“He’s not a criminal. He’s a law-abiding citizen.” She waved again as Fowler appeared on the trail before them. “Or maybe I should say law-enforcing citizen, which is even better.”
On that they disagreed. Either way, this meeting was fixing to happen, and he’d better get at the head of it before it took out sideways.
“Mr. Fowler,” he said as soon as his foe was within earshot, “are you heading to town?”
“I’m heading to see you. It’s about my friend Mr. Pritchard. I hear you got something that belongs to him.” Fowler moved like a draft horse, slowly and deliberately but with a lot of power.
“Nothing he’ll need again, now that I’m here.”
Fowler’s mouth twitched. “Is that right? You didn’t stop Bo Franklin from robbing, did ya? Caesar Parrow can thank Pritchard for the return of his pelts.”
“I brought Bo in, too, and took a report. When the judge gets to town—”
“The judge?” Fowler spat a stream into the brush at the side of the road. “The judge is as worthless as Sheriff Taney.”
“I’ve dealt with crooked judges before,” Joel said. “It won’t be the first time.”
“I said worthless, not crooked. You see, everything ain’t black and white here like you make it out to be. Pritchard ain’t no criminal, and he don’t deserve to be treated as such.”
“A criminal is one who breaks the law. Trespassing and making threats is breaking the law, and your friend Pritchard confessed to both. I don’t hold to locking up good people, which is why Pritchard is free now, but he needs to know—everyone needs to know—that if they have concerns, they come to me. They don’t take care of it themselves.”
Fowler’s eyes bored into him without mercy, but when Joel didn’t waver, he nodded. “I don’t think you’re a bad sort, son. I just think you’re in over your head. We’re not enemies. You keep after those bad folks, but the people wearing those masks, they are on your side—for now.”
Well, that was fair enough, Betsy thought with satisfaction. Clive was at least giving the new deputy a chance, and maybe she should, too. He’d likely want to know about the strange goings-on at the Sanders house as well as the threat to Doctor Hopkins.
“There’s something you need to know.” Betsy stepped forward. Deputy Puckett turned with interest evident on his handsome face. “I couldn’t figure who to tell, but since you’re both here, then maybe you can decide between you.” She shivered as she formed the words to describe the encounter—the yelling, the crashing furniture, Widow Sanders’s rumpled appearance. Both men listened intently, bristling as she finished. “And I thought that if it’s not Bullard who’s pulling capers on Doctor Hopkins, it could be Mr. Sanders.”
“Doctor Hopkins?” Deputy Puckett said. “What’s Doctor Hopkins got to do with it?”
Fowler fixed her with a steady gaze. “Is Bullard back?”
“Someone presented the doctor with a bundle of sticks on his porch, evening last,” she said. “He couldn’t credit what he’d made you mad over.”
“Made me mad? The Bald Knobbers didn’t leave those sticks. Who told you about this?” Fowler asked.
“I went looking for Mayor Walters in the storeroom, and Doctor Hopkins was there. I didn’t want to interrupt them, so I waited behind the crates.” She studied the dirt between them, because she was pretty sure the expressions of the two men before her weren’t pleasant.
“What do you know about this?” The deputy’s bandanna flapped in the wind.
“It wasn’t me,” Fowler said. “It wasn’t my men.”
“And you know the whereabouts of all your men, all the time?”
“My men are well trained. They don’t act without orders.” Fowler ground his heel on a dirt clod that exploded under the pressure. “And to prove I’m not behind it, I’ll set a guard around his place tonight.”
“No, you won’t,” Deputy Puckett said. “You are a prime suspect. You stay away from the doctor’s place. You’re more likely to cause trouble than anything.”
Betsy’s head was swinging from right to left so quickly she was likely stirring a breeze.
Fowler snorted. “Well, it’d pay you to keep an eye out for Miles Bullard. He might have it in his mind that Hopkins turned him in after the Watson shooting.”
That was possible, but there was another suspect Betsy didn’t want to escape notice. “Why would Bullard come back now? If there’s a troublemaker about, my money is on Mr. Sanders. Weren’t he and Doctor Hopkins in the war together? Maybe there’s some bad blood left over from then.”
Now she had Deputy Puckett’s attention. “Is there a connection between Doctor Hopkins and Sanders?”
“Everyone here is connected,” Betsy answered. “But I don’t know why Sanders would hold a grudge that long. Then again, I didn’t know he was alive until last week.”