This Gun for Hire by Jo Goodman Page A

for him to begin.
    Ramsey picked up his letter opener and turned it over in his hand as he spoke. “I received the first threat on my life some twelve months back. It came at a time when there was no obvious reason for it. No accidents at the mines, no grumbling about wages or hours. I dismissed it.”
    Calico thought it was interesting that there was no preamble to this information. Ramsey Stonechurch plunged in, expecting that she would know who he was and his role in the town. She did, but it rubbed her wrong that he was so confident of it.
    “There was a second threat perhaps a month later, suggesting that I should leave town and turn over the operations to the miners. That was not going to happen, and when I gave no indication that it would, there was an accident with my rig that could have been fatal if I had not been able to leap free of it. It went over the hillside, injuring the horse so that she had to be put down. It was shortly after that that I hired Mr. McKenna. He says he knows you.”
    “We are acquainted,” she said. “He should not presume to say he knows me.”
    Ramsey tapped the letter opener against the edge of the desk. His mien was thoughtful. “Yes. I take your point.” The tapping stopped and he laid the opener aside. “Mr. McKenna and I were discussing the merits of my daughter having her own protection versus her leaving Stonechurch altogether when Ann came to me with a proposal. She suggested completing a curriculum of liberal arts studies right here at home. She does not want to leave me, she says. Concern for my health is the reason she gives. I think there is a young man somewhere pulling on her like a magnet, but whether or not that’s true, she is adamant in her refusal to leave.
    “Mr. McKenna had proposed your name before Ann arrived with her scheme, but I was not yet set on the matter. Once he heard Ann’s intentions, he made a persuasive argument for you using the cover of educator to keep her safe. Naturally I prefer to have Ann out of harm’s way, but I fail to see how that can be accomplished at present. What I think might turn the trick is if you could discover the identity of the young man. If he were, say, removed as an influence, Ann could then be persuaded to leave.”
    “Removed? Kill him, you mean?” Calico thought it was to his credit that Ramsey Stonechurch was startled by the question. At least he appeared to be, she amended as cynicism asserted itself.
    “Hardly.” He frowned deeply. “Would you do that?”
    “Hardly.”
    “I confess that is a relief.”
    “Unless the young man proves to be a mortal threat to your daughter, of course, then I will shoot him, probably to wound, not kill, depending on the circumstances . . . and my mood at the time.”
    Ramsey blew out a long breath, watching her closely, trying to gauge how serious she was about the last thing she said. “I think I would like a drink. Sherry for you?”
    “Whatever you are drinking will be fine.”
    “I am drinking whiskey.”
    “Then whiskey is fine.”
    He got up and went to the drinks cabinet, where hepoured liquor into two cut-glass tumblers. He filled them evenly and still allowed her to choose. He did not return to his chair but hitched a hip on the edge of his desk instead. “I was thinking more in terms of a bribe. Money. A job away from here. Whatever would motivate him to leave.”
    “Have you and Mr. McKenna identified any candidates for your daughter’s affection?”
    “None. Mr. McKenna is not convinced that a young man such as I described exists. And to your next question, he has eliminated several men I proposed who might make threats against me but has not identified new ones. You would be charged with the same task. This person could be a danger to Ann.”
    “All right.” She sipped her whiskey, smiled. “This is good. Very good.”
    “It is a pleasure to share a drink with a woman who appreciates fine spirits.”
    She raised her glass slightly. “That