“Yeah, real funny,” Owen said, trying to act perturbed, but the smile gave him away.
“You’re lucky I didn’t send you to Colorado Springs,” she quipped.
“I’ll count my blessings,” he huffed. “Conner gave it his best to finish the steak. I imagine he’ll put a dent in the grocery bill.”
“He’s worth every penny. Conner never complains about doing hard work or taking care of the animals,” she told the brothers. “He’s waited to meet you for a long time. I’m afraid your dad might’ve made you into something bigger than life. He has high expectations of you all.”
“Did Dad ever say why he kept tabs on us? He never contacted me,” Owen said. He tried to hide the hurt, but she knew everything about the man driving. “Did he contact you?” he asked Elias.
“I got a Christmas card and a birthday gift,” Elias admitted. “I imagine as a Navy SEAL, you moved around a lot. Maybe it got lost in the mail.”
Owen frowned. “Typical. Dad put me in charge but never gave anything back.”
Parking the truck in front of the coroner’s office, they got out, and Owen led the way inside. The receptionist, Daria, glanced up and smiled at them.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m Owen Wolfe. I need to speak with someone concerning my father, Jeremiah Wolfe.”
She picked up her phone and spoke softly.
“If you’ll have a seat, someone will be with you shortly.”
Leslie took a seat near the window, leaving the two chairs sitting next to each other to the brothers.
A few minutes later, a large, rounded man came out to greet them.
“I’m Dr. Harrison. If you’ll follow me to my office, we can speak there.”
The trio followed him down the hall and into his tiny office. Owen motioned for Leslie to have a seat while he stood behind her. Elias sat beside her, and his shoulders tensed.
“I’ve sent off some blood work and labs, but the primary cause of your father’s death stems from a heart attack,” Dr. Harrison informed them.
Leslie felt Owen’s grip on the back of her chair tighten.
“How did you determine the primary cause of death?” Owen asked.
“My examination showed a blocked artery and inflammation. The heart showed evidence of damaged tissue. On appearance, your father appeared cyanotic, and a small amount of fluid appeared in his lungs,” he said matter-of-factly, disliking Owen’s questioning.
“When will his body be released to us for his burial?” Owen asked gruffly.
“The tests will return by the end of the week,” Dr. Harrison replied. “I’m not expecting the results tochange my initial diagnosis. I’ll be able to release him by the beginning of next week.”
“Will the office call us?” Elias asked.
“Yes. I don’t foresee it taking any longer. We’re a small town, and it’s not often we have murders around here,” Dr. Harrison chuckled. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” Owen replied as he opened the door, holding it open for his brother and Leslie.
When they returned to the truck, he started the engine and drove a few blocks before turning into the Sheriff’s office. He turned to face Leslie and his brother.
“You’re right. Dr. Harrison has decided Dad died from a heart attack. Let’s see what the sheriff has to say.”
Entering the office, Leslie pointed at Sheriff Dalton.
The man stood and approached them.
“It’s good to see you again, Leslie. I see you brought two of Jeremiah’s sons with you. I’m sorry about your father. I’ve known Jeremiah for several years. He seemed like a good man,” he said, shaking their hands and nodding toward Leslie.
