the mean old man was part of the community the lawmen brothers were sworn to protect. Long ago, shortly after stepping into the sheriff’s job, Caleb had accepted that sometimes he had to protect folks he didn’t particularly care for.

“All right,” Caleb said after a brief pause. “I’ll leave. But I want you boys to hand out half the merchandise you stole from the Bakers.”

“What?” came the startled reply from inside house. “Hand over half…? Sheriff… why would we do that? We’ve got all of it and we’re fixin’ to ride away from Black Rock for good.”

“I’ve got a posse surrounding this house,” Caleb said, again striking an authoritative note. “You won’t make it out of this yard before you have more holes in you than ol’ Jack’s bloomers. You give back half of what you took and the Bakers can carry on with their lives. You’ll leave ’em with enough they can rebuild. But you take it all, and they’re done. They’re ruined. I can’t let you do that to those good people.”

There was some discussion between the two thieves; Caleb could hear them through the open crack in the door. He could also see Jack Marler, at least enough of him to know that he hadn’t vacated his position on the other side of the door.

Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder, off toward the road. He couldn’t see Sonny, but he knew he was out there somewhere. Sonny was right: Caleb was a better shot with the Winchester. But Sonny knew how to use the thing, as well. He might have even been the second-best marksman in the vicinity, which was saying a lot. Caleb trusted that his brother had his back. Ever since Sonny had taken on the deputy role, being sheriff had gotten easier and a whole lot more interesting.

Inside the house, a man—one of the jewelry thieves—cleared his throat. “Suppose we take you up on your offer, Sheriff,” he said. “How can we trust that you’ll send your posse on its way?”

“Don’t think you have much choice,” Caleb replied. “All three of you die in a hail of lead in, oh, about five minutes, or…”

Suddenly, the door flew open again, and Jack Marler was frowning out at him. “I don’t want to get shot up, Sheriff. You can have these two. They’ve already done drunk too much of my whiskey, anyway.”

Caleb, holding up a hand, motioned for the old man to come forward, which he did right away. Once Ol’ Man Marler was out on the porch, Caleb told him, “Go on marching toward the road. Keep going till I come get you.”

After the home’s owner was off the porch and traipsing through the yard, Caleb pointed the barrel of the shotgun into the house. “You two have wasted enough time… my deal is off the table now.”

“No, Sheriff,” said one of the thieves, still addressing Caleb from a hidden position inside the house. “We was just about to hand over half the loot. You didn’t give us enough time to parse it out.”

Caleb opened his mouth to respond. Before he could get out any words, there was flash of movement in front of him as one of the thieves emerged from around a corner, his pistol pointed directly ahead.

Caleb leveled the scattergun, which was more or less aimed at the man’s guts. He almost dreaded discharging the weapon; from this range, the shotgun blast would practically tear the fellow in two. But just as his finger brushed up against the trigger, another shot sounded from somewhere behind Caleb.

The thief inside the house bucked back several inches and, losing his grip on his pistol, dropped it to the floor. He’d been struck in the shoulder, it soon became evident, not by the scattergun but by a bullet fired from a rifle.

Quickly glancing over his shoulder, Caleb spotted Sonny standing off in the woods, the Winchester still aimed toward the house’s interior. Caleb nodded, then faced forward again in time to see the thief reach toward the pistol he’d dropped.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Caleb warned. The thief who’d been struck in the shoulder was the hefty one—Dan Weible, according to Charlie Drayden. As Caleb recalled, the other one, Graves, was the real threat.

“Where’s your partner?” Caleb asked. “I know he’s in this house somewhere.”

“You really have a posse surrounding this house?” asked an unseen voice. Clearly, it was the voice of Eldon Graves, who was still hidden from Caleb’s view.

Caleb answered, somewhat loudly, “I assume you’re aware of what just happened to your partner here. Same thing’s going to happen to you if you don’t show your face, Eldon.”

“You know our names?”

“Know just about everything about you,” Caleb replied.

“Can we still have the deal you offered us before?” asked Weible, almost teary-eyed. “We give you half back and walk with the rest?”

Caleb shook his head. “I told you… that train has already left the station. Now, you boys ready to give yourselves up, or should I signal the posse members to begin filling this whole house with lead? One of the members even brought along some dynamite.”

Just then, another man—one fitting the description of Eldon Graves—stepped out into the open. He tossed his sidearm onto the floor and raised his hands overhead.

“No dynamite, Sheriff,” he said. “No more lead. We’ll give back the jewelry.”

“Good,” Caleb said. He motioned for Sonny and, when his younger brother reached the porch, both of them entered the house.

Eldon Graves and Dan Weible both seemed confused for a moment. After the two thieves exchanged glances, one of them said, “Where’s the posse, Sheriff? Don’t tell me you two are it?”

Caleb grinned. “I didn’t say how big the posse was, now did I?”

Graves grimaced. Weible cursed under his breath.

As Sonny covered them with the Winchester, Caleb clasped cuffs around their wrists. After he’d done that, Caleb checked his watch again. “Still have forty minutes to get these two to the jailhouse and get home. Think I can just make it.”

“Why’re you so eager to get home?” Sonny asked him.

Caleb looked at him. “I’m surprised you don’t know, little brother. Come around later on and you’ll find out.”

***

By the time Sonny arrived, the party had been going for half an hour.

“Oh… I feel so foolish,” he said, stepping forward into the little house Caleb shared with his wife and their two-year-old daughter, Mary. “I forgot it was today.”

On the table, there were lunch fixings, along with a cake that had yet to be cut. Their other brother, Marvin, was seated at the table alongside a young woman from church he’d been courting lately.

“It’s all right,” said Ida, coming to the door to greet her brother-in-law. “You’ve been very busy at work lately. Picking up the slack for my husband.”

Caleb chuckled as he patted Sonny on the shoulder. “Come on and have something to eat. We were waiting till you got here before we cut the cake.”

Sonny crossed the room and kissed little Mary on the head. Smiling, she peered up at him through eyes that reminded him of his their mother’s.

“Happy birthday, sweet one,” he said, tousling her blonde hair.

“That’s right.” Caleb smiled broadly. “On this day two years ago, our little angel came into the world.”

“And,” Sonny declared, “I was there when it happened.”

“We were all there when it happened,” Marvin interjected.

“You were there,” Sonny countered, “but I was the one who delivered her.”

Marvin made a face at his younger brother, and then they all laughed. It was a story they would all be telling for the rest of their lives, how Sonny had delivered little Mary Rothwell into the world while Caleb was off fetching the doctor.

“I wish I could have seen your face while you were doing it,” Ida said.

“Oh,” Marvin said, “you should’ve seen his face! He looked all pale and whatnot. Like he was about to pass out any second!”

They laughed some more, then Caleb, patting Sonny’s shoulder again, said, “But he didn’t. He came through for us. Just like he always does.”

Sonny had taken a seat at the table, and now he smiled up at Caleb, who was standing just behind him. “Just like I always will, brother,” he said. “Just like you always have for me.”

There was a brief moment of silence, during which time a light breeze came humming through the window, sounding like an angel’s whisper.

It was little Mary Rothwell who was next to speak. Looking around the table at the faces of everyone gathered there, she said, “I lucky girl.” She smiled and giggled. “Lucky, lucky girl…”

THE END

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