This Gun for Hire by Jo Goodman

Author:Jo Goodman [Goodman, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-04-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Ann Stonechurch accepted the weapon Quill placed like an offering in her open palms. She hefted it, accustoming herself to the weight. “What kind of gun is this?”

“A Colt .44 caliber centerfire. It’s a popular model. If Constable Hobbes carried a gun, that would be a good choice. That’s a four-inch barrel, and I would appreciate if you didn’t point it at me.”

“I am not even holding it correctly,” protested Ann.

“It’s not loaded either. And none of that matters. That’s a pearl grip so have a care.” Quill turned to Calico. The three of them were sitting at a table in the back parlor. The round walnut table, used for cards when Ramsey invited assemblymen, railroad officials, and sometimes the constable and the town council, bore evidence of cigars that had burned too long or the white rings of glasses left to sweat. No amount of polishing could erase the suggestion that deals had been made here and money had exchanged hands, sometimes with cards in play, sometimes without. “Try this,” he said, passing Calico her own gun. “See how it fits.”

Calico held it gingerly as if it might discharge in spite of Quill’s promise that it was not loaded. She had wondered if he would take the revolver from her room or had another of his own. Here was proof that he had been going through her things again. She studied her weapon and then looked at Ann’s. “It seems as if the barrel on this might be longer.”

“Good eye, Miss Nash. That’s a four-and-three-quarters-inch barrel. Also a Colt, but a .38-40 caliber. The grip is ivory.” He held out his hand. “Here. Let me show you how to hold it.” He palmed it, adjusted his grip, thumb on the hammer, finger on the trigger, and aimed at the ripening apple in a still life painting above the gun case. “It would be unusual for you to be aiming at a target that high, but you get the idea.”

Ann mimicked Quill’s grip and aim. “Maybe I am standing at the bottom of the staircase and the scoundrel is coming down the steps toward me. He is a dark-haired villain with a scar at one corner of his mouth. It makes him seem as if he is smiling when he is not. He uses it to draw me in, make himself seem less threatening, but I know the truth. I pull the trigger and—”

Calico said, “Ann, what are you reading that is not on the list we discussed? And please put that down.”

Ann slowly lowered the Colt. Her cheeks were flushed. “It is heavier than I thought it would be.”

“Ann?”

“Oh, very well. The latest Nat Church adventure arrived in the mail a few days ago.”

Quill said, “Nat Church and the Chinese Box? I would like to read that.”

Calico said primly, “Do not encourage her, Mr. McKenna.”

Quill gave every indication that he was abashed. “You should not be reading that tripe,” he said to Ann.

She nodded solemnly. “I’m sure you’re right.

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