Sidewinders by William W. Johnstone Page A

what you’re capable of?” Cooper glanced over at Idabelle, who was glaring at him, and added, “Pardon my language, ma’am.”
    Scratch said, “You know what Bo was like when you were all kids.”
    â€œPeople change,” Cooper said, unknowingly repeating what his father had said a few minutes earlier. “And that picture Barney Dunn drew was the spitting image of you, Bo. Tell me how he was able to do that if he didn’t see you like he said he did.”
    Bo couldn’t answer that. The same mystifying question had occurred to him. As far as he knew, he had never met Barney Dunn. There was no way the bartender could have drawn a picture of him without seeing him.
    But he hadn’t been there in that alley behind the Southern Belle, and he sure hadn’t killed any saloon girls. None of it made sense.
    â€œI don’t have any explanation,” Bo said. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
    â€œAnd he’s your brother,” Scratch added, “so you damned well ought to.”
    â€œStay out of this, Scratch,” Riley said. “It’s none of your business.”
    â€œIt sure is. Bo’s my friend, and I’m his, what do you call it, alibi. He’s been with me the whole time, a long way from Bear Creek, so I know he didn’t kill those gals.”
    â€œThen why don’t the two of you go back to the settlement and explain all that to Marshal Haltom?” Cooper suggested. “Maybe he’d believe you.”
    Scratch shook his head and said, “Nobody in Bear Creek seemed to be interested in believin’ anythin’ except the worst.”
    â€œYou can’t blame them,” Riley said. “All the evidence says Bo’s guilty.”
    â€œWe’re just goin’ ’round and ’round in circles here,” John growled. “Bo’s stayin’ right here for now. I’ll go into town tomorrow and have a talk with the marshal. Like I said before, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
    Riley and Cooper didn’t look happy about that decision, but evidently they knew better than to continue arguing with their father. Being told he was wrong always made John Creel dig in his heels and get even more stubborn. A mule could be downright open-minded in comparison to his pa, thought Bo.
    His brothers turned and left the house without saying anything else.
    â€œThis hasn’t been much of a homecomin’ for you, has it?” John asked.
    â€œMaybe not,” Bo said, “but I’m glad to be here anyway. I’m glad I found out what people have been saying about me. I don’t like the idea that folks believe I’m a murderer. I’d rather clear my name once and for all so I can ride free wherever I want to without that hanging over my head.”
    Scratch added, “Yeah, the way things are goin’, there’ll be wanted posters out on Bo before much longer, and then bounty hunters might come after him. If we hadn’t ridden down here, we wouldn’t have had a clue why he was bein’ chased.”
    â€œThat’s a good point,” John agreed. “We got to get things straightened out before anybody prints up some of those ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ posters.”
    Idabelle got to her feet.
    â€œI’m going to get started on supper,” she said. “Are you staying, Scratch?”
    â€œYes’m,” he replied. “Figured I’d ride across Bear Creek and see my brother and sister tomorrow.”
    â€œDo you still have as big an appetite as you used to?”
    Scratch grinned and said, “Gettin’ older ain’t done anything to change that yet.”
    â€œThen I’ll be sure to fix plenty of food,” Idabelle told him with a smile.
    When she had gone out to the kitchen, John went over to a big rolltop desk in the corner and opened it. He took out a corked jug and said, “We’ll just