This Gun for Hire Read Online Free PDF

into her when we was leaving the saloon. Since we was coming here anyway on account of what we heard inside, Chick decided we should escort her around back and hear what she had to say for herself. Chick’s the one who knocked her around. I told him to pull his punches. You gotta know, I made him stop. We left her alive on account of that.”
    “All right,” she said, believing about half of what he told her. “Take off your gun belt—carefully—put it on the floor and kick it under the bed.”
    “Aw, Jeez. Don’t make me give it up, I—” He stopped. “I know. You’ll shoot if I don’t.”
    “No,” she said, surprising him. Her eyes darted to the wardrobe, where Quill McKenna was finally stepping out. “But I’m fairly certain he will.”
    Amos turned his neck so sharply that vertebrae cracked. Wide-eyed, he put a hand to his nape and massaged the crick while he stared at the gun aimed squarely at his chest. “That looks like Whit’s gun.”
    “It should,” said Quill. “It
is
his gun.” He shook off the ruffled petticoat clinging rather comically to his shoulders, caught it before it reached the floor, and tossed it toward the chair. It spread open, fluttering like angel wings, and mostly covered the scarlet corset when it dropped. He intercepted Katie’s amused glance and gave her a much less amused one in exchange.
    “I have you to thank for smelling like attar of roses,” he told her. “Droopy Ribbon must wash everything she owns in the stuff.”
    “You could have hidden under the bed.”
    “You could have shown more caution opening the door. You did when I was doing the knocking.”
    “I had reason to be suspicious then.”
    “I wasn’t carrying.”
    “I didn’t need your help. Still don’t.”
    “And I didn’t want to give it just now. Still don’t.”
    “So why . . .”
    “Leg cramp.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes.” Quill sneezed. “That, and I don’t like the smell of roses.”
    Amos listened to this exchange, eyes darting back and forth, fascinated in spite of himself. He carefully released the gun strap, and his hand curled around the butt of the Remington. He drew the gun out slowly.
    The barrel just cleared his tooled leather holster when they both shothim.

Chapter Two
    Joe Pepper arrived at Mrs. Fry’s establishment soon after he learned shots were fired. He was out of breath when he reached the house, and taking the stairs two at a time further pained him. He had passed his fifty-second year a few months back and soon after he heard creaking in his left knee and spotted gray threads in his dark hair to match the ones sprouting in his mustache. His wife had commented on his thickening waistline and started denying him dessert, and although he complained, he saw the sense in it when the first thing he had to do upon confronting the scene in the bedroom was remove a handkerchief from his vest and mop his sweat-beaded brow.
    Crumpling the damp handkerchief in his fist, he asked, “What in the name of all that’s holy happened here?” He made a second survey of the scene. When he was done, he had the cause of it all full in his sights and his stare did not waver. “Miss Nash,” he said, pleasant but with a slight edge. “I thought we agreed that when you came to Falls Hollow, you would drop by my office. Nothing more than a courtesy call, just to keep me informed.”
    “Hello, Joe,” she said. “Do you really want to fuss abouta courtesy call, or can we manage the business at hand first and share tidbits later?”
    Sighing heavily, he stuffed the handkerchief back into his vest without folding it. It made a small bulge under his tin star, which he did not bother to correct as he considered anything that raised his profile as sheriff to be a good thing, especially in present company. “Business, then. Mine first.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the only other man standing in the room but put his question to Miss Nash. “Who is he?”
    Quill started to