your father’s habits and knew what he was doing the day of the shooting.” He paused. His hard eyes boring into Irma with fire borrowed from Hades. “It is also known about town that you were disappointed in love and were very upset about the interference in your life by a particular man.” A sour look of contempt crept into the sheriff’s face.
Miller’s head jerked up from his apparent grief at this revelation and he stared hard down the line at Irma. Her head slowly sank down and a tear pushed itself up and out of her eye to run freely down the plains of her face. She shook her head and said nothing.
Joseph seemed stung by the revelation and removed his hand from her shoulder and quickly stepped behind Mrs. Buchannan, placing both of his hands on her shoulders, staring in disbelief at Irma.
I can’t seem to find anyone who would gain much from this whole ordeal. Despite the supposition, there is little hard evidence that I can find. And, that is the shotgun. Not many around here have them because of their lack of rouge. I understand a body could get bruised by one, if not held properly. But, I’m not about to have everyone in the room strip down in front of the doctor just to see if they are discolored.” The sheriff played with his ear. “However, I do know an old Indian man who can look into a person’s soul and see if they are a killer.” He leaned back in the chair, his eyes resting on the daughter. “Irma are you willing to face the old man?”
Irma, her head still down, nodded her head in assent.
Miller jumped quickly up from his chair, his eyes wide. “Sheriff, surely you don’t believe in any mumbo jumbo about Indians, spirits and such nonsense. Why, its not scientific and would not stand up in any court, at least not a proper court. That’s just a bunch of hoodoo.”
“I disagree Mr. Miller. I’ve seen the workings of the Indian mind all my life. They have always known how to survive by avoiding danger, since long before the white man came.” The sheriff smiled and winked reassuringly at Miller. “Don’t worry, it will all work out just right,” he said. “Just take your seat and learn something new. You might even enjoy it.”
With that the sheriff went over and pushed open the steel barred door. After he had spoken some words of Apache, he stepped back and with a sweeping gesture, motioned into the room.
Into the room stepped an old Apache man whose hair was almost pure white. He held a twisted piece of ironwood in his left hand. With his eyes closed, he chanted as he swung his right hand from side to side and up and down out in front of him like he was searching for something. At first he moved aimlessly toward them, then as he came close, he abruptly halted his wandering and made a beeline for Irma. His hand reaching out like he was going to grab her face, she pulled back in horror. Then, just before he touched her, his hand came to a stop, as did the chanting. The hand bent back at the wrist and the thumb and fingers splayed. Abruptly, he swung around and pointed an accusing finger at Miller, speaking harsh words in Apache.
“Old man says you are the killer, Mr. Miller.”
Miller leapt to his feet, pulling a Pepper Box pistol. “This is insane. You people are so demented by the heat, and the hobgoblin stories of the Indians you can’t even think straight.” Miller sneered with contempt. “You said yourself, I don’t stand to gain anything and now, you’ve got some damn fool drunken Indian to point a finger at me.”
“I don’t think any judge in the area will discount the veracity of the old man, Mr. Miller. Especially now that you’ve pulled that dangerous old gun on us.”
“Dangerous! I’ll tell you what’s dangerous. You, this town rubbing shoulders with a bunch of dark-skinned slant-eyed mongrels, allowing them to walk among you, breath your air, pull your children into their world of unholy perversion.” Venom poured out of his eyes toward young Joseph, who had stepped in front of Mrs. Buchannan and pulled Irma behind him. The other boys had stepped up, forming a protective shield with their bodies.
“I don’t know why, Mr. Miller, but I now suspect your hatred of people who appear to be different from you drove you to shoot Buchannan.” The sheriff’s whole demeanor was deadly and cold.
“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen here,” snarled Miller. “I’m gong to find a Federal Marshal and tell him what has happened here, then we are going to come back and destroy you all just like I did Buchannan. I promise that dark, slant-eyed Irma will wish she had married me. By the time she dies, she will have laid with every man in the west.” Miller was so confident in his position he didn’t realize he had blurted out his crime. He glared around the room, letting his full hatred pour from his soul, transforming his visage to reveal indescribable evil. Covering them with the short barreled pistol, he started side stepping toward the door.
Suddenly, there was a slight movement from the old Indian and as if by magic a small stick appeared in Miller’s bicep, sticking out both sides. Miller screeched in pain as his hand and the pistol began to convulse and fall toward the floor. With a twist, his finger pulled the trigger and the pistol went off as the powder burned around the cylinder the other rounds went off in succession like a Roman candle on the fourth of July.
The door crashed open and the Deputy Sheriff came through with a pistol aimed at Miller’s head. His right foot kicked out, striking Miller just behind his knee, causing it to buckle and sending the shocked man crashing to the floor.
An old white-haired mountain man stepped around the deputy and drove his knee into Miller’s back between the shoulder blades. Causing him to exhale forcefully and pinning him to the floor. “You best just lay there and pretend you’re asleep stranger, or I jest might let that old Indian build a fire in your lap,” cackled the mountain man.
After Miller had been searched and then hustled off to one of the cells in back, two men stepped through the office door. One was definitely Chinese, the other wore a flat wide-brimmed hat, a bright red shirt, the left arm was held in a sling.
“It appears to me sheriff, I can quit playing dead and take my family home.” Lupan Buchannan wore a wide smile, despite his wounds.
The sheriff smiled back. “Yeah, take them home Lupan and let them do the work for a couple of days.
Lupan Buchannan Page 2