This Gun for Hire Read Online Free PDF Page B

take a step forward but stopped when Joe Pepper made a move for his gun. Quill fell back into place and showed his hands, palms out.
    “That’s right,” Joe said. “You be real easy about coming at me. There’s facts to be established, starting with who you are.”
    “Careful, Joe,” she said. “When I asked him that, he answered all queer-like. Something about the nature of his existence. I wanted to shoot him right there, but I squelched the impulse. I only mention it so you won’t hesitate when you are struck by the same urge.” She paused, glanced at Quill, then offered Joe her most sincere assurance. “And you will be.”
    Quill let her smug smile pass. “Quill McKenna.” He lowered his hands when the sheriff nodded. “Just passing through.”
    “Huh. Maybe you do not comprehend the concept. Passing through suggests that you keep on moving.”
    “I thought exactly the same thing,” she said, pointing to herself, then to Joe, and then back to her. “Like minds, Joe. You and me. Did you ever think it could happen?”
    “Not in this lifetime,” said Joe. “Start explaining. And keep it—” He broke off, turning toward the open door in response to whispering and shuffling in the hallway. He stepped out of the room and looked pointedly at the three whores jockeying for a position where they could hear everything. Even as he stood there blocking their view, they tried craning their necks and standing on tiptoes to see over hisshoulders. “Has someone gone to Sweeney’s like I said when I came in? Yes? No?” When they all nodded, he said, “Good. Wait downstairs. Mrs. Fry will need tending when she’s brought back. If Doc Maine does not accompany her, fetch him. Otherwise, don’t go anywhere, and consider the house closed for the night. Do you understand?” There was grumbling but no mutiny. He watched them until they started down the stairs, and then he backed into the room and closed the door.
    Joe was still shaking his head when he turned. His lips curved downward at the corners. He pressed a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, rubbed it while he closed his eyes. After a moment, he said, “Sweeney stopped me. He found Mrs. Fry out back of his saloon and took her inside. He had already fetched Doc Maine for her, and she was being tended when Sweeney pulled me in. She had trouble talking, what with her jaw being broken and her mouth all swolled up, but between her and Sweeney, I could understand enough to learn it was Chick Tatters and Amos Bennett who laid hands on her.”
    He pointed to the man lying facedown between Quill and Katie. There was blood on the floor, a small pool near the man’s right thigh, and another at his left shoulder. Two wounds, neither of them fatal, although given the man’s repetitive and annoying moaning, Joe found himself wishing one of the shots had finished him off.
    “Amos?” he asked. “Did you shoot him, Katherine?”
    Before she could answer, Quill said, “I knew you were not a Katie. Katherine. That suits.”
    Joe chuckled. “Like a hair shirt suits. I only call her Katherine or Miss Nash when I want to raise her hackles. Fair is fair since I am sincerely peeved. She prefers Calico.” He grinned toothily at her. “Isn’t that so . . . Katherine?”
    Quill turned sharply toward her. “Calico Nash? You are Calico Nash?”
    She gave Joe Pepper a withering look. “See? This is your fault. He said it did not matter if I was a whore, but this seems to matter.”
    The sheriff shrugged. “He would have come to it sooner or later.”
    “Calico Nash,” Quill repeated under his breath. “I always imagined you would be—”
    She grimaced. “A man?”
    “No. Taller. Amazon warrior tall.”
    Calico stared narrow-eyed at Quill while she held out a hand to the sheriff. “Give me your gun. Mine’s spent and the urge is back.”
    Now Joe Pepper laughed outright, and he admitted to himself that it felt good. Still, to be safe, he kept his gun