Blood Bond 5 by William W. Johnstone Page B

man of his on the gallows.”
    Tom ignored that. “Van, Parley, take down the names of all these men who witnessed the shooting in the saloon. After that’s done, you boys ride back to the Flyin’ BS and stay the hell there.” He turned his back to them and faced the Carlin House. “You men clear out. Right now. Get the hell to the JC range and cool down.”
    â€œYou murderin’ scum!” a woman yelled from the Carlin side of town. “Goddamn trash, all of you!”
    Sam and Matt stared at the woman. Maybe twenty-one or so, and definitely cute. But with a voice that would put a steam whistle to shame.
    â€œPetunia Carlin,” a shopkeeper spoke from the door of his business. “She’s just getting wound up.”
    The young woman then started letting the invectives fly, shouting the curses across the street.
    â€œMy word!” Sam said.
    â€œI told you,” the shopkeeper said.
    â€œPetunia!” Tom Riley yelled. “Close that nasty mouth of yours and get on back into the dress shop. Move, girl!”
    Petunia stared at the marshal, stamped her little foot in anger, then gave Tom a very obscene gesture. She stomped back into the shop.
    A young man stepped away from the crowd and yelled, “You don’t talk to my sister like that, Riley!”
    â€œPete Carlin,” the shopkeeper said. “Petunia’s twin brother. Crazy mean.”
    â€œWhy are you talking to us?” Matt asked, twisting on the bench to look at the man. “No one else in town will.”
    â€œShut up, Pete!” Tom told the young man. “Before your butt overloads your mouth.”
    â€œAw, I figure you boys is all right,” the shopkeeper said. “You just rode into a bad situation and don’t have the good sense to ride out.” He turned and walked back into the shop.
    â€œThere is some truth in his words,” Sam said.
    â€œYou don’t tell me what to do either, Tom,” Pete yelled. “My pa will skin you and nail your hide to the barn door.”
    Petunia stuck her bonneted head out of the dress shop. “Pete! Shut your damn mouth and get off the boardwalk. You know what Pa said. Move.”
    Pete muttered something and stepped back into the Carlin House.
    The body of the dead A.T. puncher was toted off, and the BS rider was dragged off to jail. Matt and Sam had not left the bench during the entire episode. Tom walked slowly over to them.
    â€œThat gunny who squatted down and talked to you boys, who is he?”
    â€œBob Coody,” Matt told him. “From Texas way. He doesn’t like me very much.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHe claims I killed a friend of his down along the Pecos.”
    â€œDid you?”
    Matt shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”
    â€œThe lid is going to blow off this boilin’ pot now,” Tom said, removing his hat and wiping first his forehead and then the inside band with a handkerchief. “I expect to see the whole kit-and-caboodle of them come stormin’ in.”
    â€œPetunia appears to be a very nice young lady,” Sam said with a straight face.
    Tom looked at him, astonished. Then he smiled. “Yes. Oh, my, yes. Very feminine. And what you saw today was only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Not that I’ve ever seen an iceberg. You boys really are stayin’ out of this mess, aren’t you?”
    â€œWe would have backed you if anybody had made a move,” Sam told him.
    â€œI appreciate that. See you boys.”
    The brothers sat and watched the BS and most of the JC riders leave town, galloping their horses and yelling. Pete and Petunia and a few of their hands remained. Matt and Sam sat and watched Petunia and her brother meet on the boardwalk and start up toward the hotel. They were going to pass right by the brothers.
    â€œYou know any of the hands with them?” Sam asked.
    â€œNot a one. I think they’re regular punchers, but