I was running to the corner when I heard the .45 fire again. Another shot quickly followed it, followed by the shot from the smaller caliber again.
It only took me a moment to gather in the sight before me. I saw Charlie, over in the park, behind a tree. But what really drew my attention was McCall across the street from the diner. He fired at Charlie then started walking toward the diner. That made me hurry, which I didn’t want to do for being in that manner could cause my aim to be thrown off. He had crossed and stepped onto the boardwalk. I slowed to a steady walk.
Standing in front of the diner door, he glanced in my direction, then kicked in the door. When he did that I fired. My bullet hit him in the side turning him. He pulled himself straight, pointed his gun through the doorway. I shot again, and at the same time came a shot from inside. My bullet knocked him back and down, the smaller caliber bullet then hitting him in the face.
By the time I reached him, the light in his eyes was fading. There was movement to my left; I turned quickly finding Doc running to the downed man.
“Hey! You in the diner,” he yelled. “Hold your fire!”
As I approached the dying McCall with Doc leaning over him I asked, “Why? What were you thinkin’, John?”
I could hear gurgling sounds coming from his ruptured lungs where my second bullet hit. He turned his eyes up to meet mine. “Money,” he whispered, then I could see he was gone.
“Lord, help him,” I softly prayed, but I knew that if he had not made things right with God before he drew that last breath it was too late.
Turning toward the kicked in door, I hollered, “Molly, I’m comin’ in.”
Ten paces from the doorway, Molly was just getting up from behind an overturned table. She was holding her pistol in her hand and I could see the rush of the event was quickly wearing off. I reached out, taking the pistol from her and drew her to me.
She buried her head in my chest as I inquired, “You okay?” She didn’t say anything, only nodded in my embrace. I looked around noticing that there were dishes on a few tables. “Anyone hurt?”
Pulling her head back, she murmured, “I don’t think so. Marta was getting them out through the kitchen.”
I could hear men out front picking up the body to take it down to Parker’s. Doc came in and upon seeing me holding Molly asked, “She all right?” Then he quickly added, “Sit her down, so I can examine her.”
He went to a table to pull out a chair. Molly sat down, but would not release my arm. “Doc, I’m all right,” she stated.
“Want some coffee?” I inquired.
She nodded. “Let Marta get it,” she said, grasping my arm tighter.
Marta moved to the coffeepot while Doc took a seat next to Molly continuing to observe her features.
“Miles, I don’t understand. Why would a person like McCall stoop so low as to do something like this? He had a good reputation as a lawman, why would he change now?”
“Reckon I don’t have a good answer for you. A man without Christ is capable of anything. You know that as well as I do. Why a good man goes to the bad, well, he just follows his evil nature,” I responded.
Her hand was trembling as she picked the cup off the table. She started to take a sip, but her hand began to shake spilling coffee. The hot coffee fell on her hand, bringing her back to the present. Doc quickly reached out taking the cup from her.
She looked at Doc then up at me. Our eyes briefly met then she began to sob. “I killed a man.”
I knelt down in front of her, taking up both of her hands in mine. “Molly, look at me,” I calmly ordered. “You were protecting yourself, and besides, it was my bullet that killed him.”
“Still…” she said with remorse, then straightening up, sobering and stated, “I had to defend myself.”
“I fully understand,” I replied, then looked up to see…