Page 117 of Charlotte's Reckoning
“You understand you’re under oath and perjury is a crime?” the judge asked him, glancing pointedly at Sneed who squirmed as much as he could in his seat.
“Got no reason to lie.”
“That’s refreshing,” the judge muttered.
Mr. Bennett approached. “State your name clearly.”
“Silas Boone.”
“Do you know the claimant?”
The witness looked perplexed and asked, “The what?”
“The man claiming ownership of the Red Eye Saloon,” the lawyer patiently explained.
Silasglanced at Quentin and nodded. “Me and my brother work for him. Or my brother did until last night.”
“What happened last night?” Bennett asked.
“The sheriff murdered him in cold blood!”
There was a collective gasp from the crowd before the courtroom erupted again. It took several minutes, with the judge pounding his gavel so hard Seth thought for sure it would break, until they settled again.
“I’ve got no time for nonsense. If the onlookers can’t be quiet, you can all get out.” Simpson’s voice rose steadily until he was close to shouting. “Is that clear?”
Not a peep came from the benches.
“Hmph,” the judge grunted. “Get on with it, Bennett.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Boone,” Charlotte’s attorney pressed, his voice sharp, “that at the time of the shooting, you and your brother were breaking into Miss Charlotte’s home?”
Silas glanced at Seth and mulishly clammed up.
“I can call the sheriff and Miss Charlotte to testify,” Mr. Bennett warned him.
“Fine, we were trying to break in.”
“To do what? Rob her? Scare her? Perhaps kill her so your boss would prevail in court today?” the lawyer accused.
“I object. He’s asking him to incriminate himself,” Sneed exclaimed. “You don’t have to do that, Silas. You have the right to remain silent!”
“Your Honor, Mr. Sneed is trying to coach my witness.”
“Not another word out of you,” the judge warned, pointing his gavel in Quentin’s direction. “You’ll have your turn after Bennett.”
“By then, it will be too late to save his lying ass,” someone called from the audience, which erupted in laughter.
“I will have order!” the judge roared, slamming his fist on the bench instead of his gavel. “Most of you have business before me today. Unless you’d like to be charged with contempt of court, pay a hefty fine, and wait until I’m back in town in a month, maybe two, I’d recommend you keep quiet.”
Once order reigned again, he banged the gavel and stated, “Mr. Bennett’s objection is sustained. Proceed, sir.”
“Mr. Boone, can you tell us how you and the alleged Mr. Sneed met?”
“It was a few weeks back, in Denver, through my brother Cleve. He worked for him on and off whenever he needed protection or someone to do his dirty work—” He stopped short, realizing what he said. “If he needed someone to do a job for him, I mean.”
“Why would he need protection?”
“He’s a gambler. The crooked ones often do.”
