I looked into the doctor’s face, made an awkward smile. It wasn’t my intention to be disrespectful. Dr. Heath seemed like a nice old gentleman. But I had to ask.

“You didn’t really conduct a thorough autopsy, did you? You figured it was a bear that killed him, as opposed to, for the sake of argument, a couple of dogs, so you didn’t look for any other possibilities.”

His face was getting flushed. “I totally resent the implications of that remark.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m asking you these questions with the utmost respect. But there’s another wrinkle to this I want to get your thoughts on, and I admit, it may be more in Chief Thorne’s area than yours.”

“And what’s that?” Dr. Heath said, his hand on the car door, eager to leave.

“Where’s the rifle?”

Dr. Heath’s brow furrowed. “What rifle?”

“If Morton Dewart ran into a bear while he was out hunting for one, where’s his rifle? I searched the woods this morning, went all around the area where the body had been found, and there’s no rifle, no shotgun, whatever you want to call it, anyplace.”

He opened his car door, tossed his case over to the passenger seat, and said to me, “I have no idea where it is, and it isn’t any of my concern. I’ve done my job and I’ve done it to the best of my ability, and you’ve got a lot of nerve questioning me this way.”

“Please, I mean no disrespect. It’s just, if it wasn’t a bear, and if it was, say, a dog, or more than one-”

“Your father’s a good man,” Dr. Heath said, “and he’d be ashamed of how you’ve just spoken to me. How dare you.”

And he got in his car and drove off, kicking up gravel as he drove up the hill.

As I listened to his car hit the paved highway with a squeal of the tires, I thought about the implications of the questions I’d been asking, what it was they might add up to. I was starting to wonder whether I wouldn’t feel more at ease with the notion of a murderous bear in the woods.

“SO WHAT WERE YOU AND THE DOC talking about?” Dad asked when I returned to the cabin. He was still on the couch.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Look, if this is about Lana, I don’t need any lectures from my son about my sex life.”

I closed my eyes, but then, when the images started appearing, I reopened them. “God, no, I do not want to talk to you about your sex life.”

“Because it’s my business,” Dad said.

“I don’t want to talk about your sex life, okay? I can’t imagine anything I want to talk about less.”

“But in case you’re wondering, it’s pretty good,” Dad said. He made a fist and shoved it forward slowly. “I still got it. Although this ankle’s gonna slow me down a little bit for a while.”

“That’s great, Dad. I’m thrilled. You can do ads for the little blue pill.”

Instant umbrage. “Who said I need that? Did Dr. Heath tell you I need that, because he’s got no business spreading that kind of thing around. There’s such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality, you know.”

“Dad! I don’t give a shit about your sex life, okay? There are more important matters to discuss than that.”

Dad sat quietly, waiting.

“I’m not totally convinced that you’ve got a bear problem,” I said.

“Aww, jeez…”

“Listen to me. I couldn’t sleep all night, thinking about what Betty said. She’s seen a lot, you know, in her line of work. She doesn’t think it was a bear at all-”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a wolf or a coyote or something like that?”

“Have you seen a lot of wolves and coyotes? And when’s the last time you heard of them bringing down a man and killing him? But if it was dogs, like Betty seemed to think, well, you don’t have to look far to find a couple of those. You weren’t there yesterday, you didn’t see how those little beasts came after me, they were-”

“Look,” Dad protested, “Betty doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She means well, but really, I’ve known her a few years now, and she’s a worrier, that’s all. That was a bear that did that, and we’ve got our bear spray, so if he comes around again, we’ll be okay. And Lana was telling me that Orville, her nephew, is talking to the wildlife people, maybe getting some people to hunt down this bear before it hurts anyone else.”

“There’s another thing, Dad. I walked around out there this morning, where they found the body. The Wickenses, they say he’d gone out hunting for a bear, but if that’s true, then where’s the rifle? I don’t think Orville found one, and I kind of doubt the bear took it with him.”

“Aw, you’re full of it. Did you come up here to help me or make my life difficult?”

“You know what I think? I think you’d rather have a killer bear out there than a couple of killer dogs, because if it’s a bear, it’s out of your hands. But if it’s those dogs, acting with their owner’s blessing, living in a house that belongs to you, right up there on your property, it’s a problem you have to deal with.”

Dad said nothing. He bit his lip, looked away from me and out the window, toward the lake. I took a seat in a recliner across from the couch, leaned back, made no attempt to interrupt the silence. We sat there, the two of us, for about a minute, until Dad finally spoke.

“I got some coffee going over there. You mind getting me a cup? Help yourself if you want some.”

I got up. “Black, right?” Dad nodded. I poured us two cups of coffee, brought them back over, and plopped back into the recliner. I took a sip. “Good coffee,” I said.

Dad drank some of his. “Catch any fish with Bob this morning?”

“No. But Audrey hit my line.”

“Jesus, seriously? Bob’s been after Audrey for years.”

“Didn’t get her, though. We each caught a pickerel, otherwise nothing. Nice of him to take me out, though.”

“Yeah,” said Dad. “He’s a good guy, Bob is.”

Then we were quiet again for a while. Dad took another sip, looked out over the lake again, and said, “I don’t know what to do.”

I nodded. “I can understand that. It’s a tricky situation.”

“I want them out,” Dad said. “I can’t sleep.”

I didn’t say anything.

“There’s always gunfire up there,” he said. “Shooting all the time, like, target practice or something. I can handle a bit of that, you know? You have to expect it, up here in the mountains. But it goes on and on some days. One time, I thought I heard a machine gun. Who needs a fucking machine gun? And they wear all this camouflage garb? What do they think they are? Who do they think’s coming to get them? What are they taking a stand against?”

“Have you done anything about this so far?”

Dad sighed. “A few weeks ago, after an afternoon of nonstop shooting, I called Orville.”

“Oh.”

“Look, it’s kind of complicated. He’s Lana’s nephew, and, well, there’s more to it than I can explain. He tries to do his job, but he’s a bit lacking in the intimidation department.”

“What happened when you called him?”

Another sigh. “He went up there. He thought it would be better, I didn’t go with him, maybe the Wickenses would hold it against me if they knew I’d placed the call. Orville said he could say that there’d been some general calls about gunfire, without mentioning my name, and he was just checking into it. I kind of walked up through the woods, watched what happened. They let him inside the gate, and those boys of Charlene’s, Timmy’s wife, Darryl and Darryl I call them, although not to their faces, their real names are Wendell and Dougie, they took Orville’s hat, started tossing it back and forth, Orville running back and forth between them.”

“Monkey in the middle,” I said.

Dad nodded. “It was pitiful to watch. The boys were giggling and laughing, and finally their old man, Timmy, he says, okay now, boys, let’s stop this. And he hands Orville his hat back, but not his dignity. He scurried out of there with his tail between his legs.”